by CeeCee James
“I’m so sorry. I’ll have all the staff search for it tomorrow. I’m sure it will turn up somewhere. Perhaps one of the guests grabbed it by mistake.”
Silence dropped as if they both knew how unlikely that would be, but neither wanted to voice it.
“Very well. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.” I watched Mrs. Fitzwater pat her pocket, most likely looking for her phone. She sighed with disgust and intertwined her fingers before her. “Please call for my car.”
“Certainly,” Miss Janice escorted us back to the great room.
The party fizzled out after that, with the guest’s departure similar to rats following after the Pied Piper. When the last person left and the door firmly closed, Miss Janice’s shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Then she rallied, as she became aware that she still had an audience in all of us.
“So, no one has seen the purse?” she asked, her gaze bobbing hopefully between us.
We all shook our heads.
“Very well. It has to be here somewhere. Thank you for all your hard work. Now everyone get some sleep, and tomorrow we will scour this place from top to bottom. I can’t have a missing purse on top of all the other gossip.” Her tired gaze flickered toward Mary. “If you would accompany me.”
The two headed to Miss Janice’s chambers. Once they were out of sight, we all broke off to our own rooms.
The moment I entered my room I kicked off the horrid shoes and collapsed on the bed. I didn’t know feet could actually have a heartbeat of their own. I rolled over and grabbed my sweater and slipped it on. Smiling, I gave it a deep sniff. I’d snuck it from Mom’s closet, and it still smelled of her.
My muscles relaxed. I found my sketch book and reclined against the pillow. The pencil tip rested only a moment against the paper before I was sketching out a few smooth lines. Soon I had round cheeks, twinkling eyes, and Cook grinned from the paper at me. I was starting on a steaming cup of tea in her hand when I heard a sound from across the room.
Scratching. All sorts of nasty rat images ran through my head. Half a second later, I realized the noise came from the bottom of the built-in cupboard.
I could just picture a rodent poking about, whiskers flicking. My toes curled.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
I shut my notebook and sat up. Obviously, I couldn’t stay here any longer. He’d probably bring his friends, and my entire room would become a rat’s amusement park with them scampering about. I had to leave right this minute.
Then I heard something else. A meow.
What in the world? Cautiously, I dipped my toes on the cold floor. “Kitty, kitty?”
It meowed again.
I pried open the cupboard. The orange cat sat inside. He blinked sleepy green eyes at me.
“What on earth are you doing in there?”
He arched his back to rub on the top of the cupboard as he sauntered out.
“Hi, there.” I smiled. “What was your name? Hank?” The cat sniffed my offered hand, his whiskers tickling my palm.
I bent to peek into the cupboard’s interior. This time I spotted a slim crack in the rear, blacker than black, along with a stray envelope. Did this cat travel through the walls to wherever he wanted? I left the cupboard cracked and climbed up on the bed.
Hank walked around my room, taking in the strange scents, his whiskers twitching. He finally jumped onto the bed next to me.
“Comfy?” I asked.
His ears flipped this way and that to listen for any sound. He acted as though the bed was one of the strangest places he’d ever been and proceeded to examine every inch.
“What? Haven’t you ever been on a bed before? You must have.” I stroked his head, concentrating on the space behind his ears. He tolerated it for a moment, before he began his investigation again. Carefully he sniffed the cuff of my sweater.
“Smells good, right? My Momma.” I guess I was lonelier than I realized, because the conversation was a relief. “You are a strange one. Don’t you ever purr?” My finger trailed along his spine. When it reached his tail, it was like touching a spring, and his back arched. “Oh. You like getting scratched here, huh?”
Before I turned out the light I downloaded Jane Eyre to my reader’s app on my phone. I didn’t forget the warning about the books. Such a strange place. Then, with the lights out and pillows fluffed, I read with Hank’s heavy sleeping body weighing down the blankets between my feet. For the first time in this house, I felt at peace.
