The footsteps stopped and she felt the hinge moving against her arm as the door was pushed open.
You can’t see me, you can’t see me, I’m the invisible woman.
“Grant?” a female voice called out quietly. Sadie opened one eye, but the door blocked whoever it was.
Don’t come in, don’t come in, don’t come in.
The mystery visitor paused an inordinate amount of time before the door began to close, allowing Sadie to breathe again, though the rush of blood in her ears made it difficult for her to hear anything else. The door was pulled shut with a snap and Sadie sent a million thank-you prayers to heaven as she opened her eyes and stepped out from the corner she’d wedged herself into. She stared at the door with absolute fear. Did she dare open it again? The thought made her physically ill. That she’d been so close to discovery was proof that she was not invincible and it made her knees shake. What was she doing? It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed her mind, but she must be crazy to be here at all.
Her eyes went to the small window above Grant’s bed, but she didn’t know how she could get to it. With no other option, she looked back to the doorknob, reminding herself that crazy or not she had to get out of this room before someone found her standing here with Grant’s letter shoved in her pocket. She took a deep breath, summoning all her courage and positive thoughts, and turned the knob. She was about to pull the door open when she remembered the paper sticking out from underneath the shaving kit.
Ignoring it was always an option, but even with her renewed concerns toward her current state of mental health, it wasn’t in Sadie’s nature to ignore something that could be important. With the door opened barely an inch, she reached forward and carefully scooted the paper out from under the kit. It was a half sheet, folded over once, and it only took a flick of her fingers to open it.
Master Liam,
Please allow me to explain myself fully so that you might know I am not the one worthy of the blame you place here—not the only one at least. Meet me in the sitting room while the final tea is being prepared for your guests. Please accept my apology in advance for the things I must tell you.
Sincerely,
John Henry Barro
Chapter 31
~
Sadie read it again and her heart raced. She wanted to believe that Liam had simply had an argument with John Henry and that his recent mood was due to the fact that his father was sick. But with these words in hand she could not ignore the question—could Liam have killed John Henry?
It was a horrible thought and one that part of her rebelled against so strongly she clenched her eyes shut and shook her head. And yet when she opened her eyes and read the note again she had to admit that if she was being truly objective, it was a possibility—in fact it was the strongest possibility she’d encountered thus far. Even more than Austin. Whereas Austin had a bad attitude, a secret, and a suspect nature—there was nothing about the murder that directly pointed to him. Liam, however, had motive—he was angry with John Henry in regard to the earl’s care and they had argued, a fact he kept from everyone, including the police. And, if Liam knew John Henry was in the sitting room—per this note—it meant he had opportunity as well.
Even though it broke her heart to do so, Sadie forced herself to look at the possibility. Breanna and Sadie would have been upstairs packing while the final tea was being prepared. The fact that Grant would have been the one preparing the tea meant he wouldn’t be on hand to see anyone enter the sitting room. John Henry had something important to tell Liam—could he have hidden behind the curtains to make sure that no one else saw him?
She read the note again. I am not the one worthy of the blame you place here—not the only one at least.
Mrs. Land had been blackmailed into doing something against her nature. Was John Henry being blackmailed too? Had he had enough; was he ready to blow it all wide open? And yet the inspector said he was using a borrowed name, was not a nurse, and had outstanding debts. Surely his creditors had a better motive than Liam for killing John Henry in a fit of passion—but that in and of itself bothered her. How did the police find out so much about John Henry in such a short period of time? And how would these phantom creditors know John Henry was hiding behind the curtain? They would dump him in a river or blow up his car, wouldn’t they? Breaking into an earl’s estate, stabbing a man with a poker, and then sneaking back in to hide the body just did not seem consistent with fringe-of-society killers. Liam, on the other hand, knew the house, he knew the people in it, he was angry with John Henry, and he knew where to find a deadly fireplace poker.
But why would Liam kill John Henry if John Henry was going to tell him the truth?
Maybe Liam hadn’t received this note at all. What if it had been intercepted and that person then took matters into their own hands and killed John Henry before he could turn on his co-conspirators?
It was Grant who had sent Mrs. Land away, Grant who hadn’t been on hand when they found the body, Grant who managed the house and the people in it, and Grant who warned Sadie away from talking to the other staff. And the note was in Grant’s room. If a conspiracy was afoot, it seemed ridiculously naïve to imagine that Grant wouldn’t be right in the middle of it.
At that moment, Sadie’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket, nearly sending her through the roof. Still trying to catch her breath, Sadie pulled her phone from her pocket and flipped it open.
It was a text message from Breanna.
Where r u?
She imagined Breanna’s reaction to the answer that she was in Grant’s bedroom holding a note that could very well implicate either Liam or Grant in John Henry’s murder. She didn’t answer the text and instead closed the phone, shoving it into her pocket along with the note. She had to get out of here.
Once again she put her hand on the knob and slowly pulled the door open. Offering a silent prayer, she carefully stuck her head out of the doorway. Realizing it was clear, she stepped out and pulled the door shut. She could breathe again, but was faced with a decision—did she continue on to Austin’s room as had been her original goal, or did she go back to her room and review what she’d just discovered.
