Caramel let go of the wheel. She turned her whole body to face Jane.
Then she slapped her across the face.
Jane’s head jerked to the side, and the sharp sting of the slap made Jane’s ears ring. A flash of anger reverberated through her. How dare! How dare! Then she scooted to the edge of the seat, ready to jump and run. Caramel was unhinged, and Jane was ready.
Caramel snarled, and backhanded her across the other cheek.
Jane swayed, then tumbled backwards, flailing for the cart as she fell. Anger burned in her chest. She rolled to her knees and looked up at the cart. What was Caramel’s game? Jane wasn’t about to let herself be a punching bag for pent up emotions. A trickle of hot blood dripped down her face. Her cheek burned with pain. She pressed the palm of her hand against the gash in her cheek.
Caramel held her hand up, a huge diamond ring glinted in the sun. “They found the ring you stole, you nasty whore.”
Jane scrambled to her feet and backed away from the cart. “I didn’t!”
“Shoved down his throat.” Caramel spun the golf cart around so that it faced Jane. “Did you do it because he wouldn’t leave me? Is that why?”
Jane ran backwards, slipping on the damp grass. Her only thought was “run” and she tried.
The cart skittered toward her in awkward bursts.
Jane turned and ran as hard as she could toward the house.
The cart sped up. Caramel was at her heels.
Jane stepped to the side, her breath shallow in her chest.
The cart was next to her, so she grabbed the windshield frame and swung into the cart. “I only met your husband one time.” Jane lunged for the steering wheel and wrestled it from Caramel. She pointed the cart toward the sheds.
“Liar.” Caramel butted Jane with her shoulder.
Jane rocked in her seat, but held on to the wheel.
“It wasn’t me, Caramel. I never touched him. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know him.”
Caramel slammed the brakes. She spun in her seat and drove her elbow into Jane’s chest.
Jane gasped, the wind knocked out of her, and skidded across the vinyl seat. She grabbed for the window frame again, but it slipped from her fingers. She thudded onto the ground and rolled away from the cart, letting momentum and gravity send her as far down the hill as they could. She was headed away from the house, where the guests who could help her were, but she still had her phone.
When she slowed, she pulled herself up and ran. She ran to the forest and climbed over the fence.
Caramel spun the cart around. She appeared to be driving it as fast as she could, but if Jane had to guess, the little cart wouldn’t be able to crash through the gate. If Caramel wanted to chase her down, she’d have to get out of the vehicle.
Jane pushed her way through the brambles, on the side of the wide trail. When she was deep enough into the wooded part of the lot that she couldn’t see Caramel, she pulled out her phone and dialed 911.
“Fire, ambulance, or police?”
“Police, please!”
“Okay, hold please.”
The phone clicked over almost instantly to the police. “This is the police.”
“My name is Jane Adler and I’m a maid and my boss hit me and is trying to run me over with her golf cart.” She weaved her way through the trees.
“With her golf cart?”
“Yes, sir. It’s Caramel Swanson; her husband just died. I think she’s cracked.” The trail came out near the neighbor’s tennis court. Jane kept to the side of the court closest to the house, hoping she was in eyesight of someone inside.
“Are you in a safe place now?”
“Almost.” Jane had made it to the front of the neighbor’s house. “I see my car, just ahead.” Jane ran to the little blue Mazda parked across the street.
“Do you see your boss anywhere?”
“No.”
“Then get to your car, and lock yourself in. What is your location?”
Jane gave the address.
“We’re sending an officer right over. If you think you aren’t safe, come straight to the police station. Do you understand?”
“Yes!” Jane let herself into the car and locked all of the doors.
“Okay, stay on the line, until you see the police arrive.”
Jane wrenched her bandana off of her head and pressed it to her cheek. Now that she was sitting and catching her breath the pain was almost unbearable.
Jane watched the minutes clicking past on her phone. If she hadn’t been able to see them she would not have believed that only three minutes had passed before the police car pulled up.
She waved wildly, trying to get their attention.
One of the officers saw, and came to her window.
“Jane Adler?” The officer was a young guy with a receding hairline ,whose badge said McConnell.
“Yes, I’m Jane. I think Caramel is still out back.” Jane took the blood-soaked bandana off of her cheek and refolded it.
Officer McConnell peered at Jane’s cheek. “I think you need stitches for that.”
Jane touched her cheek again. The gash was deep, and wide. It burned, as did her arms and legs from running through the brambles.
“Are you going to press charges?”
“I…” Jane paused. She had only called the police to make Caramel stop, not to get her arrested.
“This is assault, ma’am. It’s a serious offense.”
“I know. I just hadn’t thought of that. Her husband just died, and she thinks I… well, I don’t really know what she thinks, but she’s mad and she took it out on me.” If she had Caramel arrested, no one would let Jane come back to clean, and her search for clues would be over. Did she want to cut herself off from her investigation?
And when had she started considering it an investigation?
No. She did not want to cut herself off. She wanted to get to the bottom of this. Someone had killed Douglas, and it wasn’t Jane. And despite Caramel’s erratic violence, she didn’t think it had been her, either.
“Do you want us to just give her a warning?”