Chapter Ten
I woke the next morning to find Hank had disappeared. I was disappointed, really, and I hurried over to the cupboard like I might still find him there. There was no marmalade cat, however the envelope caught my attention again. I pulled it out.
The envelope felt lumpy. I shook it and then ripped open the flap.
A musty odor wafted out as I peeked inside. At the bottom were a few silk sachets, the kind my grandma used to make with lavender to stash among her underthings. It sure didn’t smell like lavender though. More like something that had been wet too long and lost under the washing machine.
Wrinkling my nose, I tossed it back under the cupboard and left the door cracked, hoping Hank might return later. After yanking my uniform on, I hurried downstairs.
“Good morning, Laura Lee!” cried Cook as I entered the kitchen. “I’ve heard today’s a treasure hunt for the purse.”
She handed me a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage, and I was happy to receive it. I found some salsa in the fridge and dumped it on. After pouring coffee, I brought the whole mess to a vacant spot at the breakfast table.
With bright eyes and a big smile, Mary scraped the last bite from her nearly empty plate. “Hey, lady.”
“Hello.” I sat down, realizing my spot was directly in the stream of sunshine. I glanced out the window and saw little white feathers blowing everywhere. I blinked my eyes and stared again. Just dandelion fluff.
Lucy joined us then, as peppy as ever. “So, guess what! I heard from my cousin, Mario! You know, the cop? Well, something was found in the car, and it’s odd.”
“And what was that?” Mary asked as she brought her plate to the sink.
“A china coffee cup! They found it stashed in the glove box. Weird, right? And that’s not all.”
“Well goodness, Lucy, spill it already. Some of us have things to do today,” Marguerite grumped.
“Strangely, the car keys were missing, but his phone was left! And he received a text thirty minutes before he left, asking that they meet.”
“From who?” asked Jennifer.
She shrugged. “Mario said it was from a burner phone.”
“Missing keys, a missing purse.” Mary glared. “I personally think one of the other guests took it home.”
“Yeah! Like that shady Mr. Eland from up the road. I saw him that morning when Mark died.” Lucy blew across her coffee and took a cautious sip.
“You did? What was he doing?”
My ears perked, because I remembered Mrs. Fitzwater questioning him about it last night. He’d been very cagey in his response.
“Well, you know he’s never up early, night owl that he is. So I was surprised to see him. Nearly hit me as I entered the code for our gate. Our gate was stuck, had some branches jammed underneath.”
I frowned. Something about that didn’t sit right with me.
“Okay, everyone. Let’s do a purse search.” Marguerite clapped, her fleshy cheeks jiggling. “Time’s wasting. I want to be able to give Miss Janice a status update in thirty minutes.”
I was sent to scour the music room. I’d never seen anyone in here, so I highly doubted there would be a purse. Still, I checked under the piano and lifted all the heavy pillows on the settee. Not finding anything, I did the karate chop in the center the way that Miss Janice liked.
The drapes were drawn over the large windows. I wrinkled my nose at the rivers of dust lying in the folds of the fabric. They were due for a deep cleaning. Should I bring it up, and would that mean it woul
d then become my chore?
The heavy fabric looked like an insurmountable cliff as I eyed the top bar nearly fifteen feet above. A chore and a half, for sure.
Maybe I’d keep it quiet, then.
Hank meowed at my ankles, making me nearly leap out of my skin. He blinked jack-o-lantern eyes at me as though pleased at the joke.
“Hey, there, you little stinker. Where’d you come from?” I glanced at what I’d thought to be white wainscoting. One panel had opened a crack. “You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be in hiding, remember?”
He rubbed his cheek against my ankle, giving it a warm kiss, and then did it again. Of course, I couldn’t resist such cuteness and ducked down to pet him. It was so odd how he never purred.
After a few rubs, he moved toward the settee, his tail curling in a question mark. Then he turned to stare at me. His eyes glowed like two orbs and his gaze didn’t waver. The skin on my neck prickled. Honestly his stare was quite disconcerting after a minute or so.