“Hey!”
Sadie froze with one foot in the air, preparing to take a step. Maybe the unfamiliar voice wasn’t talking to her.
“Hey,” the voice said again. Sadie turned her head, her eyes stopping on a large gray-haired woman standing several feet away. The woman put her plump hands on her plump hips and stared at Sadie through half-moon glasses that rested on her plump nose. “Whatcha doin’ down here?” she asked. “And who are ya?”
She hadn’t asked what Sadie was doing in Grant’s room, so Sadie forced herself to look a bit more relaxed as she turned to face the woman, assuming she hadn’t been there long enough to see where Sadie had come from. Hopefully the dim light of the hallway hid the guilty fear on her face. “I’m S-Sadie Hoffmiller,” she said. “I was, well, I’m looking for, uh—I’m lost.”
“Darn right yer lost,” the woman said. Some of the anger seemed to have left her tone, but Sadie didn’t dare trust it completely. The woman continued. “There ain’t any common rooms on the bottom level.” Then she cocked her head to the side. “Wait, ain’t you the woman that made up them hideous crumpets?”
Sadie realized this must be Mrs. Kinsley, the new cook, but having her ego pummeled after everything else that had happened was not a welcome turn to the conversation. “I was only trying to help.”
“Right,” the woman said with a nod. “Lord Melcalfe warned me you might try to worm yerself into my kitchen.”
“I’m not trying to worm my way into the kitchen,” Sadie said, not liking that she’d been the subject of gossip. “I’m just lost.”
Mrs. Kinsley regarded her thoughtfully. “You want anything special for your meals?” she asked bluntly, surprising Sadie. “I told Lord Melcalfe that there ain’t no way I can prepare proper meals on such short notice, but my daughter’s b
ringing up some things from the shop and there’s the fixin’s for a perfect plowman’s lunch in the fridge.”
“Plowman’s lunch?” Sadie asked.
Mrs. Kinsley shrugged one shoulder. “Bread, chutney, cheese, and a pickle on the side—fill you up right good. Though it’s nothing like the fancy stuff Mrs. Land has been shipping in this place.” She huffed, showing her obvious disapproval. Sadie couldn’t agree more.
“I’ll take filling over fancy any day,” Sadie said, daring a smile. She remembered her earlier thoughts about Mrs. Kinsley possibly being able to provide Sadie some information, but it was hard to not run away from the imposing woman. “So, you knew Mrs. Land?”
Mrs. Kinsley’s eyes narrowed slightly and it was all Sadie could do not to cower. “They wanted to pass her off as a cook—downright embarassin’ if you ask me. When she tried to tell me what to do in my own kitchen, I’d had enough. My daughter told me I had a job in her shop anytime I wanted it—and what with the earl doin’ poorly and a maid acting as a cook, it seemed as good a time as any.”
“So you left after the earl got sick?”
Mrs. Kinsley nodded. “What with Mrs. Land coming down to the kitchen and the earl’s lady friend coming to take the place over any time, it just felt like too many changes for me to figure. After the earl’s stroke I didn’t have much reason to stay.”
“Lady friend?” Sadie asked.
“Sure, who do you think he was fixing the countess’s bedroom for?”
Chapter 32
~
Countess’s bedroom? Sadie repeated in her mind. A door opening further down the hall seemed to make Mrs. Kinsley realize she had other things to do.
“Well, you best get back on up where you’re supposed to be. I need to get back to the kitchen—seems everyone’s intent that we leave by noon, even though I just got here. I’ve got lots to do before then and my daughter will be here soon.”
Mrs. Kinsley shook her head, then turned and disappeared before Sadie could even find her voice again. Remembering the door they’d heard open, Sadie found herself hurrying to the west stairs. She was halfway up the stairs before realizing that she’d apparently decided to leave Austin’s room for later. At the landing for the main floor, Sadie turned on the light so she didn’t trip as she ascended to the top level, but she still scanned the hallway before letting herself out of the doorway and then into her room, prepared to find Breanna waiting for her. However, the room was empty. At first she was relieved, then realized that if Breanna wasn’t here, she was probably with Liam.
She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and replied to the text Breanna had sent—it felt as though it took her five minutes. She was the slowest text messager on the planet.
I’m in the room—we need to talk.
She hit send and then tapped her foot while waiting for an answer. She rubbed a hand over her forehead as she considered what to do. Breanna texted her back, causing the phone to vibrate—startling her again. Her nerves weren’t up for this.
I’ll come when I can.
Sadie clenched her teeth in frustration. Should she demand Breanna return right now? Should she go hunt her down?
Those questions forced her to ask herself if she really thought Liam would hurt her daughter. She clenched her eyes shut and worked hard to push through everything else in order to focus on one thing—did Liam love Breanna?
It took only remembering his face when he looked at Breanna, especially after she’d told him they had no future together, to know that Liam would never do anything to hurt Breanna.
It was a comfort to have an answer to something. She would wait for Breanna—and while she waited, she’d get back to work. Before she got started, though, she changed the settings on her phone so that Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called to Say I Love You” would play whenever she got a call or text—no more of those blasted vibrations that sent her blood pressure to the moon.
