Beauty in Cinders

CHAPTER 22

Beatrice stared at the barrel of Gregory's gun. Too many thoughts were firing through her mind at a thousand miles while her heart felt like it was burning and about to burst through her chest. Gregory looked insane as he got closer with the gun pointed directly at her chest.

"This is crazy," Beatrice said quietly to him with tears in her eyes.

"You think? Because I feel fine," Gregory replied, slurring his words. His eyes fluttered as he seemed to start to struggle to maintain his footing. The moment Beatrice saw his gun sway a little to the side she realized it was now or never. She ducked and grabbed the vase that was on the coffee table. Gregory looked with surprise as Beatrice shot back up and smashed the vase against his face. Gregory cried in pain and toppled to floor, unconscious.

Beatrice stared down at him in horror. She cried and couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Bastard," Beatrice hissed with a mixture of hatred, fear, and relief. She kicked his body hard. "Bastard!"

Beatrice's eyes fell on Gregory's gun that had fallen from his hand. She bent down and grabbed it and put it in her purse. Before leaving she pressed her heel hard against his head. "I hope you rot in all this filth just the way you deserve – alone," she spat. Beatrice ran her hand through her strawberry blond hair and left Gregory on the floor.

Hotel

Heather shook her head, "This can't be true. It can't be. My father never told me anything about my mother dying from an accident."

"I see," Victor frowned, "I'm sorry that you're finding about it this way."

"If it's true then why didn't my father tell me? Why hasn't my step-mother?"

Derek and Debra watched them quietly. Derek reached over and placed his hand on Heather's shoulder, but her eyes were glued on Victor.

"Beatrice," Victor said quietly, a darkness clouding his eyes. "This was all too convenient for her, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Heather snapped, "Enough with the cryptic talk. Tell me whatever you need to say."

"Heather, I don't know why your father chose to not tell you the real cause of your mother's death, all I know – all I feel – is that her death wasn't an accident. A part of me tells me Beatrice had something to do with your mother's death. That's why I came back. After so many years I can't live with the unknown anymore. I need to get the answer out of your step-mother."

Heather jolted from her chair angrily.

"How dare you?" she said. "You come here telling all these lies and now to make it worse you're accusing my step-mother of having killed my mother? She was her best friend! They were like sisters!"

"That's what Beatrice wanted everyone to think," Victor replied without missing a beat. Heather turned to Derek.

"Can we go?" she asked him.

"Of course," Derek said and stood from his chair.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Casteel," Heather said to her before Derek kissed his mother goodbye and left with Heather.

"It's ok, honey," Debra said and watched her son take Heather away. She turned to Victor. "Do you honestly think that could be true?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My gut tells me so," Victor answered glumly. "I wish it was all in my head, but I know how much Beatrice envied Alison. I know how much she wanted Heath for herself."

"If that woman did cause the death of Heather's mother," Debra said worriedly, "That means she's a killer. She could be dangerous. If she hated that poor woman can you imagine what she must feel towards Heather or even worse, what she could possibly do later down the road?"