“What about that cabin in the woods?” asked Katy.
Mrs. Robinson turned to her with a start.
“The cabin?”
Chapter Nine
“The, er, shack in the woods,” Katy said. “A small cottage-like building, near the river. Does it belong to this estate?”
Mrs. Robinson’s face turned slightly dark.
“What were you girls doing out in the woods?”
There was something about that cabin she didn’t want us to know.
“Our tire blew on a pothole and we stopped to change it,” said Katy. “I slipped into the woods to take some pictures of the leaves when I saw it....”
“Saw what?”
Mrs. Robinson’s change in tone was so sharp, Tetyana glared.
“We didn’t go in,” said Katy, putting her hands up defensively, “but it looked like a cute little place. I just wondered who lives there.”
“No one,” snapped Mrs. Robinson. “It’s for lost hikers.”
“Is anyone staying there right now?” I asked.
“No.”
Mrs. Robinson’s sudden shift in demeanor was a surprise. I had started to warm up to her, but the more we spoke, the more I felt she was hiding something from us. Something big.
“Mrs. Robinson,” I said, “if you want our help, you have to tell us everything.”
“I’m telling you everything I know.” But she wasn’t making eye contact anymore.
“Is there anyone else who lives here, other than the son and the daughter?”
“Lisa hired a new couple last year because Sally and John left so suddenly. They have rooms on the third floor as well.”
“Who are Sally and John?”
“They worked with me for years.”
Mrs. Robinson looked up. She was back to her normal self again.
“Sally cooked and John took care of the grounds. Such a delightful couple. They were part of my housekeeping team. Then, suddenly, without saying goodbye, they got up and left. When I went up to see their room, it was cleaned out.”
“Wow,” said Katy. “Why would they leave like that?”
“I have no idea. It broke my heart. I thought of them as family.”
“Did you know them well?”
Mrs. Robinson wiped her face. She looked tired.
“You think you know someone, until you don’t, right?” she said.
You can say that again.
“And this new couple?” I asked. “Who are they?”
“It was the pastor who suggested Jim and Nancy come and help me with the house. I’m getting old and my bones have started to creak, so I was happy to have them. They seem nice enough, but they keep to themselves.”
“How long have they been here?”
“Since July.”
“You mentioned this pastor stays here every weekend,” I said. “Doesn’t he have his own home in Falcon Hills?”
“He does. He used to come all the time when Lisa and Barry were young. He was their private tutor, you see. He was just starting to teach back then. But recently, he started coming every weekend.” She paused for a moment. “Since Jim and Nancy moved in, come to think of it. He calls this place his retreat. Says he can think more clearly up in the mountains. Lisa and Barry don’t seem to mind.”
“A bit unusual, don’t you think?”
“The pastor’s been close to this family for years. He comes from a very prominent family in the area. They’ve been in this town for generations. Falcon Hill’s blue blood, you know. Everyone respects them.”
“What’s Barry like?” I said, more curious about Madame Bouchard’s children than the others.
Mrs. Robinson’s eyes screwed tight.
“You best stay steer clear of him, girls. I’ve never met a meaner man in my life. Stay away, especially after he’s had a drink or two in him.”
“Have you had any run-ins with him?” asked Katy.
“Everyone has had a run-in with that man. I make it a point to say ‘yes Barry’ and get out of his way quickly every time.”
“He sounds horrible,” said Katy.
“If I were him, I’d probably drink every day too.” Mrs. Robinson paused for a moment. “I feel sorry for him, if you ask me.”
“Has he ever threatened you in the past?” I asked, wondering how someone like Barry could arouse sympathy in anyone. But I kept that thought to myself.
“Tried to clip me in the ear once for taking a half-eaten plate from his room by mistake. This was a long time ago. I had just arrived here, and he was just a kid. He only tried that once though. I told him to never lay a finger on me and he never did.”
I looked over at Tetyana.
She was listening intently, but her eyes regularly darted across the room, scanning the windows and listening to any noise from the outside.
She raised an eyebrow when she saw me look her way.