“What is it? What do you need?”
With the cat disdain he had so perfected, he gave his ear a bath.
When I stepped away to continue my search, he stopped to stare at me again.
“What is it you need, buddy? I have to get back to work here.”
With a meow, he peeked under the settee.
My interest flamed. “Did you lose something? What’s up?” I scooted to my knees.
Under the ancient lounge lay a cloud of dust bunnies. Immediately, my nose tickled. This monstrous thing must not have moved since it had first been brought into the house.
I sneezed. “Whatever’s under there is there to stay. Sorry buddy.”
I sat up on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. The cat ignored me and fished his orange paw underneath. A fuzzy came out.
“The things I do around here.” Exasperated, I climbed back down. This time I studied the clean swath the cat had made.
Interesting. The light glittered against something under there. I hemmed and hawed and then finally committed to digging beneath the couch. As lightly as I could, my fingers traveled over the clots of dust like they were a bed of baby mice until I felt a smooth and slippery object. Aggravatingly, it moved away. I strained to reach, ignoring how my muscles in my shoulder screamed as they stretched.
Finally, I caught it. Closing my eyes, I looped my finger in it.
Hank stayed by my side with his attention locked on my movements with fascination.
Carefully, I dragged it out.
It was a set of car keys with a big silver charm. How on earth did they end up under here? Had someone kicked them? Why hadn’t anyone searched for them after they were lost?
The cat sniffed the keys, his whiskers twitching. He laid his ears back and moved away, obviously displeased with the scent.
Curious, I gave them a sniff myself. “What are you picking up, buddy? I can’t smell anything.”
Hank plodded over to the far wall with the gapped wainscoting. He shot me a beckoning stare and then groomed a frightful itch on his haunch.
Sighing, I rose to my feet. The keys were dirty in my hand, and I held them like a used tissue. I nudged the panel open with my foot, and Hank scurried inside to disappear into the wall behind. I pushed the board back in place and then set the keys on the cleaning tray with the rest of the supplies.
“Someone will be glad to see these possibly,” I murmured to myself.
I left the tray by the door and turned on the vacuum. Methodically, I began striping the carpet, strategically planning it so my last row would be by the door and leave no footprints. Out in the hallway, I wound up the cord.
“Finished in there?” Mary asked, walking rapidly up the hall.
“Yep.”
“Don’t suppose you saw the purse?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”
Mary’s face wrinkled in frustration. “Confound it. Miss Janice will never let us live this down. Well, anyway, get dressed and come help me set the table. We have to do it perfect. Miss Janice has a lunch guest.” She used her fingers to make air apostrophes.
“Really. Who is it?”
“A man.” Mary’s eyes brightened. “And heaven knows Miss Janice needs one! She was so grumpy over her eggs this morning I thought she’d throw them at me. But a good man can fix that.” She winked at me.
I dragged the vacuum cleaner while holding the cleaning tray. My hair flopped into my eyes, and I brushed it back impatiently. Perhaps this weekend I could drive into town for a trim. It was out of control.
As I set the cleaning tray on the shelf, the keys jingled. I tucked them into my apron pocket before hurrying to my room to change.
Hank slept on my pillow, waiting for me. The cupboard door from the built-in remained open.
“You really get around, don’t you?” I scratched his neck, my fingers delaying on the fancy gold collar he wore. I started to read the pendant when I realized I didn’t have time. I quickly changed, moving the keys in my new pocket, and then swooped my hair into a fresh chignon. Hank watched in interest. Grimacing at already running late, I left the room and jogged down the stairs.
Marguerite met me at the bottom. “We do not clatter about as if we are wild mustangs.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
Her nod was brisk, but her eyes twinkled. “Control and decorum at all times. Now continue to the butler’s pantry and gather the table settings.” Her nose lifted. “The special guest has arrived.”
Chapter Eleven
Before I left, I handed the keys over to Marguerite.