“Maybe. Can you do that?” Jane let her breath out slowly. If she could negotiate this situation effectively, she could maintain access to the house.
“Did your boss have a weapon on her?” asked the other officer—a motherly woman with short gray hair and a name tag that said “Taylor.”
“No, not that I saw.”
“Do they keep guns in the house?”
Jane furrowed her brow. “I can’t be certain, but I haven’t seen any guns.”
“Then why don’t you come back with me, and we’ll see if we can talk to her?”
“I think she needs mental help.” Jane followed the officer into the house.
Caramel was seated on the edge of her white leather sofa speaking in clipped tones to the other officer.
“Why don’t you tell us what’s been going on?”
“The maid killed my husband.” Caramel thrust her chin out.
Jane prayed hard, and silent. This might be her last chance to get information out of Caramel.
“Did you hit your maid?” Officer McConnell, asked.
“She stole my ring and shoved it down my husband’s throat, after she drowned him.”
“Did you hit your maid with your ring?” McConnell asked his question a little differently this time, and an irritated edge came into his voice.
Caramel looked down at her hand. “They won’t give me back the ring she stole. It’s evidence.”
“Why do you think I did this, Caramel?” Jane stood beside the officer, liking the safety his presence offered.
“Douglas liked the maids. All of them.” She grimaced.
“But not me. Remember? I’m dating your friend Mrs. Daniel’s son Isaac. I only met your husband once.”
Caramel’s chin quivered. “She killed him and shoved my ring down his throat because he wouldn’t leave me.” She turned her eyes to the motherly offic
er Taylor. “He didn’t leave his first wife, either. She left him. He wasn’t faithful, but he was committed.”
“But you don’t really think it was this girl, do you?” Officer Taylor gestured to Jane. “She’s just a kid.” Her voice was warm and calming.
“But it couldn’t have been Danae. She’s out of the country.”
Danae.
So Danae Monroe was their maid. And probably the employee the cops were looking for as well.
“Caramel.” Officer McConnell’s voice was even lower now. “The police are doing their best to find out what happened to your husband. And we don’t think that this girl had anything to do with it.”
Jane chewed her lip. Douglas was “committed.” Had he been keeping up with the same “other woman” for all these years? A Danae Monroe from his old days as mayor who was currently his regular house maid? Jane’s heart sped up. “Caramel, did Danae ever work for Douglas when he was mayor? Is she your regular maid?”
Caramel sniffed loudly. “Danae is just a cleaner. She cleans offices all over town. Maybe she used to clean that one, too.”
“Mrs. Swanson, Jane said she doesn’t want to press charges.”
Caramel turned to Jane. Her face was dead and emotionless.
“I think you need to let her go. Okay? You should take a few days to relax, and then find a new maid.” Officer Taylor continued to use her soothing voice, almost like she was clearing up a fight between two of her own children.
Jane flipped her gaze back and forth between Caramel and the officer, adrenaline rushing through her whole body. She didn’t want the officer to make her quit. She wasn’t ready to walk away from this yet. “I don’t mind coming back. I mean, I don’t think she’d do this again. She knows I didn’t do anything. I could give it a few days, though, and just come back quietly, like on Wednesday?”
“That’s not a good idea,” McConnell said.
“I don’t mind.” Jane’s heart was going a mile a minute. Not only didn’t she mind, she was dying to get back into the house alone. She wanted to find out what was really in the boxes, and see if she could wrangle some more information about Danae Monroe out of Caramel.
“Why don’t you go home now, Jane, and think it over?” the motherly officer said. “Go get your face stitched up and then decide if you really want to come back.”
Caramel stood up. “I will decide if I want her to come back.” Her words fell flat. If she had wanted to pull off an in-charge, imperious attitude, it had failed.
Jane walked herself to the front door without another word. Officer McConnell went with her. “Don’t come back here. That woman is crazy.”
“She’s hurting.” Jane put her hand on the doorknob. “And alone. I don’t think she’ll do it again.”
The officer looked Jane up and down. He shook his head. “If you knew how many dead people said that same thing.”
Jane looked at her sneakers. That was true. She sounded exactly like the kind of people that ended up dead. “I’ll be careful.”
Officer McConnell walked her to her car in silence. When she opened the door he spoke again. “I wouldn’t let me wife go back to that house, even if we were about to be evicted. No amount of money is worth your life.” He looked down at his hand.
Jane followed his glance and saw the dull gold band on his finger. “I won’t come back alone.”
The officer returned to his car, shaking his head as he walked.
Jane was coming back; that was 100% for sure. But she’d bring someone… Kaitlyn or Holly maybe, next time.
Chapter 21
For a full day, Jane toyed with the pieces of the very ugly puzzle before her. An ex-wife who was still hurting from the divorce, and possibly the death, though she wouldn’t admit it.
A daughter who saw nothing wrong with her father marrying her sorority sister.
A son who might have been in love with the sorority sister.
A lover who left her phone behind.
A maid no one seemed to like.
A brother-in-law with a history of violence.
Jane thought it fairly obvious that the lover was the maid. As a maid, she was beneath him socially, like Pride and Prejudice code names on the phone would indicate. And if she had been both his maid at home and at work while he was the mayor, she was probably the reason Alexandra had left Douglas years ago.