Barry struck as being a man who’d happily write a death threat letter to his own caretaker lady, even if she was someone who’d lived with his family for decades.
“Did Madame Bouchard’s children ever marry?” asked Katy. “Do Lisa and Barry have spouses? Kids?”
Mrs. Robinson turned to Katy with a sad look.
“There was just one little girl.”
“Whose was she?” asked Katy.
“Lisa’s. She got pregnant at sixteen.”
Sixteen.
“Who was the father?” I asked.
Mrs. Robinson turned away.
“A kid that came from town to help John with the fencing, I think. He was here for a month and Lisa started showing five months later. Mister and Madame Bouchard got hysterical.”
“I can imagine,” I said.
“Their reputation was more important than anything else. Any scandal that would threaten their careers was dealt with harshly. Mister Bouchard said he’d send Lisa and the baby to someplace no one would find them, but I knew it was just raging words.”
“Were the parents here at that time?”
“They were in Paris. They never saw the baby or Lisa. They only knew about it because I called them. They were livid.”
“Did Lisa resent you for telling her parents about her teen pregnancy?”
“I helped her out, you see. Someone had to take care of the little girl.” Mrs. Robinson’s face crumpled like she was going to cry. “But then, they sent her away.”
“Sent who away?” asked Katy.
“The little girl.”
“Lisa’s daughter?” I asked gently.
“They committed Victoria to a mental institution. They said she wasn’t right. I always thought she was a smart girl, saner than anyone else in this house, but doctors know best, I guess.”
What a peculiar story.
“That girl must be twenty now? Thirty? Does she live here?”
“Twenty-nine. Victoria was only nine years old when they took her. No one talks about her anymore. No one even visits her at the asylum. It’s like she doesn’t exist.”
What a tragic family Madame Bouchard had. And we’d never known.
“This Barry guy,” said Katy, “did he ever marry?”
“Barry’s a loner. Always has been. Ever since he could, he took to the woods by his lone self and was always bringing in wounded stray animals. He was wild. Never got along with anyone or talked that much.”
“Did he have any friends?”
“None that I know of. There’s no love lost between that sister and brother, I can tell you that. They were always fighting and screaming at each other, and there was no parent to tell them to behave. Barry started drinking when he was fourteen. I saw him sneak out whiskey bottles from the drink cabinet. I don’t think he’s stopped drinking since then.”
“The parents never cared to ask about them?”
“They were hardly home, let alone in the country,” she replied. A grave look overcame her face. “I suspect they thought of their children as mistakes. They left them money and people to take care of
them, but Lisa and Barry grew up like orphans.”
“You never know, right?” said Katy, turning to me. “I thought Madame Bouchard’s kids were spoiled, high-society brats who drove fast cars and flew to parties in LA every weekend.”
“Those two hated their parents,” said Mrs. Robinson. “While Mister and Madame Bouchard were having dinner parties with presidents, their kids were swimming in the streams, hunting in the woods and running around like feral children. They never listened to us, no, sir. We were just help.”
I bit my tongue.
“Who do you think is sending you these anonymous letters?” I asked, steering the conversation back to this decade.
Mrs. Robinson shook her head and wiped her eyes.
“Could be anyone. I don’t know why they’d do something like this. I’ve been a good worker. I’ve taken care of everyone in this house. I’m a God-fearing Christian woman and I’ve hurt no one in my life.”
She looked up at me, her eyes pleading.
“Just make them stop. My old heart can’t take these nasty games no more.”
I reached out and put a hand on her arm to reassure her.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Mrs. Robinson. It’s unsettling and scary.” I paused. “But you need to tell us everything so we can find out who they are.”
“And stop them,” said Tetyana in a gruff voice. We turned to her.
“We didn’t come here to just learn who they are,” she said, “we came here to stop them from doing this.”
I nodded and turned back to Mrs. Robinson. “You said this house is full of secrets. What did you—”
A thundering roar reverberated throughout the house, stopping me in mid-sentence.
Katy jumped with a loud gasp.
