Wiped Out

by Barbara Colley

  “Judith Monroe, you take that back. I am not a snoop.” When both Judith and Brian began laughing, Charlotte said, “That’s okay. Go ahead and laugh, make fun of me, but I love you anyway, even if you are a royal pain sometimes. Now—” Charlotte pushed herself up in the bed. “Hand me my clothes.”

  “Whoa, hold on there, Auntie. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going to check on my grandniece.”

  The door leading into the hallway swung open, and Hank and Carol walked in. “What’s going on?” Hank asked, when he saw Charlotte sitting on the side of the bed.

  “Your mother wants to get dressed and go to Ochsner to check on Danielle.”

  “Mother, you can’t—”

  “Oh yes I can,” Charlotte shot back. “One way or another I’m going. Maddie, Daniel, and Nadia need all the support they can get right now. So either help me or get out of my way.”

  For several seconds Hank stared at his mother; then, with a sigh, he nodded. “In that case, we’ll all go. Just let me make a couple of calls first.”

  “And not a word to Madeline, Daniel, or Nadia about any of this,” Charlotte warned them. “They’ve got enough on their minds without worrying about me too.”

  It was well after midnight by the time they got to Ochsner and located Madeline and Daniel in the waiting room.

  “How is she?” Charlotte asked Daniel.

  “So far, so good,” he replied.

  “And Nadia? How’s she holding up?”

  As if the very mention of Nadia’s name had summoned her, the door to the waiting room swung open. Standing in the doorway with one hand gripping the door frame and the other hand gripping the edge of the door was Nadia.

  “I’m okay, Charlotte, but I’ll be a lot better once my little girl makes it through this night.”

  Nadia’s face was as pale as the white walls of the waiting room, and Daniel immediately rushed over to her.

  “Aw, honey, what are you doing out of bed?” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist to lend support.

  “They said I could get up and walk around if I felt like it.”

  “Well at least sit down,” Daniel urged, motioning toward the sofa.

  “Okay, but just a minute till I catch my breath. Then, I want to see our little girl.”

  After Daniel helped Nadia over to the sofa, Judith approached him. “Hey, big brother.” She wrapped her arms around him, and for several moments, simply held him within her embrace. When she released him, she said, “I’m so sorry. I would have been here earlier, but it was impossible to get away.”

  As Charlotte watched the two of them together, her throat grew tight and she was reminded of when they were children. Madeline had been battling depression over her divorce from their father, and Charlotte had been forced to step in and take over the care of Daniel and Judith. Daniel, just a young boy, had been waging his own battle, trying to come to terms with the fact that his father wasn’t around any longer. He’d wanted to talk to his father, but his father wouldn’t return his phone calls. Then, too, Judith had wrapped her arms around her brother, and had, in her own childlike way, tried to comfort him.

  “Daddy’s just mean, Daniel,” Judith had told him, patting him on the back. “We don’t need him ’cause we’ve got Aunt Charley, and she’s better than any old daddy any day.”

  “Aunt Charley? Earth to Aunt Charley.”

  Charlotte blinked at the sound of her name, and when she glanced up, Judith was standing in front of her.

  “Are you okay, Auntie?”

  “Just daydreaming, hon.”

  “How about something to drink?”

  Charlotte nodded. “A Coke would be great. Thanks, hon.”

  “Anyone else?” Judith asked.

  Chapter 22

  Charlotte folded the Monday Times-Picayune and took it into the laundry room, where she kept a basket to collect the papers for recycling. A week had passed since June’s arrest, and for a change, there had been nothing new in the newspaper about the scandal surrounding Mimi Adams’s murder or about June Bryant.

  When Charlotte reentered the kitchen, she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Since it was only seven, in all likelihood, Gordon wouldn’t have left for work yet. Charlotte tapped her foot impatiently. What to do…what to do…

  She stared at the telephone on the cabinet. Using the excuse of an ongoing family crisis, she’d called and canceled work on Friday, but over the weekend she’d decided that canceling on Gordon yet again was simply delaying the inevitable. Knowing what she knew about Gordon, there was just no way she could continue working for him.

  Though nothing could be proven and there was no evidence that he’d had a part in poisoning Mimi, in Charlotte’s opinion, his affair with June made him just as morally guilty. By continuing his affair with June, he’d given her false hope and he’d encouraged her to think that if Mimi were out of the way, she would have a future with him.

  Charlotte didn’t believe in chance. For the most part, she believed that everything happened for a reason. And she’d thought long and hard about her circumstances. First, Marian had moved, leaving her Wednesday slot open, and now this. Was it possible that this was a sign, a sign that maybe it was time for her to finally retire? Then again, the Wednesday slot had already been filled by Sandra Wellington, and, of course, she still had Bitsy for the Tuesday slot. Without Gordon, though, she’d have Thursdays through Mondays off.

  Was it possible that she was getting a sneak preview of things to come, a time when she wouldn’t have to go to work at all? Charlotte didn’t know the answer, and she was tired of trying to figure it out. But for now, she still had unfinished business to take care of.

  With a resigned sigh, she walked over to the phone and dialed the Adams’s number. The phone rang four times, and then the answering machine kicked in.

  Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Thank you, thank you,” as she listened to the recorded greeting. Resigning the job didn’t bother her, but she had truly dreaded having to personally talk to Gordon. It was the coward’s way out, and she knew she should be ashamed, but this way was oh-so much easier.

  Charlotte opened her eyes just as the beep sounded in her ear. “Hi, Gordon,” she said. “This is Charlotte LaRue. I’m sorry for not giving you more notice, but I won’t be able to continue working for you. According to my records, you still owe me for two days’ work. If you would just mail my final check to my post office box address, I would appreciate it.”

  The moment she hung up the phone, it was as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. Though it felt a bit strange not having to get dressed and rush off to work, it was kind of a nice feeling—no hurrying, no following a strict schedule, and no having to face a dirty mess made by other people. Maybe she would take a nice leisurely walk around the block for a change, and maybe she would finally have time to begin painting her house inside and out, a project that she’d been thinking about for some time.

  It was midmorning and Charlotte had just walked into the kitchen to check on the pot of beef stew that she was cooking when the phone rang.

  She reached for the new portable phone she’d recently purchased and pressed the TALK button. “Maid-for-a-Day, Charlotte speaking.”

  “Today’s the day, Charlotte. Davy and I are expecting them any minute now.”

  Charlotte smiled. “Oh, Maddie, that’s wonderful,” she said, as a warm feeling spread within. Cradling the phone receiver between her chin and her shoulder, she reached for a wooden spoon and stirred the pot of beef stew.

  It had been almost a week since little Danielle had been born, and though she had been small and had had breathing difficulties in the beginning, she’d survived with flying colors.

  “Miracles still happen,” Madeline continued more soberly. “Lots of prayers went up for that baby girl.” A moment passed, and then suddenly she giggled. “Want to hear something funny? Before the doctor signed the release forms, he told Daniel t
hat he’d weighed her with a wet diaper on and she made the weight cut with half an ounce to spare.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that little doll.”

  “Well, you’ll have to stand in line. And, by the way, you are still bringing over their dinner, aren’t you?”

  “It’s almost done.” Charlotte tapped the wooden spoon against the top of the pot, then turned off the burner. “Beef stew, biscuits, and a salad.”

  “Yum yum, that sounds wonderful.”

  “Just as soon as the stew cools, I’ll bring everything over.”

  “Thanks, Charlotte. We’ll be waiting.”

  “See you then. Bye.” Charlotte clicked off the receiver and placed it on the countertop, then began cleaning up the mess she’d made while preparing the stew. She’d just loaded the last dirty dish into the dishwasher when the phone rang again.

  With a frown, she picked up the receiver and pressed the TALK button. “Maid-for-a-Day, Charlotte speaking.”

  “Hi, Charlotte, this is Sally Lawson.”

  Charlotte’s frown deepened. “Hi, Sally.”

  “I guess you’re wondering why I’m calling.”

  Charlotte was wondering, but she figured it would be impolite to just come right out and ask, so she didn’t reply.

  “I just got a call from Gordon,” she explained. “And he said you’d quit. Not that I blame you, not after what he did, what with carrying on with that June Bryant right under poor Mimi’s nose, but since you’re not working for him any longer, I was wondering if you might consider working me into your schedule. All I need is one day a week, and any day you choose would be fine with me. And I’d pay you well. I know what Gordon paid you, but I’d be willing to pay…”

  As Charlotte listened to Sally quote a price, temptation began to grow. She had liked Sally the first time she’d met her, and she had been truly relieved to find out that her very first impression of the woman had been right on target. Besides, the money that Sally was offering for one day of work was as much as she had made working two days a week for the Adamses.

  Was Sally’s offer yet another sign, she wondered, a sign that she shouldn’t retire just yet after all?

  “That’s a very generous offer,” Charlotte told her. More than generous, she thought, and before she had time to talk herself out of it, she said, “How about Mondays, say from nine to three-thirty? Mondays are a good day for me.”

  * * *

  A Cleaning Tip from Charlotte

  Always clean from the top of a room to the bottom of a room, especially when dusting, and always vacuum last.

  * * *

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of

  Barbara Colley’s next Charlotte LaRue mystery

  MARRIED TO THE MOP

  coming next month in hardcover!

  Chapter 1

  “Is this Charlotte LaRue with Maid-for-a-Day?”

  Charlotte barely suppressed an impatient groan. Why, oh, why had she answered the phone? She should have ignored it, or, at the very least, she should have checked the caller I.D. before answering it.

  Besides, today was Sunday, for Pete’s sake; she didn’t work on Sundays. She figured that if even the good Lord Himself had seen fit to rest one day a week, then who was she to question His wisdom?

  But ignoring a ringing phone had never been easy for her. She had always been just a bit superstitious that the very call that she ignored would be an emergency call informing her that something had happened to a member of her family.

  So, now that you know it’s not, just hang up the receiver.

  The temptation was strong, but she just couldn’t do it. With an impatient sigh, she finally said, “Yes, this is Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte, my name is Emily Rossi, and I need your help.”

