Chapter Thirteen
MARTHA KNOCKED ON Lucia’s door. She held her coat over her arm, her gray fedora in her hand.
Lucia answered the door, an e-reader cradled in her palm. She raked her gaze over Martha and raised her eyebrow. “Going out?”
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Martha met her gaze. “If you’re not busy?”
Lucia pursed her lips. “Well, I was about to find out who the killer is in this book, but I can wait.” She stepped back into the room. “Do you mind if I bring my camera?”
“Not at all.” Martha waited while Lucia gathered her gear and coat. It will look like we went for a walk to take photos. Clever. And taking care of my reputation. Of me.
The house was quiet. Most of the staff were occupied with their daily duties. They had almost made it out of the house when they encountered Elaine. She shifted her gaze between them, quirked her mouth, and turned away from them. Martha expected her to comment, but her silence spoke volumes. If she cared about Elaine’s behavior, Lucia’s face betrayed nothing. They exited the side door, skirted the stable, and walked along the trail edging the field. Martha kept their conversation to pleasantries until they were far from the house and anyone who might overhear. Martha stopped on a small rise and turned to look back in the direction they had come. Lucia held the camera up to her face and pointed the lens at Rowan House.
“I’ve always liked this view of the house.” Martha studied the way Lucia steadied the camera before she pressed the shutter and took a few pictures.
She pulled the camera away from her face and looked at the screen on the back. “I imagine you did not whimsically decide to take me for a walk so I could photograph Rowan House from its best side.” She kept her head down, studying the screen on the back of her camera. “And your eyes tell me you’re worried.” She pointed the camera at Martha and pressed the shutter button. “Are you going to tell me what the problem is? Or do I need to persuade you?” Lucia lowered the camera and gave Martha a half smile.
Martha met her gaze. “I received an email with some photographs and a demand for cash so they would not be sent to the police.”
“Blackmail? Do people even care enough about their reputations to worry about blackmail anymore?” She held up her camera to her face and pressed the shutter again. “How positively old-school.”
“The guests of Rowan House expect the utmost discretion. Even if the person who was exposed in the photographs didn’t care about their reputation, it would ruin the business. And expose all of us to criminal charges.” Martha chewed her lower lip.
“Would it be a bad thing?” Lucia lowered her camera and looked into Martha’s eyes.
Martha opened her mouth to speak and closed it again as words failed her. She jammed her hands in her coat pocket and looked up at the sky, trying to get her anger under control before she responded to Lucia.
“What? Yes of course. I don’t fancy spending time in jail or having any of my workers end up in jail either. I don’t think the service we provide our clients is unnecessary, or criminal, but we do operate in an area gray enough to make us liable for prosecution.”
Lucia tilted her head to the side. “I wasn’t referring to the criminal charges. I was referring to Rowan House. Would it be so bad for you to not have to stress over running the house? To give up worrying 24/7 about everyone and everything? Would it be so bad to be free of your responsibilities?”
Martha focused her gaze on Lucia’s face. “Rowan House is my life. My sister and I built this business, and I’m not ready to retire. I’m sorry I involved you in my problems. Forget we had this conversation. I’m sure you can find your way back to the house.” She turned away from Lucia and stormed down the path toward the wood. The wind was chill, and she flipped the collar of her coat up around her neck. Why did I think she’d care? Or help? Close Rowan House. Like hell. Fuck me. I’ll call Madame later. She’ll know what to do. Myfanwy. No. Don’t want to worry her. Or give her a reason to attack Robin. She kept her head down and focused on the path in front of her. The trees were bare now, and their twisted shapes cast complicated shadows ahead of her. Alone. I am alone. And I need to get used to it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re strong. You’ve done more with less. Always. Hold fast. That’s what I have to do. No matter who is for or against me. Could she be behind this? Maybe. Maybe she wants to open her own house after the Onyx? Maybe it’s her. We let her keep her photography equipment. Fuck me.
