“It must be sad to be widowed so young.” Jane sighed and looked toward a picture of Douglas and Caramel that was magneted to the side of the fridge.
“I can’t imagine it myself,” Amy said. “And they’d only been married a few years.”
“Were they happy?”
Amy shrugged. “Happy enough. She knew what my dad was like when I introduced them. But I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind.”
Jane straightened up. “You introduced Caramel to your dad?”
“Yeah. And I feel so guilty about it now.” Amy stretched her arms behind her head. Jane tried not to stare at her perfect chest.
“Guilty? But why?”
“Caramel was my sorority sister. We have a pledge to each other. If it weren’t for me introducing them, she would be happily married to someone else right now, instead of a widow.” Amy’s eyes welled up with tears. She brushed them aside. “My mom thought I was crazy, but I knew she would make Dad happy, and that Dad would make her happy enough.” Amy set her water bottle down. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I think they were happy, I really do. But now, she is so sad.”
Jane had one shot at this. She had to ask something that would bring a useful answer. Something she could never find out on her own.
She took a deep breath. “So why do you think Caramel doesn’t want her brother Joe to come by?”
Amy stiffened.
Jane waited.
“I think the restraining order is reason enough.”
“She has a restraining order against her brother?” Jane tried to sound innocently surprised instead of shocked, which is how she really felt.
Amy looked toward the hall. She shifted her feet. “No, I do.” She grabbed her water bottle and moved toward the kitchen door, but she paused, looking unsure of what she wanted to do next.
“But why? Isn’t he your friend, too?” Jane blinked, hoping it made her look sweet like Holly.
Amy inhaled sharply. “No, he is not my friend.” She almost walked away. “Jane, you’re just a kid, but trust me, you don’t always know someone like you think you do. Always, always take your drink straight from the bartender himself. Do you understand?”
Jane nodded. She felt sick. “Will he be at the funeral? I mean, Caramel is his sister…”
“If he shows his face at the funeral home or this house, he is going straight to prison.” She spun on her heel and left before Jane could ask the question that was burning on her lips. Did Douglas know that Joe had assaulted his daughter? And had that knowledge led to a fight that ended in his death?
Jane slipped out the back door, no closer to knowing who had killed Douglas, and no closer to proving she hadn’t invented the evidence that someone was in the hot tub with him. She was about to drive away when Amy knocked on her car window.
Jane unrolled it. “I’m so sorry…”
Amy waved her hand. “It was a long time ago, but that doesn’t make it better.”
Jane nodded.
“I want to you to do something for me, if you can.”
“Sure.” Jane left her hand on the stick shift, wiggling it back and forth a little in neutral.
“Caramel is a mess, but so is my mom. And my mom is coming by the house later today.”
“She is?”
“I know, it seems weird. But I’m staying here with Caramel for a few days, while she pulls herself together. And Mom is just bringing some pictures and things by for the funeral. Stuff from when we were kids, and when he was a kid.”
“What can I do?”
“Can you pick up my dry cleaning and bring it back here? I don’t want to be gone when my mom gets here. But also, it would be nice to have an unrelated party at the house while Caramel and my mom are in the same building. So, do you think you could pick it up and bring it back around three?” Amy passed her a dry cleaning ticket. “Do you have the time?”
Jane clipped the ticket to her visor. “Of course. I can be here at three. I really do want to help.”
“Thanks, Jane. You may be the first housekeeper who actually wanted to help this family.” With that, Amy turned back to the house.
Jane went through the motions until it was time to get the dry cleaning. Houses were cleaned, clients paid her, she chatted with Gemma and Stephanie over lunch, but all she thought about the whole time was the dry cleaning that would let her be in on the showdown between the new, young wife and the ex-wife. She only wished the other maid, who had most likely been sleeping with Douglas during both marriages, could have been on hand as well. When it was time to go, she could hardly contain her excitement.
Jane folded the slippery dry cleaning bags over her arm. There were several heavy garments, each one just long enough to drag on the ground if she wasn’t careful. Jane held her arm up at shoulder height and let herself into the Swansons’ house by the back door.
Two cars she didn’t recognize were parked out front. Perhaps Alexandra—the ex Mrs. Douglas Swanson—and Amy?
Jane heard the sounds of conversation coming from the front room, so she went there and stood quietly by the door.
Amy stood at the window, gazing out.
A petite redhead, who reminded Jane of Dr. Laura, stood next to the fireplace, in front of Caramel’s wedding picture. She was speaking in a low voice to a man with thin blond hair and wire glasses, who sat on the white leather sofa.
Jane cleared her throat.
Amy looked toward her. “Thank you.”
The older woman turned slowly toward Jane. “Ahh.” Her thin lips formed the syllable and held themselves there for a moment. “You aren’t Caramel.”
Jane shook her head. “No, ma’am. I’m the substitute maid while the regular is on vacation.” Jane wasn’t going to make the mistake of appearing to be Douglas’s current pretty young thing again.
Alexandra shrugged slightly.
Amy took the clothes from Jane. “She stopped off to get my things.” Amy looked from the man on the couch to her mother again. “I think Caramel needs her this afternoon. Until then, um…” She appealed to Jane with her eyes.