She took them with a gasp and fastened those big eyes on me, her cheeks quivering. “Where did you find these?”
“In the music room. Under the settee.”
“Well, my goodness, these belong to the Cadillac. The one that Mark was driving.”
I think my eyes matched hers in size at that information.
She hummed for a moment and then glanced at me as if surprised to see me still standing there. “Hop to the pantry, please. We have a busy day. ”
I set the table for Miss Janice’s “special guest,” in a room off to the side of the arboretum. It was a lovely place, and much more intimate. I was dying to catch a look at the guest. From everyone’s smiles and knowing winks, I knew there had to be a good story. But instead of spying (aka food service), Marguerite assigned me to linen duty.
I headed up the stairs, allowing my fingers to trail along the silky banister. Once again, I paused before the giant chess piece bust. A great horse’s head with flaring nostrils. How eccentric Mr. Thornberry must have been to have fallen in love with such a statue.
I continued on to the laundry room where the warmth reached for me like a grandma’s hug. I stood in the doorway for a moment to breathe in the fresh soapy scent. The room hummed from the working washing machines but the drier had finished. I opened the door and grabbed an armload of hot towels.
Mary appeared in the doorway. “You coming later?”
“Coming where?” My eyebrows raised.
“You know where,” Mary hissed, glancing at the doorway.
“Oh! It’s tonight? Yes! I’ll definitely be there!”
She touched a finger to her lips and then waggled them in a tootle-loo. I smiled, happy to finally be accepted.
That night, we crowded into Marguerite’s room like a bevy of high school girls having a birthday sleepover. Marguerite shut the door and then gave the signal to Cook to open the secret bookcase. We filed through the narrow opening into the room already laid out for welcome with candles and snacks.
“Girls, today is an emergency meeting, what with the missing purse. And we need to figure out what’s going on with Mark’s death. Lucy, do you have any updates?”
The young girl stood up, spine ramrod straight with importance. “The coroner is running a blood panel. Apparently he has signs of being poisoned. They believe it was an injection to the neck.”
The room broke out
in excited murmurs.
“Anyone else?” Marguerite asked.
I stood up, hesitantly. “I did find a set of keys. They were in the music room.”
“And they do indeed belong to the Cadillac,” Marguerite confirmed to the cascade of gasps.
“Did we see anyone go in that room?” Cook asked.
Marguerite’s lips puckered. “Now that you mention it. I did catch two people wandering about. Mr. Eland, and Mrs. Fitzwater.”
“Obviously she was searching for her purse,” Lucy said.
“The way they were drinking, I’m not surprised she misplaced it.” Marguerite sniffed.
Mary and I flashed guilty looks at one another.
“What is it?” asked Marguerite suspiciously.
“Well,” I started slowly. “I know she brought it inside because I accidentally kicked it under the table. Everything fell out.”
“Ohh!” The group of women seemed to lean toward me. They peppered questions. “What did you see?”
“What was in it?”
I answered as fast as I could. “Not much. There was a cell phone. The screen showed a text from someone named Babs.”
“No!” gasped Cook.
“You never told me that!” Mary accused.
“I didn’t know it mattered. I felt horrible for reading her text at all.”
“She didn’t know it was important,” defended Marguerite. And then to me, kindly. “Babs worked for Mr. Thornberry as his personal assistant. She disappeared two years ago. About a year before Mr. Thornberry died.”
“Where did she disappear to?” I asked.
“We don’t know. And we don’t know why she’d be contacting Mrs. Fitzwater now either.” Marguerite tipped the teapot and poured water in her cup. “This mystery is becoming more and more like the book we are reading after all.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Let’s not forget how that one ended.”
Chapter Twelve
After a night of tossing and turning, breakfast the next morning was a glum affair. Though, I don’t know that I could give a reason for it even if pressed. Perhaps it was the way the clouds had rolled in, filtering the interior colors of the house in shades of gray, or the way the shadows fought back against the many lamps. All I knew was that the air felt thick with tension.