But according to Jane’s own work schedule, the maid was still away on her vacation, and quite possibly did not yet know that her long-time lover was dead.
Caramel’s brother had done something ugly to Amy. From the hints Amy had dropped, Jane guessed date rape.
The one day she had met Douglas, he had made a comment… what was it? Something about the new ring not being too expensive… but he had said it in a disgusted voice. Douglas had not liked Joe, and for good reason. But had Joe hated Douglas?
But what about the evidence of the towels and the hamper? They pointed to someone being in the tub with Douglas, and still being in the house while Jane was there. Would Joe have been there that morning?
Would Joe have had a dip in the spa with his brother-in-law?
What about Amy? She seemed comfortable at her dad’s house. Had she hopped in the tub with her dad for some fatherly chit-chat and then killed him? Why would she have? For selling the horses?
The people with motive didn’t seem to have access to Douglas. The people with access didn’t seem to want him dead.
Jane considered Alexandra again.
Had she come by to see her ex-husband? Perhaps they had rekindled their youthful love at some point? Maybe Alexandra had even pursued Douglas with the idea of killing him already in mind?
Jane drummed her fingers on her desk.
The most tantalizing clues were the towels and the phone. Had the lover snuck home early from her vacation? Had she killed Douglas and then made off with the clues that she had been there?
Jane had established, to her own liking, that Caramel couldn’t have had a dip in the tub, then hidden in the closet, gotten rid of the evidence, and come back up the driveway dry and dressed. There just wasn’t enough time between discovering the body and seeing Caramel for her to be the killer. But what about an ex-wife set on vengeance?
Alexandra could have done it. She was petite, so hiding in the closet and ducking around bushes and things as she ran away would have been easy.
Jane just needed proof. But first, she had to go clean another house. Groceries wouldn’t buy themselves.
Her phone rang a few times while she drove home from cleaning her client’s house, so she pulled over to see what was going on. The first message was a garbled mess from Gemma, but the gist was that Stephanie had found something weird.
While playing the second message her phone rang again.
“Gemma?”
“Jane—listen! You know how Caramel’s ring has been missing?”
“Yes?” Jane squeezed the steering wheel.
“We think we found the matching bracelet.”
“What do you mean?”
“It gets weird. Hold on to your hat. Stephanie was cleaning up a bit, and she found this bracelet… She was using your cleaning stuff—the bucket of stuff that’s at the apartment.”
Her work supplies. Wonderful. “What about the bracelet?”
“It’s really fancy, thick gold with lots of diamonds. It’s not mine, and it’s not Stephanie’s and I’m pretty sure it’s not yours.” Gemma poured the words out breathlessly.
“But why would Caramel’s stuff be in my supplies? I have my cleaning caddy that I take from house to house with me. That one’s just the refills.” Jane had a sick feeling in her stomach She was sure the bracelet was Caramel’s, as Gemma suggested, but the only way it could have made it into her things was too horrible to consider.
“I don’t want you to freak out, but here’s the rest of the story.” Gemma paused for a breath. “Stephanie stripped the bed to do the laundry, and she found a letter in your pillow. I said it had
to be from Isaac, but she said it couldn’t be because it was signed ‘D,’ and I said Isaac’s last name was Daniels, but she swears it could only be from Douglas, so… Now, don’t freak out, but Stephanie’s a little scared because you have this fancy bracelet, and she thinks you have a love letter from the dead guy.”
“That’s not my letter.” Jane’s jaw was tight. She was being set up.
“But it has to be; it was in your pillow.”
“I saw it after Steph moved in and I thought it was hers. She was sleeping with it in the pillow, not me.”
“I think that’s why she was freaking, because she was sleeping on someone else’s love letter. Not because you were doing anything wrong.”
“It’s not my letter.”
“Okay, it’s not. But the bracelet in your stuff… what do we do about that?”
Jane’s head was pounding. She didn’t want to think that Gemma’s friend had set her up, but if not, then someone else had broken into their place and left behind stuff to frame her. An enemy she didn’t know was even more horrifying than one sleeping in her bed. Jane took a deep breath before she spoke. “Gemma… how well do you know Stephanie?”
“What do you mean?” Gemma’s voice was still high and excited.
“I mean, could she be a klepto? Could she have grabbed that bracelet somewhere and now just be blaming our unusual circumstances for it?” Jane crossed her fingers, hoping this simple answer would fix everything.
“Absolutely not, Jane. Don’t be ridiculous.”
If Stephanie wasn’t an innocent kleptomaniac, then something much worse had just happened. Jane steeled herself for a confrontation. “Where are you? Can you meet me at the police station on Burnside?”
“We’re just having lunch—we’re not far from there.”
“Then get here fast—both of you—and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
Gemma and Stephanie were so fast that they pulled in right behind Jane.
They went inside together, Jane leading the way to the front desk. “Excuse me?” Jane’s voice cracked like a child’s. She gritted her teeth and tried to steady her voice. “We had a weird incident at our apartment that we think might be related to the death of Douglas Swanson.
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