She followed the trail to the fire ring. The long walk gave her time to sort her thoughts. Rachel had moved the firewood under the turnout shed roof in preparation for winter. The fire ring was raked and clean. That’s it. We need to clear the house. Examine every room and area. Martha took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I will do what I need to do. I will fight this. Find this bastard. Hold fast. No matter what.” She spoke out loud, drawing strength from the sound of her voice echoing in the empty wood.
MARTHA SAT AT her desk and went over her plans again. She wanted to have everything organized before she talked to Elaine. When she had cooled off, she realized suspecting Lucia was rude and ridiculous. She had no need for money and seemed to be impatient for the Onyx to be closed. Martha had not received a response from her would-be blackmailer. The reply from Jaya was encouraging. She believed the email originated from somewhere in the house and had even offered to come and take care of the problem herself. Seventy-two hours since the email. Maybe Robin’s working with someone on the outside. But how? How did she take the photos? Maybe Lucia’s working with Robin. They seemed to have something the first night, when Lucia gave the shibari demonstration. Martha’s head ached almost as much as her heart. She’d avoided all contact with Lucia since the day she tried to talk with her about the blackmail situation. She still had not talked to Madame. Especially now she wondered about Lucia working with Robin. No need to worry Madame. But why? It was the why of it making her crazy.
She tossed her pen down when a sharp rap sounded at her office door. She opened her top drawer and slipped her file and notes inside. “Enter.”
Lucia opened the door. She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. “Am I disturbing you?”
“Not at the moment.” Martha chewed her lip. “Did you need something?”
“I wanted to talk to you about—” she frowned at Martha “—the matter you spoke to me about the other day.”
Martha sat up straighter in her chair. “It’s no concern of yours.”
Lucia looked down at the floor before she brought her gaze back to Martha’s face. “If it affects you, it concerns me.”
Martha snorted. “Since when? You’ve made yourself clear. Several times. You’re only here out of respect for Madame. I appreciate the personal time you’ve graciously shared with me. But I’m clear on where you stand. Even if I could give you what you require of me, you don’t want it.” Want me. Want what I want to give you.
A flash of anger crossed Lucia’s face. “You are not Rowan House. It is a business.”
“It is my business. And I know the difference. Thank you.” Martha stood up and walked to where Lucia stood. She was a bit taller in her boots, and she leaned close to Lucia, stopping a breath away. “No matter how I feel about you, I will not let anyone destroy what I’ve built.” She looked into Lucia’s eyes. “I will do whatever I need to do to eliminate any threat to my business.” Martha touched her cheek and softened her gaze. “I’m sorry. I let myself believe you were a final gift from Madame to me. I was foolish. Forgive me.” She walked away from Lucia and sat at her desk. “I’ve made arrangements for you to return to Lake Como. I’m sure Madame will be glad to see you. Here is your itinerary.” She pushed a sheet of paper across the desk toward Lucia.
Lucia picked up the paper and tore it in half. She let the pieces fall on the desk. “I’m not one of your employees. You have no say in where I go, or what I do.”
“You’re right. Absolutely right. You are a guest. And your visit
is over. Go wherever you like after you leave here. It is no longer my concern.”
Lucia’s eyes were dark as she crossed the floor and rounded Martha’s desk. “Is this your idea to test me?”
“This is my idea to put my house in order. I don’t know who took those photos. I am clearing the house of nonessential personnel until we get this sorted.” Martha turned in her chair to face her.
“I don’t work for you.” Lucia’s voice was harsh, her eyes full of fire.
“If I have to carry you, you are leaving this house.” Martha stood up. Lucia shoved her back with both hands on her chest, catching her off-balance, and Martha sat down hard. Lucia grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her to a fierce kiss. Martha moved her hands to Lucia’s waist and gripped her hips, her anger melting into passion.
Lucia broke their kiss and leaned back. “You’re wrong about Madame.” She cupped Martha’s face with both hands and met her gaze. “You’re her gift to me.” Martha gazed into Lucia’s eyes. Truth. She cares for me.
