by Blake Pierce
She put the medication back into her drawer and got into bed.
Sleep seemed impossible. Her mind was racing. She worried what Zane would do, and how soon he’d call again, and how on earth she could manage to get into town to control the situation in time.
Then there was Pierre to worry about. She hadn’t had a chance to set up a warning system for her bedroom door. If she finally managed to sleep out of sheer exhaustion, she wouldn’t know if he came into her bedroom again.
Cassie sat up in bed, breathing fast, fighting to control her panic.
This was all too much for her. She’d been assigned to a broken family that was in huge conflict. These children needed an experienced mother figure, and professional help. Instead, all they had was her. And she was carrying her own baggage. She’d only managed to survive her toxic childhood with the help of her older sister, and she hadn’t survived it undamaged. She wasn’t strong enough, or capable enough, to handle this.
She had to quit.
As soon as this thought came to her, Cassie felt an enormous sense of relief.
She couldn’t stick this out any longer. She was the wrong person for the job, it was damaging her emotionally, and in the process, causing worse damage to the children.
Zane’s phone call was a timely reminder of what she needed to do.
After all, she’d decided on a fresh start to escape the abusive relationship with him. If her current employment was proving to be equally abusive, she shouldn’t hesitate to make the same call.
The only question was how to leave, but she could think about that tomorrow.
*
The early morning was dark and windy, and it looked as if the day would be overcast. The breeze was rattling her window and Cassie decided running would be a warmer option than walking.
She dressed quickly in her running gear and a tracksuit top, put her earphones in, and hooked her phone onto her belt. Then she quietly descended the stairs and went out, pleased to be the first person up and about.
She found a path that wound into the trees and followed it, jogging slowly as she figured out what she should say.
Zane’s phone call could surely be used as an excuse. There was a family emergency. Please come home. The only problem was that she didn’t want to tell Pierre he’d called the chateau.
Instead, she should be honest and upfront, and explain that the job was proving to be too much for her. That she hadn’t realized it would cause so much emotional stress, and that if she couldn’t look after herself, she couldn’t look after his children.
The thought of making that confession terrified her. Pierre would be predictably furious. Or worse still, he might try to talk her into staying.
Of course, there was always the third option, which was simply to leave. Just pack her bags and walk out, perhaps leaving a note to explain why she was quitting. Walk down the road, find the kind old man in the nursery, make a phone call, and get a cab to the airport.
From there it would be a gamble. She’d have to hope that it wasn’t too expensive to change her flight, and that one of her friends would be able to loan her the money to do it. Back in the USA, she’d have to go somewhere different so that Zane wouldn’t catch up with her again. She’d always wanted to spend time in Florida or New Orleans. Even in winter, there might be restaurants that were still hiring.
With her mind made up, she began to run with renewed purpose. Her route led her on a looping track that ended up circling the vineyards. These looked to be operational, with well-tended vines, and there was already a truck driving slowly out of a stone barn on the far side. The air was fresh and cool, and she breathed in a trace of wood smoke coming from the barn’s chimney.
Cassie realized she’d been out for nearly an hour. She’d better head back so that everyone would be on time for breakfast. She crested the hill and found a path that led directly back to the chateau. Breathless, but feeling at peace with her decision, she walked into the house.
Her bedroom door was ajar, and her first thought was that one of the housemaids was working inside, because she’d left it closed. Then, worrying that Pierre or Margot might have come to find out where she was, she approached more cautiously. She couldn’t let them suspect anything was wrong. She had to act completely normal until she found the right moment to leave.
Cassie pushed the door all the way open.
She stood, frozen with shock, as she saw the devastation inside.
While she was out, somebody had trashed her room.
Her clothes had been pulled from the shelves and strewn on the floor. Her suitcase was upended in the middle of the room. Her meds—she drew a sharp breath of horror—had been poured out of their containers and trampled into fragments on the tiles.
Cassie picked her way across the floor, feeling as if she were walking through one of her worst nightmares, and wishing it was just a bad dream. She couldn’t believe that somebody could have violated her private space in this way. She’d never guessed that she was so hated.
Her wallet had been thrown onto the bed, her bank cards scattered across the covers. The money inside was gone.
Just as she absorbed this blow, she realized something worse.
She’d stashed her passport in the zipper compartment of her bag, and that compartment was now wide open.
Cassie felt inside with a shaking hand, but the compartment was empty.
Somebody had stolen her passport.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cassie collapsed onto her bed, trembling all over. She realized she was sitting on the bare mattress, because the covers had been ripped from the bed, the pillows torn out of the pillowcases and tossed onto the floor.
She breathed deeply, trying her hardest not to burst into hysterical tears, knowing she couldn’t allow herself to fall to pieces right now. The unknown person who’d trashed her room would be waiting for an extreme reaction. They were probably hoping their actions would push her over the edge. She couldn’t let them know how badly this had shaken her. She simply wasn’t going to let them win.