  Charlotte sighed again and drummed her fingers on the desktop. The one thing she didn’t need was another customer. As it was, she had more work than she could handle. Besides, any minute now her family would be coming through the door expecting Sunday lunch, and she still needed to carve the roast and put the food on the table.

  Be nice, Charlotte, her conscience chided. Hear the woman out. You can always say no.

  Charlotte took a deep breath. “What kind of help do you need, Ms. Rossi?”

  “Just the general stuff, you know—dusting, vacuuming, mopping.”

  Charlotte glanced down at the envelope in front of her on her desk. The return address on the envelope belonged to Cheré Warner, one of her full-time employees. She’d received the envelope Friday, but hadn’t opened it yet, and, in fact, had put off opening it, dreading the contents, since she was fairly certain that it contained Cheré’s resignation letter.

  Charlotte tapped the envelope with her forefinger. Then there was Nadia. In addition to being her nephew Daniel’s wife, Nadia was also another full-time employee. Any day now Charlotte expected to get a resignation letter from Nadia as well. Not that Charlotte blamed either of the women for her decision.

  Cheré had been slowly but surely working her way through college. She’d graduated from Tulane in December and had been actively seeking other employment that fit her business degree.

  Nadia was still on maternity leave, but she’d been dropping hints about staying home with her new baby permanently instead of returning to work. And why not? As a well-respected attorney, Daniel made more than enough money to support his new family.

  Charlotte had figured that she and Janet Davis, her only part-time employee, could pinch-hit for a while, filling in for Cheré and Nadia until she found replacements for the two women. Anticipating the resignations, she’d gone ahead and placed an ad in the newspaper in hopes of hiring another full-time employee. As a result, she’d already received several résumés that looked good. Even so, she still had to interview them and…

  “Ms. Rossi, I’m really sorry. Right now I’m booked solid and am shorthanded. I just can’t take on any new clients.”

  A frustrated sound from Emily Rossi whispered through the phone line. “Not even temporary ones?” she asked. “I’m not looking for full-time, permanent help,” she hastened to add. “Only temporary help, just a few days until Jennifer—she’s my regular maid—can work again. My friend Bitsy—Bitsy Duhe—says you’re the best in the city. She’s had a family emergency—Jennifer, not Bitsy—and she isn’t sure when she can come back to work.”

  When Emily Rossi paused, Charlotte frowned. Either the poor woman was on the verge of a nervous breakdown or she was as scatterbrained as Bitsy.

  “Sorry,” Emily finally said. “I’m probably not making sense. It’s just that I’m at my wits’ end, and Bitsy, bless her old heart, assured me that not only were you the best, but you were trustworthy and—and discreet.”

  Discreet? Charlotte had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. She supposed she should be flattered, and she would have been had the compliment come from anyone but Bitsy. Bitsy Duhe was the worst gossip in all of New Orleans and didn’t know the meaning of the word discreet.

  “You see,” Emily continued, “my husband and I are giving a Mardi Gras party Friday night. We thought that would be the best time since the Endymion Parade and Ball is Saturday evening, and of course no one wants to miss Endymion. Of all times for Jennifer to take off, this is the worst. Not that she can help it,” Emily hastened to add. “Believe me, I understand about family emergencies. I’ve had a few of my own. Anyway, I only need you to come in on Thursday, half a day on Friday before the party, then clean up on Saturday and possibly Sunday after the party. Hopefully Jennifer will be back by the following Monday. And before you say no, I’m prepared to offer you two hundred dollars a day for all four days. Even the half day,” she added.

  Charlotte blinked and her breath caught in her lungs. Two hundred dollars a day? Emily Rossi had to be desperate indeed to offer that kind of money. Talk about an offer hard to refuse.

  After Charlotte remembered to breathe again, she once m
ore glanced down at the letter on her desk. “Ah, you did say ‘temporary’?”

  “Yes, just those four days. Really, just three and a half days,” she added quickly. “Eight hundred total. So, do you think you can do it?”

  Charlotte’s mind raced. If, as she suspected, the letter on the desk was Cheré’s resignation and if Cheré gave the requisite two weeks notice, then Charlotte figured that she could do it. She’d already resigned herself to the fact that once Cheré left, she’d have to give up her own two days off each week until she could find a replacement. Working for Emily Rossi just meant giving them up earlier than she had planned.

  Taking the temporary job would also mean that she’d have to work for almost two weeks straight, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done so and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Besides, she could use part of the money to finally buy paint for her house. The outside of the century-old Victorian double was beginning to look a bit shabby, and she’d been intending to repaint it now for the past two years. Any money left over could be added to her retirement account.

  “Hello? Ms. LaRue? Are you still there?”

  Emily Rossi’s words were barely above a whisper, and the desperation in her tone tugged at Charlotte’s heart. She’d been desperate a time or two in her life as well and knew how it felt.

  “I’m still here, Ms. Rossi.” Charlotte swallowed hard. So much for just saying no. She’d always been a sucker for a sob story. Yeah, and the money ain’t bad either. Ignoring the irritating voice in her head and telling herself that the money was not the only reason she was going to accept the offer, she said, “Okay, Ms. Rossi, what’s your address? And what time would you like for me to be there on Thursday?”