Lucia kissed her again, softer this time. She leaned her forehead against Martha’s brow. “I protect what is mine. And I’m not letting you go no matter how hard you push me away.” She kissed her neck and straddled her in the chair. Martha relaxed under her touch and the comfort of her kisses. Lucia brought her mouth close to Martha’s ear. “Trust me. Trust what you feel for me. Trust in us. I’m not leaving you.”
“I KNOW THIS is a bit different than how we usually operate, but we are closing the house four weeks early this year. There is some extensive repair work we need to have done to the house and the dorms. Since this is normally a slow time for the house, we’re having the work done now so we can start fresh in the spring.”
A low murmur swelled from the group of women gathered around Martha in the ballroom. She lifted her chin and spoke loudly over the whispers of the women. “For those of you worried about your leave, we are covering your pay so instead of the usual twelve weeks of paid leave, everyone will get sixteen weeks in all. Most of the house and the dorms will be closed during the repairs and renovations, so you will need to find accommodations away from the house.” The assembled group grew quiet. Martha looked around the room, studying the body language and faces of her employees. “Any questions?”
“Will we need to clean out our rooms, Ma’am?”
“No need. Make sure you take any valuables with you. We will have outside people working, and they won’t be supervised. I am happy to store any items in the house safe if there is something you want to leave behind. Are there any other questions? Anything anyone is worried about?”
“What if we don’t have anywhere to go?” Robin’s voice sounded from the back, and the group parted as she stepped forward.
Roxy snorted. “I bet Rachel can find a place. Right between her legs.” The rest of the women chuckled. Robin rolled her eyes at Roxy before she brought her gaze back to Martha’s face.
Martha ignored Roxy. She tilted her head and met Robin’s gaze. “Please see me in my office later and we will discuss it. Anyone else have an issue with sixteen weeks paid vacation?”
“Hell no, Ma’am.” Raucous laughter filled the room, lifting Martha’s spirits.
“If there are no more questions, see Millie to make arrangements for your transportation. As always please leave us a copy of your itinerary and call the main number if you have any difficulties.”
The women filed out quickly in groups of two and three. Robin hung back. Myfanwy lifted her hand and waved at Martha before she shifted her gaze to Robin then to the door leading to the viewing gallery. Martha inclined her head in confirmation, and Myfanwy left her alone with Robin.
Robin walked over to Martha. “Could we talk now? I don’t have anywhere to go.” She frowned at Martha. “I don’t want to stay in a hotel by myself for four months.” She crossed her arms and wrapped them around herself.
Martha studied her face, looking for signs of subterfuge. Lucia’s words about Robin liking the house because it was safe came back to her. Gone was the brassy woman she had bedded. In front of her stood a frightened, unsure woman.
“A few others are staying. Mistress Lucia will be staying. Myfanwy is staying to help Mistress Elaine in the kitchen. Rachel will be here to care for the horses.” A flash of fear traveled over Robin’s eyes before she smoothed her features, and Martha noted it. “I’m sure Mistress Elaine would be happy for more help in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“We’ll have to move you to the main house.”
Robin’s eyes went wide. “Why can’t I stay in my room?” Her knuckles were white where she gripped her arms.
Martha kept her tone neutral. “We need to have the dorms vacant while the work is being done.”
“Very good, Ma’am.” Robin pressed her lips together in a thin line. “Can I ask a favor, Ma’am? If it’s not too much. Do you have an interior room? One without windows?”
Martha raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure we can find something to meet your needs.”
Robin’s smile did not reach her eyes. “Thank you, Ma’am. Excuse me, Ma’am.
“Certainly.” She watched as Robin left the room, her steps quick, her hands clenched by her side.
Angry? Scared? Acting? Martha waited until she was sure Robin had disappeared from the hallway.
“She’s gone. What do you think?”