That taken care of, Sadie pulled the note from her pocket. She read it one more time even though she doubted there was anything else she could learn from it at this point. Then she pulled Grant’s letter out of her back pocket, still feeling a teensy bit guilty for taking it, but willing to live with it if it provided her more answers. She pulled a single piece of paper out of the envelope, sincerely hoping it wouldn’t turn out to be something lame like a bill.
She unfolded the paper onto the dresser top and smoothed it flat before she started reading.
Dear Grant,
Well, another week has come and gone and I’ve been given my weekly piece of paper. I realized as I sat down to start this letter that you’re the only person who wants to hear from me. For a minute it made me sad—and then I was reminded of the things they’ve talked about in our group sessions, that every person is priceless. And you are priceless to me. We’re having a big Christmas dinner tomorrow and it will be the first Christmas in almost a decade I’ve spent without you and at least a dozen glasses of eggnog. I’m not looking forward to it and wish I could sleep through the whole thing, but I know that’s a big part of my problems—I’ve wanted to sleep through too many things in my life. Sobriety often feels like I’m the forward in a brutal game of rugby, destined to be run over at any moment. But snoozing in the stands doesn’t win a game now, does it?
From your last letter it sounds like things at Southgate are the same as they’ve always been. It’s weird being surrounded by so many lords and ladies here, but proof that not a one of us lives a life free of struggle, eh?
Anyways, I best wrap this up. Remember that I love you, that I can’t wait for the day I return to my post and we’re together again. You won’t get this ’til after Boxing Day at least, but I hope you had a happy Christmas. Next year will be different—better. I promise. I’m looking forward to seeing you next week—it will be the perfect start to a new year.
Love,
Your Essie
When Sadie finished reading she was a bit disappointed to realize that if she’d learned anything, it was to feel a measure of sympathy toward Grant. Though the details were hazy, and she didn’t know exactly what the letter meant, she’d gleaned enough to know that this Essie person was important to Grant and that they were apart. She guessed that Essie was in some kind of rehab center, since she’d talked about sobriety and group therapy. Unfortunately there was nothing about the earl’s lady friend or a potential motive for murdering John Henry, or even something horrible about Austin she could take to the investigator.
Then again, maybe she’d learned a great deal more than that. Like Mrs. Land, Grant had someone he loved who was in trouble. Was it too far-fetched to assume that Essie could have been used against Grant the same way Rupert had bought Mrs. Land’s participation? Assuming that Sadie was assuming correctly—which of course she thought she was—just how far would Grant go? Mrs. Land had been a sentence away from cracking—Grant knew it and sent her to London. John Henry had asked Liam to meet him in the sitting room and although Liam’s knowledge of that request was unknown—Grant was the one in possession of the note. And so Grant knew John Henry would be waiting for Liam during the time the final tea was being prepared. And what about this “lady friend”? And the countess’s bedroom? And where did Lacy fit in? What was everyone trying to hide?
“Wait,” she said out loud, forcing her thoughts to take a pause. There was too much in her head, too many directions she needed to pursue. What she needed was a list so she could put it all out there and work through the questions one by one.
She went to the bedside table and opened the drawer for the notebook. It wasn’t there. Thinking she may have put it somewhere else, she looked in the other bedside table drawer on Breanna’s side—nothing. Then she checked her suitcase, Breanna’s backpack, and the drawers of the dresser. When she’d looked everywhere twice, she officially began to panic. She grabbed her phone to text Breanna again, nearly cursing at how slow she was—she really needed to take a class or something.
Do u have the noteb
ook?
While she waited for an answer, she looked everywhere for a third time—just in case.
Stevie Wonder signaled an answer to her text and she hurried back to the bed and picked up her phone.
No, y?
Chapter 33
~
Sadie swallowed hard as she looked around the room one last time. Someone had taken the notebook. She tried to remember everything they’d written down, but had to give up when she realized the notebook simply had everything.
She sat down hard on the bed, letting out a breath. Why hadn’t she anticipated that someone could take the notebook? She should have hidden it somewhere—in the toilet tank or under the mattress or in between layers of her underwear—somewhere no one would ever look. And now she’d lost everything because she assumed no one would care what little discoveries she might write down.
She sat up straighter—didn’t the fact that someone felt the notebook was valuable enough to steal in fact verify its value? She sat there for a full minute, trying to decide what to do and who to suspect of taking the notebook. Finally, she had to accept that she could either pine and worry about the book, or she could get back to work. It was nearly ten-thirty, which meant the staff would be leaving in a matter of hours.
With no time to waste, she went to her suitcase and pulled out the half-sheet pad of paper and the other ballpoint pen she’d brought—and Breanna had called her neurotic for over-packing. Ha!
She started writing down everything she remembered—but this time she organized it by dedicating one page to each person involved. She had a page for Liam, a page for Grant, Austin, and Mrs. Land. When she finished, she read over what she’d written, asking herself if she’d missed anything. The final page listed the information about Mrs. Land. Sadie studied it harder than the rest because Mrs. Land was the one person no longer available to be questioned. Had Sadie missed anything in their conversation, anything at all?
English Trifle Page 21