Thinking this way helped her to cling to her sanity. After a few minutes, her shock had ebbed and she was calm enough to reason again.
There was a chance her passport could just have been tossed into the mess. Perhaps this mystery person had only taken the money after all.
Cassie stood up and, treading carefully to avoid the fragments of pills, she picked up her bedding, shook it out, and replaced it on the bed. One by one, she retrieved her clothes, folded them, and put them back in the cupboard. She picked up her bag and checked all the pockets again before putting it away.
No passport.
She checked under all the furniture.
No passport. The only thing she found was a single unbroken tablet; the sole survivor of the destruction. Carefully, she retrieved it and replaced it in the container.
The way her room had been trashed looked like an act of pure anger, but the theft of her passport went further. That was deliberate malice, and it couldn’t have had worse consequences for her.
Without her passport, she was effectively a prisoner here. Replacing it would be a costly and time-consuming process. Her lack of access to email and cell phones would be a hugely complicating factor.
Cassie felt crushed, as if her freedom had been ripped away from her at the last possible moment.
Who? Who could have done such a thing?
Antoinette was her prime suspect, after dropping that saccharine hint the previous night that things were going to get worse.
It could just as easily have been the strange, impulsive Marc—this senseless destruction was characteristic of him. And Cassie realized this might even have been Margot’s doing, prompted by sheer spite.
Ella might have wrecked her room to vent her anger, but why would she have taken the passport? If she had known what it was, she would have left it in place, because she clearly couldn’t wait to be rid of Cassie for good.
Cassie needed to find out who
was behind this. Confronting the family would have to be her next step.
She showered and changed quickly and then left her room, deciding she wouldn’t say exactly what had happened until everybody was together in one place. That would give her a chance to see all their reactions.
Cassie opened Antoinette’s bedroom door to find her neatly dressed and ready to go downstairs. She realized as she walked in that she’d forgotten to knock, but Antoinette did not remark on it. Was that a sign?
“Morning,” she said. “Will you come down to breakfast now, please? There’s something important I need to tell everyone.”
She stared hard at the girl and Antoinette returned her gaze for only a moment before looking away.
From the passage she heard the stomping of feet and looked around to see Marc passing by. Surprisingly, he had already dressed himself.
“You’re up early, Marc,” Cassie called, suspicion surging inside her.
“I’m hungry!” he shouted, heading for the stairs at a run.
When she went into Ella’s room, she found her curled up in bed, still in her pajamas. She looked to have been crying again. Quickly, Cassie helped her dress, asking if she’d slept well or had any bad dreams, but Ella remained sullen and unsmiling. She didn’t say a word to Cassie.
Pierre and Margot arrived at breakfast at the same time Cassie escorted Ella downstairs. Margot was still covering her throat—today she was wearing a high-necked navy jumper that clung to her perfect figure. Looking closer, Cassie saw something else. The perfect red nail on the index finger of Margot’s right hand was broken off, almost at the quick.
It could have happened during her struggles with Pierre. But it could just as easily have occurred while violently throwing Cassie’s possessions onto the floor.
“I have something very disturbing to tell you,” Cassie announced to Pierre when everyone was seated.
Pierre picked up the coffee jug and turned to her, frowning slightly.
“What is that, Cassie?” he asked.
“I went out for a run this morning and while I was gone, someone went through my bedroom. They threw all my clothes out onto the floor, tipped out my toiletries and medication. They crushed and destroyed my tablets. They took money from my wallet, and they also stole my passport.” She felt her voice start to tremble and controlled herself with an effort, wondering what reaction her words would provoke.
Pierre was the most visibly shocked. He slammed the jug on the table with a loud oath, his face turning to thunder.
“You are sure?” he asked Cassie incredulously.
“Well, of course.” Her voice was shaking badly now and she had to fight for control. “It happened less than an hour ago.”
“Did you take photos? Do you have visual proof of what occurred? We may need it,” Pierre interrogated her.
“No, no I didn’t. I tidied up while I looked for my passport. That’s what’s important. Nothing else. I don’t even mind about the missing money; it was just the change from what we spent at the carnival.”
She tore her gaze away from Pierre’s grim, glowering face and looked around at the others.
Antoinette, as usual, gave nothing away as she coolly stared back. Marc was wide-eyed and open-mouthed but she couldn’t tell if his shock was real or fake. Ella was still refusing to make eye contact, acting as if she hadn’t even heard the words. Looking down at the tablecloth, she seemed to have withdrawn into her own private world.
Margot was twisting a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Cassie thought she looked upset, but she might just be responding to Pierre’s mood.
“A missing passport is very serious,” Cassie said. “I’m actually not legal without it as I have no ID. I can’t travel, and it’s going to take a lot of time and expense to get a new one.”
Margot cleared her throat. Her voice was hoarse—she could speak this morning, but with difficulty.