Myfanwy looked down from the viewing gallery above the ballroom. “She’s frightened and angry, Mistress. A puzzle. She’s odd about her room. She asked for a room without windows when she first arrived. She’s not let anyone in to clean, or for other activities since she’s been here. Says she likes to do her own cleaning. She was furious when she left, even if she tried to pull it off that she wasn’t.”
“My thoughts too.”
“Do you think it’s her?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Come down, let’s go talk to Elaine.”
Chapter Fourteen
ELAINE TURNED THE oven on before she paced the small kitchen. “I don’t see why I can’t make her talk.”
Martha raised her eyebrow. “Because information gained through torture and intimidation might not be true. And it’s illegal.”
Elaine tilted her head and smirked at Martha. “Hello. We run a brothel. Now you’re worried about legality?”
Martha snorted. “We run an exclusive all-inclusive private resort.”
Myfanwy placed a cup of tea in front of Martha and set a tin of biscuits on the table. “Tea, Cook?”
Elaine sat down. “Yes. Please.” She pulled the tin near to her and opened it. The papers crackled as she fished around in the box and selected a biscuit. “We should have let her go when I wanted to.” She bit into her biscuit.
“We don’t know if it is her.” Martha took a sip of her tea. “Or if she’s acting alone.”
“She’s in all the photos.” Color rose in Elaine’s cheeks. “All these years and we’ve never had anything like this happen.”
“Technology has changed since we opened. Ten years ago, all we had to do was to not allow phones. Now we’re not safe even with the rules we have.”
Elaine finished her biscuit and started on another one.
Myfanwy bought Elaine her tea and sat down. She sniffed the air a few times. “Is there something in the oven, Cook?”
Elaine shook her head. “No. I’m preheating it to roast tonight’s veg.”
Myfanwy frowned. “It smells like something’s burning.”
Elaine tossed the last bit of her biscuit on to the table. She glared at Myfanwy. “I don’t smell anything.”
Martha raised her eyebrow and inclined her head toward Myfanwy.
“I’ll check the temperature.” Myfanwy pushed back her chair.
Elaine stood up. “I’ll check it if it will make you shut up about it.”
She stalked over to the oven and snatched the door open. A wall of flame shot out. Martha shoved away from the table. E
laine’s jacket caught fire. Martha tackled her and rolled Elaine around on the floor. She beat at the flames with her hands until they were out. Myfanwy stepped over Martha’s splayed legs. She gripped a small fire extinguisher. After yanking the pin and tossing it aside, she aimed the stream of foam at the base of the fire. The flames died back, and she advanced, spraying the blaze, sweeping the bottle from side to side.
“The gas. Martha. Turn off the gas.” Elaine’s hand trembled as she pointed at the valve on the wall opposite the stove. Martha pushed herself up off the floor and ran to it. She pushed the lever to shut it off. Myfanwy kicked the oven door closed with her foot.
Elaine sat up. Her eyes were glassy. The sleeve of her coat was charred. Martha dialed the number for the fire department and an ambulance.
Myfanwy knelt next to Elaine with her arm around her. Martha could hear the soft soothing tone of her voice. The flames were extinguished, but the oven was still smoking. “We need to get out of here.”
Elaine turned her head and looked up into Martha’s face. “I can walk.”
Myfanwy helped Elaine to her feet. “We’ll go out the side door. Let’s take her out front to meet the ambulance.” She nodded at Martha’s hands. “And get you checked out as well.”
“I’m fine.”
Myfanwy raised an eyebrow, and Martha fell in behind them. Not an accident. The smoke detectors didn’t sound an alarm. Elaine keeps her ovens pristine. No way it was a spontaneous grease fire.
“IF IT’S NOT the two of them, who is it? Open your eyes.” Elaine scowled at Martha. “If you and Myfanwy hadn’t been there, who knows what would have happened.” She looked down, avoiding Martha’s eyes. “I can’t smell anything anymore.” Her chin was on her chest. “The whole damn thing could have gone up, and I wouldn’t have known it.”
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