The crisis hadn’t occurred yet, and Amy looked desperate for Jane to stay. “Can I make you all some coffee?” Jane asked.
The man on the couch looked up at Jane, his face relaxing. “That would be nice.”
Jane held out her hands for the clothes. “Let me take those to your room.”
“No, it’s okay.” Amy pulled away from Jane’s reach. The clothes slipped in her arms. Amy bent to gather them back up.
“It’s not a bother.” Jane reached for a blue dress that was draped on the floor.
Amy grabbed it with her fist and pulled it to her chest. “I said no!”
Jane stepped back. “I’ll get the coffee, then.”
Amy struggled with the slick plastic dry cleaning bags, until they all fell to the ground.
“For God’s sake, let the maid do that,” Alexandra snapped.
The man on the sofa stood up. “I’ll grab them, sis.”
“Matthew, you are worse than Amy.”
Matthew ignored his mother and gathered the bags up. “Which room are you in?”
Amy lunged for the bags.
Matthew jerked his arms back, then laughed. “Sorry. Gut reaction. Sibling thing.” He held the garments out for his sister.
Jane watched from the kitchen. Why didn’t Amy want anyone to take the clothes? Couldn’t be anything wrong with the clothes themselves. Jane had just taken them from the dry cleaners, at Amy’s request. Was the problem in Amy’s room? Someone or something in there that shouldn’t be?
Jane took her time filling the coffeemaker with water.
Amy laughed, a tight, nervous sound. “Thanks.” She pressed the clothes to her chest and left the room. Jane counted while she listened to the tread of Amy’s feet upstairs. It sounded as though she stopped at the first guest bedroom.
Jane took out a tray and prepped the sugar, creamer, spoons, and such.
Alexandra�
�s voice was too low to hear, but Matthew’s wasn’t. “She’s not so bad, Mom.”
Jane strained to hear Alexandra, but failed. She peeked around the corner to see what they were doing.
“That’s not fair.” Matthew was pacing. He was short like his father, thin like his mother, and older than Jane had expected. He looked like he was almost forty. “First of all, it was a very long time ago.”
Alexandra’s voice rose. “It doesn’t seem long ago from my perspective.”
The coffee had finished brewing so Jane filled the cups.
“Well, it was. It was almost twenty years ago.”
“And here you are, all ready to offer comfort.”
Jane stood in the kitchen door with her tray of coffee wondering exactly when the right time to break in would be.
Amy ran down the stairs, and into the living room. “Mom, don’t be gross.”
“He took her to prom.” Alexandra spit the word out.
“Homecoming, Mom.” Amy sat on the couch, and stretched her arms across the back. “And it was a group date.”
“It is disgusting.”
Matthew sat in a wingback chair across from his sister.
Jane went straight to Alexandra with her tray.
Alexandra waved her hand and turned away.
“Really, Mom. Stop and think. Twenty years ago, I went to my little sister’s homecoming with a group of her sorority sisters. Five years ago, Dad married one of them. It’s not as bad as you are making it sound.”
“Mom, really. It’s not that bad. Caramel isn’t Matty’s type anyway.”
Jane held her tray up, standing to the side. She didn’t want to stop the most interesting flow of conversation she had just stumbled into.
Alexandra looked up at the picture of the blonde, tan, full-figured Caramel in her slinky wedding dress. “Really?” She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.
“Matty has always preferred academic women.”
Matthew’s color rose until he was strawberry red. “My love life is no one’s business.” He stood up stiffly. “Mom, I can’t stay here all day. Let me go get the stuff for the funeral, okay?”
“Fine.” She sniffed, then reached for a mug from Jane’s tray.
Matthew hurried out the front door.
Alexandra turned to Amy. “You and I both know your brother was in love with that girl.”
“Caramel wasn’t right for him. He would have been miserable.”
“But she was right for your father?” The mug shook in Alexandra’s hand. “And after what Joe did to you.”
Amy sat up. Her jaw quivered as she spoke. “That wasn’t Caramel’s fault. Or Dad’s. Or Matt’s.”
Alexandra sucked her lips in like a tight knot.
“Or mine.” Amy stood up. Her big hazel eyes were full of tears. “My daddy just died, Mother. Do you realize that, or is this still all about you?”
Alexandra swept her silky scarf over her shoulder. “Is she going to stay upstairs the whole time I’m here?”
“It looks like it.” Amy took a deep breath. “We’ll get the boxes in, and then you and Matt can leave. How’s that?”
Matthew entered with two plastic bins stacked up to his eyebrows. “Is this everything, Mom?”
“Yes, that’s it. All I had left of your father.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t burn it,” Amy said.
“I was tempted.” Alexandra sat down. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I just can’t wrap my mind around it. I can’t believe he really is gone.”
Amy held a tissue to her eyes. “Neither can I, Mom.”
“He wasn’t a great guy, but he had such a force of personality.”
Matthew set the boxes on the floor next to the couch. “You were married to him for a long time, Mom.”
Alexandra shook her head. “It was another lifetime.”