“If money is missing, it was probably one of the staff,” she said. “Going through your possessions like that, someone was looking for valuables. I have had jewelry stolen before now.”
Pierre nodded agreement, his face grim.
“If you like, we can fire them all,” Margot suggested, as casually as if she’d been asking someone to pass the salt, and again Pierre nodded in support.
Cassie was shocked by Margot’s words, wondering if this blanket dismissal of household staff was a threat, or if it had actually happened before. Would this family really be prepared to fire their entire personnel after a suspected incident?
“No, no,” she said hastily. “Please don’t even think of doing that. It would be so unfair to all those who are innocent. I wouldn’t want them to lose their jobs for no reason.”
She hoped her words might be having an effect on somebody at the table, but now everyone was looking at each other instead of at her, making it more difficult to see.
“Perhaps I can ask Marnie to help,” Cassie said. “She knows the staff and could ask them if they saw or heard anything.”
“A good idea,” Pierre agreed. “Marnie has the day off today, but tomorrow she can assist you.”
Cassie hoped that since the friendly Marnie had been elsewhere, she would be out of the firing line.
“We can discuss it again tomorrow,” Pierre decided. “Today is a busy day.”
Cassie expected him to say more about her passport, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached for a pain au chocolat before passing around the tray of pastries, commenting on their fine quality this morning.
She realized that the loss of her passport had shattered her world, but had barely impacted upon Pierre’s. She was a disposable asset in this house, and Pierre did not understand or empathize with her plight. Perhaps he had already dismissed it as another piece of drama from a servant.
“What are the children doing today?” she asked, realizing that since the passport was no longer a topic for discussion, this question would be expected.
“Margot and I are taking them out this morning. I have a business meeting with a new client, in his beautiful art gallery near Orly. His wife and children are joining him there, and he suggested I bring my family too. We will be back in time for a late lunch, and then the children have afternoon activities which I will brief you on when we return.”
“Thank you. Your outing sounds wonderful,” Cassie said automatically, but as she spoke, the implications of his words hit home.
She would be in the chateau, on her own, for the entire morning.
“You should spend some time in the library while we are gone,” Pierre said. “There is a magnificent selection of books there, in both English and French.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that,” Cassie agreed, but she knew she wouldn’t have a chance. She had other, more important, items on her agenda.
This was the perfect opportunity—and the only one she might have, to search the entire chateau. If she was able to find her wallet in time, she might even be able to move ahead with her plans, and be gone for good before the Dubois family returned.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cassie waited impatiently for the family to depart. It seemed to take forever. Pierre was fussing over details. Ella’s outfit was not suitable; she could keep her blue coat on but must wear a smarter dress underneath. Marc’s hair had to be smoothed down with water to appear neat, and he was ordered to change into clean shoes.
She did her best to organize them as quickly as possible, but all three were visibly reluctant to go on this outing, and Ella was still not saying a word to her.
Finally, everyone was ready to go. Gravel crunched under the wheels as the big Mercedes wound its way down the driveway. Cassie ran upstairs to her bedroom and watched the car until it was out of sight. She told herself that if she looked away or blinked, her plans wouldn’t go the way she needed them to. Her eyes were watering by the time the car disappeared over the hill, but she hadn’t blinked, and could only hope it was a good omen.
Fretting with nerves, s
he waited another five minutes to be safe, in case anyone had forgotten anything.
When she was sure they were not coming back, she began her hunt.
She headed straight for the bedroom of the most likely suspect—Antoinette. As she opened the door, she felt a renewed surge of fighting spirit. She was not going to let this toxic family destroy her. She was going to do whatever it took to retrieve her possessions and escape—even if it meant searching their private spaces.
Antoinette’s room was so neat that the girl would notice immediately if anything was moved. Cassie knew she would have to put everything back just the way she found it.
She started with the cupboard, rummaging in jacket pockets, searching through piles of clothing, and looking into Antoinette’s pink suitcase and school bag. Then she checked the desk, going through each drawer.
A passport was so damned small, it could be anywhere. She even opened Antoinette’s journal to check whether it might be wedged in between the pages. She drew the line at reading what the girl had written in her secret book. That, she was not prepared to do.
Cassie couldn’t help noticing though, that the writing in the book was uncharacteristically messy, the words scribbled and disordered. So maybe this journal was Antoinette’s outlet in more ways than one. Pressured to keep her room and her life in a state of perfection, this must be the one place she allowed herself to rebel.
Twenty frustrating minutes later, Cassie left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She’d hoped, had even expected, that this was where she would find it. But she’d searched in every possible hiding place, including under the mattress and inside the pillowcase, and it was nowhere to be found.
Marc’s room was next. Luckily, in this messy environment, she didn’t have to be so careful. As long as she didn’t upset the formation of his battle army on the floor, she doubted if he’d notice or care whether anything had been moved.
