Chapter Twenty-Six

Red did not even bother to pull up to the front door. He pulled his cab around to the back entrance and everyone clamored inside through the kitchen. Wesley and Marguerite had regained consciousness and Clara informed them of everything that had happened. Marguerite seemed especially struck when Clara told her how Red carried her out of the tomb himself.

Red was clutching his neck where the blade had grazed. Just a moment later and he would have been dead. Marguerite pressed her handkerchief to the bleeding. "Just a scratch," she said with soft tenderness very unlike her.

"Ooch! Let me get you cups of tea!" said Mrs. Nan. "I declare, Clara. The hours you all find yourselves up to adventures..." Mrs. Nan stopped herself. "Is that Peter Nero?"

The man stood awkwardly in the kitchen wringing his hat. "I am afraid it is."

Mrs. Nan stared at him. It was the first time Clara had ever seen hatred in the woman's eyes. "You'll be needing to leave, I expect," said Mrs. Nan coldly.

Clara touched the woman's arm. "It is not as it seems."

"And how does it seem? It seems that fifteen years ago, his daughter killed us. It seems that six months ago, his actions killed your husband. And it seems that he is standing in my kitchen."

"I am sorry," said Peter. "I did not... I mean..."

"What he is trying to say was that he was as much a victim of these circumstances as we were."

Peter shuffled uncomfortably. "Mrs. O'Hare, your husband took the money upon my direction. I knew what the Quatre Portes was trying to do and I told him to purchase the emerald in case I failed. I am wholly responsible for his death. I have been the one sending you your pension every month. I felt so terrible about everything that happened. I just wanted it to end. For fifteen years, I traveled with my family trying to get the urn with the queen's heart back to Egypt, but everywhere we went people died, and I did not know why. This Quatre Portes made me believe that I could contain it. I am afraid I spent the past year and a half building that mausoleum that almost became our tomb. And then Trevor Beltza discovered me. Things went oh so terribly wrong."

No one had any words of comfort for him.

"I must go away," he said apologetically. "There are other artifacts, things I know that the Quatre Portes will hunt me down for. It is better if they believe I died tonight. "

"Please go with our blessing," said Clara.

Peter nodded and turned back. "Again, I am very, very sorry." And then he was gone.

Clara and Wesley walked into the parlor, leaving Marguerite to tend to Red, and to steal a moment alone.

Clara wrapped her arms around Wesley's waist and he pulled her in tight to him.

"It is all over," she said with a giant sigh.

"We must hope that is so."

"The rest of ordinary life will seem so... ordinary," Clara said. "What will you do?"

Wesley rested his cheek upon the top of her head. "Well, according to the police, I perished in that fire, so I suppose the first order of business is to inform them I am still alive and see, now that Trevor Beltza has disappeared without a trace, if the charges still stand."

"And once they have been dropped?"

Wesley sighed. "I suppose I shall have to start all over again on the vaudeville circuit. It shall be quite strange after all we have been through to go back to everyday life."

"Wesley?" asked Clara.

"Hmmm?" he asked.

Clara looked around the house, this dear house on the square which had become her home. "What if we were to go into business together?"

He pulled away from her slightly, both of his hands resting on her arms so that he could get a good look at her and gauge her seriousness. "What exactly is it that you are proposing?"

"Well," she said. "My income will be gone since I am sure Peter can no longer write those checks for my upkeep. Without a pension, I shall have to begin taking in some work. But it would be ever so much better to do something I am actually good at. And I am good at speaking with the dead."

"That you are," said Wesley with a tender smile.

"So what if we were to make a joint venture? Use your reputation and my skill and start up a little parlor here for those who are grieving?"

"What a fascinating prospect," laughed Wesley. "You realize, of course, it would be necessary for us to see each other every single day."

"I am counting on it," said Clara, holding him even tighter. "In fact, I would be quite heartbroken if a day should pass when I didn't see your face."

There was a moment of weighted silence between them and Clara could tell that Wesley was thinking hard about something.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "There is, of course, some matter of propriety about an unmarried man and a widow going into business together," Wesley pointed out.

"I don't give a fig about propriety," said Clara fiercely. "I will never be parted from you again."

"Perhaps..." he said, "we could ensure that you see my face both every day and every night..."

"What?" said Clara, stepping back from Wesley.

He knelt down on one knee and took her hand in his. "Clara O'Hare, there is no other woman in this world or the next I would rather spend eternity with. Now that I have found you, I cannot, I will not, lose you. Would you do me the honor—"

And before he could even finish the sentence, she had stopped his mouth, answering him with a deep, tearful kiss.

"Yes," she whispered.

"What are you two lovebirds murmuring about?" asked Marguerite, clunking in with Red in tow.

Clara wiped her eyes as Wesley stood with his arm wrapped around her waist. She looked up at him, overwhelmed with happiness and joy. "We were discussing potential business opportunities," said Clara, not quite ready to share their secret yet.

Marguerite laughed. "Funny that you should mention it. Red and I were discussing business opportunities, too."

"Really?" asked Clara, looking curiously at the two of them. Red blushed a bright scarlet fitting of his nickname.

"Fifteen years I have been tracking Peter Nero and didn't even know it," said Marguerite. "But Red here saved our hides more times than I can count and has proven himself braver in the field than any officer I know. Norman and I were partners for many years and worked to solve cases which did not fall within the bounds of normal crimes. I spoke with Red and agreed he would make an excellent member of my investigation team."

"Oh, Red!" said Clara as Wesley reached out to shake his hand. "I couldn't be happier for you!"

"I would always be available to you, Mrs. O'Hare,” Red said, “I would never forget who got me this opportunity. I wouldn't go abandoning an employer like that."

"You must live the biggest, most wonderful life you possibly can," said Clara. "For far too often it ends too soon. Live large and seize hold of your dreams and all of the opportunities which come along the way. We shall always be here if you need us."

"And we might just need you," said Marguerite. "Perhaps as consulting mediums?"

Clara leaned gratefully against Wesley, feeling as if, for the first time in forever she needed nothing more. "Of course. I am always happy to help those who are troubled finally find rest."

THE END

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