Jane’s arm was aching, but she didn’t dare set the tray down. Could Matthew have killed his father to get to Caramel? Could Alexandra have killed Douglas out of a rage that had simmered all these years? And was Caramel hiding upstairs because of Alexandra or Matthew?
Matthew set the plastic containers down. “Let me take that for you.” He took the tray of coffee and set it on the coffee table. Her cover gone, Jane slipped back into the kitchen.
She wished for a moment that the Swanson house wasn’t so new. She would have loved to sneak up to the bedrooms via the servant’s staircase, but there was no such thing. Jane emptied the coffee filter into the trash instead. Until Amy told her it was time to go, she could stay, even if she felt awkward just hanging around.
“Take what you need for the book, Matthew, and leave the rest for Caramel. I don’t want any of it back.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Matthew’s voice was husky, like he was holding back a sob.
“Let me go through it, too, will you?” Amy asked. “I mean, after you’ve gotten everything you need.”
“Of course.”
A book? Perhaps that’s why Matthew had removed the files from the mayor’s office.
Caramel, with a freshly sprayed tan, blonder hair, and higher heels than the last time Jane had seen her, descended the stairs and sauntered into the living room, her full lips pouting. Amy stood and gave her a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m making it.”
“Caramel.” Matthew offered his hand.
Caramel smiled sadly. “Matthew,” she drawled. She ignored his hand and gave him a hug. In her heels, she was several inches taller than him. “When did you make it in?” She lingered at his side, with her arm around his waist.
“Last night. I left the school as soon as I could get away.” He patted her hand, and slipped out of her embrace.
“Alexandra.” Caramel held out her hand.
Alexandra took it. She wrapped it in both of her hands. “Oh, child.” Her voice broke, and she turned away.
Caramel sighed. “Can I get you anything?”
Alexandra waved her hand. “No, I can’t stay. I brought the things you asked for. I really don’t want them back.”
“Of course.” Caramel shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Don’t worry about it, Care. Matthew and I will take care of whatever you don’t need.”
Caramel swept her glossy hair out of her eyes. “Yes, thank you.” Caramel helped herself to a cup of coffee. She turned toward the kitchen.
Jane stepped to the side, trying to keep out of eyesight.
Matthew picked up a white leather handbag. “Mom, are you ready?”
Alexandra gave her daughter a side hug.
“We’ll see you at the funeral.” Caramel gave Matthew another long embrace. From Jane’s limited view, he looked like he was squirming to get away.
Chapter 20
When Matthew and Alexandra were gone, Caramel sat down. “Don’t let the maid leave when you are done with her.”
“She just brought over my laundry and stayed for a minute to help,” Amy said with a tinny laugh.
“Well, I need her, so tell her to stay.” Caramel sipped her coffee.
Amy sighed. “Of course.”
She went straight to the kitchen. “I don’t know what’s on Caramel’s mind, but she doesn’t look well to me. She wants you to stay and help her with something. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I don’t mind staying.” Jane rinsed out the coffee mugs Amy had brought in with her. She especially didn’t mind staying if it meant she could check out what Amy was hiding in her bedroom.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Amy chewed on her bottom lip. “Being a support to Caramel is all well and good in theory, but the woman is going to drive me mad.”
Jane smiled and nodded, trying to hide her excitement. How much better to sneak around in the bedroom upstairs while Amy was gone.
“I can’t guess what Caramel is going to ask of you, or when, so I suggest you sit back and make yourself comfortable.” Amy pressed both of her hands on the marble co
unter and took a deep breath. “Best of luck to you.”
“I don’t mind, honest.”
Amy left through the back door.
After about fifteen minutes of waiting in the kitchen, Caramel called for Jane. She was in the basement hall, near the garage.
“Jane, come help me with these boxes.” Caramel stood in front of a short stack of cardboard moving boxes. “Stack them on the back seat of the golf cart.”
Jane looked through the open door to the garage, no golf cart.
“It’s by the back door.”
Of course. The sliding door to the hot tub room. Jane hefted two boxes. They were small, but heavy.
“Douglas’s law books. We’re going to drive them down to the storage. His son can come get them later.”
“You don’t want them anymore?” Jane made her way to the stairs, but kept her face toward Caramel.
“They went to Matthew in the will, so it doesn’t matter if I want them.” There was an abused tone to Caramel’s voice. Not so much grief as… exhaustion? Yes, Caramel sounded tired. Caramel lifted two boxes. “When he is ready to collect his things, every item listed under his name will be waiting in the shed.” She pushed her way past Jane, and went down the stairs.
It only took two trips to the golf cart to get all of the boxes.
“Come on down with me.” Caramel climbed into the driver’s seat of the cart.
Jane got in next to her.
The little cart putted its way down the perfectly manicured lawn. About half way to the sheds Caramel stopped. She turned to Jane, her eyes narrowed.
“He would not have left me for the maid.”
“Of course not.” Jane tilted her head in sympathy. “He loved you.”
“Ladies may have been his hobby.” Caramel held the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. “But I was his passion. From the day he met me, I was his passion.”
“Of course.” Jane tried to think of something comforting to add. “I’m sure everyone knew you were his true love.”
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