Moriarty's Musician

Home is Where the Hell is, Part 4

Annabelle stared in shock at the message. She put her hand to her head as she reread Moriarty's words. How did the text go back to him? This can't be happening! She looked around the room and felt like she'd entered a gilded cage.

She angrily texted him back:

GO TO HELL!

Within seconds...

DARLIN, WE'RE ALREADY THERE.

Annabelle threw the phone across the room. She buried her face in her hands as she tried to think. Now, what was she going to do? How could she possibly get away from him?

As she ran her fingers through her hair, she discovered her long locks, usually neat and tied back, were now a mass of tangles. She tried to comb through her hair with her fingers and sighed in frustration. She decided to look for a comb while she waited for her suitcase to arrive.

Annabelle opened the door that led to the bathroom, and her eyes widened. From the white marble countertop with brass fixtures to the deep soaker tub with a chandelier that dangled overtop, it was the most luxurious bathroom she had ever seen. Even the drapes, matched a lovely, white-padded bench that sat near the window.

Tiredly, she walked over to a small glass stand that sat beside the bathtub. She touched a beautiful hairbrush with a pearl-encrusted handle. Beside the hairbrush were various small bottles. Annabelle lifted one of the bottles and bit her bottom lip as she saw it was a lilac-scented shampoo from France. Is there anything he doesn't know about me, Annabelle wondered uneasily.

She sighed as she put the bottle down and touched the white porcelain edge of the tub. A hot bath was a temptation she couldn't resist– no matter who the tub belonged to. She turned on the brass taps and poured the lilac soap into the tub.

While the bubbles grew, she sat down on the white bench and pulled the brush through her locks. After a few minutes, she completed her task. She stripped off her clothes and carefully stepped into the tub. The hot water was oh so delightful as she sank into the tub and immersed herself in the lilac-scented bubbles. She felt the tension in her body immediately float away.

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Annabelle woke with a start. The bathwater was chilled as she looked down at the water devoid of bubbles. She couldn't remember falling asleep. Disappointed, she stood up to reach for a towel and fell back in shock.

Annabelle couldn't breathe as she stared at a woman sitting on the window bench. Her beautiful face was ashen as dark brown eyes looked sadly back at her. The woman's long, brown hair was draped over one shoulder, the color, a sharp contrast to the white gown she wore.

Annabelle felt tears start to fill her eyes as terror gripped her chest. "Who are you?" she managed to whisper.

The woman looked sadly back at her but made no attempt to answer. Was it the chill from the water or the woman's presence that made Annabelle shiver uncontrollably, she wasn't sure. "Wh-what do you want?"

The woman tilted her head and continued to watch her. Annabelle realized she needed to get out of the ice-cold water as her teeth started to chatter. She reached for the towel, but as she glanced back at the bench, the woman was gone.

Annabelle quickly wrapped the towel around her body and got out of the tub. She looked around the room, then back at the bench. Still shivering, she wondered if she was going crazy. She thought about her mother and her rapid descent into insanity. The haunting vision seemed so real. Maybe she too was on a downward slide into madness. She wondered if she should ask Meg about the woman. No, she'd keep this to herself, she decided. She didn't want Meg to think she'd lost her mind.

Annabelle put her underthings back on, but when she lifted her jeans and sweater, she realized they were in desperate need of cleaning. She loathed having to put them back on when she was now clean herself. Opening the bathroom door, she peeked out into the empty room. Of course, her suitcase was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, she came into the room and scowled at the open closet, knowing she'd have to put on one of the dresses or wear the towel until her suitcase was delivered.

She walked over to the closet and touched each of the dresses, marveling at the material and unique designs. She pulled out the red dress. Moriarty had told her specifically to wear this one. Annabelle pursed her lips and defiantly hung it back up. She reached in and pulled out an elegant midnight blue dress with long sleeves and a deep scoop neck. It would have to do.

She brought the dress to the bed. Dropping the towel, she slipped the dress over her head, thankful there was no zipper. She walked to the mirror that hung inside the closet door. As she looked at her reflection, she couldn't believe the transformation as she turned this way and that. The dress clung perfectly over her curves then flared out a little to a skirt that skimmed her knees.

Annabelle pulled the scoop neck up to try and cover more of her chest, but she realized the design of the dress made that impossible. Just a little bit of the top of her cleavage peeked out. Damn. Just as she decided to try on a different dress, there was a knock on the door.

Her eyes flew to the clock and saw that it was 6:30 PM. Hesitantly, she opened the door and recognized the young man who was holding the wood earlier.

"I'm s-s-sorry to d-disturb you. I was t-told to bring you d-d-downstairs to the d-d-dining room f-for dinner," he stammered as his eyes fell unwittingly on her cleavage.

Annabelle shook her head. She didn't want to scare him, but she also didn't like his lingering look. "I'm quite able to find the dining room. Please go and tell your employer that I'll come down when I'm good and ready."

At Annabelle's words, the young man paled. "P-p-please you must c-c-come with me now. The m-m-master dines at 6:35. You can't be l-l-l..." He ran his fingers through his hair, miserable that he couldn't get his words out fast enough.

Compassion washed over Annabelle. She wondered if Moriarty would hurt the boy if he were unsuccessful in bringing her to dinner. She wouldn't put it past him, after seeing him nearly kill one of his own men. She sighed and went back into the room and took one more look at her reflection while the young man peeked in. Annabelle looked down at her feet and wondered how silly she would look wearing her Keds with the lovely dress.

"M-M-Miss Watson, there are sh-sh-shoes at the bottom of the c-closet."

Annabelle looked down, and sure enough, black heels sat under the dresses. She sighed again, remembering the night at the symphony and slipped her feet into the shoes. She wobbled in the heels and commented, "I'll never get used to these stupid things."

The young man tried to hold his smile. "I-I-I can o-o-offer you my a-arm for balance if you l-l-like?"

Annabelle looked at him and smiled. "I think I might take you up on that offer. By the way, what's your name?"

He smiled bashfully. "I-I-It's Jack."

Annabelle walked over to him and extended her hand. "It's wonderful to meet you, Jack."

He blushed and lightly shook her hand as he tried to meet her eyes. Annabelle looped her arm through his, and together they set out down the hall. As they walked down the stairs, Annabelle grabbed hold of the banister with her free hand.

At the bottom of the stairs, Soo-Ling watched the two walk by as she lingered in a doorway. Her eyes narrowed, staring at their newly transformed guest.

When they reached the door of the dining room, Jack checked his watch. He swallowed and opened the door. "Sir, M-M-Miss Watson."

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