The Dark Side of Eleanor Warwick

The cold mist running along the grassy fields of the park is excellent cover for an attack.

Henry can’t bring himself to care. A single lamp creates a circle of light in the darkness around his park bench. He flexes his hand. The stab wound is healed but it still hurt like hell.

Penelope stirring draws his eyes. She lays on the bench, her head resting on his lap. The sleep spell will wear off any moment. She is not going to be in a good mood.

Suddenly she gasps, jerking upright. She looks around in panic and confusion. She focuses on Henry. As the situation returns to her, she scowls angrily. “You son of a bitch!”

Henry shakes his head as she stands and furiously paces in front of the bench. “You’re welcome.”

“You put me to sleep! Why? We agreed on what had to happen!”

With a sigh, Henry drums his fingers on his thigh. “Agreed is a bit of a stretch.”

“Bullshit! You were on board! Coward!”

“It was a mistake. I was trying to make up for not going with Gordon.”

“And this is how you do that?”

Looking up at her, Henry wears an expression of profound regret. “I learned the wrong lesson. I was right not to join Gordon. Where I was wrong was that I didn’t stop him from throwing his life away. So I stopped you from doing the same. I just wish I had done it sooner.”

Penelope crosses her arms. Her furious glare softens. “Well, now what?”

Henry groans as he stands. “We need to get back to the House. It’s safe there.”

“If it still exists.”

It is Henry’s turn to glare. “She’s not dead.”

“Well, then where the hell is she,” Penelope snaps.

Henry begins to respond but throws up his hands. He looks around the dark park. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Roughly 45 minutes later, the cab Henry called comes to a stop down the block from their destination. Police vehicles and ambulances obstruct their path. They get out and walk the rest of the way. Penelope ignores the looks her outfit draws.

The point of interest is just a few feet down from the entrance to the House. Penelope grabs Henry’s arm tightly as they see a body covered in a sheet loaded into one of the ambulances. Henry suddenly finds it difficult to breathe.

They push through the crowd and under the police tape. Officers move to stop them, but they’re too late. Henry grabs the sheet and yanks it down. He recoils at the sight of Adrian Blackwell’s distorted face.

As the police pull him away, he raises his hands, offering no resistance. He finds Penelope hunched over, her hand on the fence in front of the House. She sobs quietly.

“Are you crying?”

“Yes,” she says, straightening and turning to him. Tears run down her cheeks. “I’m crying, okay? I’m relieved that it’s not Eleanor. I’m deliriously happy that it’s him. It’s just a lot.”

“I understand. Let’s get inside.” Henry places a hand on her shoulder and guides her toward the door.

“What on earth did that to him?”

“I have no idea.”

Henry hesitates at the door. He slowly reaches out and takes the knobs. Taking a deep breath, he turns. He lets out a sigh of relief as the door cracks open.

“It’s okay. She’s alive.”

He allows himself a small smile. He pushes the door open and his face falls. He slowly approaches the body on the floor as Penelope slips in behind him.

He lowers to a knee and gingerly lifts the coat. His chest tightens. He lowers the coat back down. “God dammit,” he mutters.

“Henry…”

“God dammit!” he screams, clenching his fist. His outburst of anger fades quickly, giving way to hopeless despair. His body goes slack. “He had nothing to do with this. He wasn’t a threat.” Henry reaches out and places a hand on Marvin’s covered shoulder. “I’m sorry, son.” He sits quietly for a moment. “I killed him.”

“Henry, stop it.”

“I killed Angela.”

“No, you didn’t. Chandler killed Angie. I don’t know who killed Marvin, but it’s the Blackwells who are responsible.”

“He never should have been involved in this.”

“He had plenty of time to walk away, Henry. He didn’t want to.”

“I’m a menace.”

“Henry!”

“This is my fault.”

“Henry!”

He looks up at her. Penelope points into the adjacent room. Henry looks over and sees a drying pool of blood. He rises and steps closer. “My God.”

He looks down at the floor and follows the trail of blood into the study. A chill runs up his spine as he beholds the open passageway into the lair of the Dark Force.

“Oh, shit,” Penelope breathes. “They have the Dark Force.”

Henry looks back at Marvin’s body. Taking a deep breath he straightens his tie. He brushes the sleeves of his blazer and fixes his collar. “I have to stop this.”

“What happened to not throwing our lives away? Now they have the Dark Force. We’d be better off finding Eleanor and getting out of town.”

“They don’t have it. She does.”

“How do you know?”

Henry adjusts his cufflinks. “Because I know Warwicks. It’s always the same.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have to go.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. Please take care of Marvin. I have to do this alone.”

“What makes you think you can stop them?”

Henry stops at the door. “I’m not going to stop them.” He looks back. “I’m going to stop her.”