Tetyana whipped around and stepped toward the door, her gun in her hand.
Chapter Ten
“Who the hell are you?”
I stared at the bulbous-nosed, red-faced man in the kitchen. He reminded me of some goons I’d met in my previous life.
I liked to think of myself as a strong-minded, independent, professional businesswoman. But for a brief moment, I felt like a scared lost girl again. Pangs of fear went through me as I watched this strange man rampage around Mrs. Robinson’s kitchen.
It was Barry all right.
He was in a foul mood. Three strangers rushing over and bursting into the kitchen, ignoring Mrs. Robinson’s calls for us to stop, hadn’t helped.
Barry fit the description of a lone, alcoholic, middle-aged bachelor with a nonexistent social life to a T.
His skin was pasty yellow, and his hair was prematurely turning gray. A thick bushy unibrow covered his eyes, so I wondered how he could see. A large beer belly protruded over his pants, which were kept up by a pair of red suspenders.
Barry stepped toward Mrs. Robinson, shaking a thick finger in her face.
“What the hell do you think you are doing, stupid woman?”
“I was only trying to help these girls out with their car trouble,” replied Mrs. Robinson, composed despite the man raging at her.
Our tire incident in the woods, however that had happened, was coming in handy now and I was happy to milk it for what it was worth. If it had been someone from this household who’d tried to stop us, they’d unknowingly given us a good excuse.
Barry stepped up to Mrs. Robinson with a nasty scowl. He leaned so close, his nose was inches away from hers.
What a bully.
The man’s eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils were small and pointy. I wondered how long he’d been drinking that day. If I had to guess, I’d have said he’d been drunk since he woke up.
That scared little girl inside of me wilted, and I felt my blood heating up.
“Didn’t I tell you the last time you let that lot of stinking lost hikers stay over?” he shouted, his spittle falling on Mrs. Robinson’s face. She didn’t even flinch. “I don’t want these street trash in my house!”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Katy, putting on her friendly smile. “If it puts your mind at ease, we manage a bakery in New York. We’re here on holiday. We’re not street tra—”
“Was I talking to you?” roared Barry, snapping his head my friend’s way. “If I wanted to chat with a floozy, I’d talk to you. But I didn’t, did I?”
Floozy?
Katy stepped back, stunned.
Barry turned back to Mrs. Robinson. He glared at her.
“I don’t know why we keep you, you old hag,” he said, his face contorted into a scowl. With an angry snarl, he raised his hand as if to hit her.
“Oi,” I said, stepping up and getting in between them. “Don’t you dare!”
Barry turned to me, his eyes bulging.
“You! If I had my way, I’d... I’d...”
“You’d do what, Mr. Bouchard?” said Tetyana. Her voice was calm, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in it.
He glowered at her, but I could see the hesitation in his eyes. He was a coward, and a coward chose their victims well.
“Mr. Bouchard,” I said, wrestling the fury bubbling inside of me. “There’s no need to shout at Mrs. Robinson. She’s only trying to help us. We’re running on an old spare tire which could give way on the road to town. This is an emergency, as you can see.”
“This is my house!” yelled Barry, poking a finger at me.
“It’s just for one night, Mr. Bouchard,” I said, crossing my fingers behind me. I needed time to solve the mystery of the poison pen letters. If twenty-four hours was all I had, I’d have to make do. “We’ll find a way to reciprocate to you.”
“It’s the Christian thing to do, Barry,” said Mrs. Robinson.
He whipped around to her.
“These stupid city folk come here and trample all over my mountain.”
“What do you think Pastor Graham would say if he found out we turned these girls back out into the woods tonight, with a storm coming and all?”
Barry pulled away at those words, glaring at her.
“The pastor would never say no, would he, now?” said Mrs. Robinson, her voice slightly smug.
The pastor, it seemed, had some power over Barry. After shooting another angry glare our way, Barry stomped out, grouching about “floozies and tramps.”
We stood wordlessly for a minute, waiting for the unpleasant taste that man had left in the room to dissipate.
“Goodness me, what a crazy man,” said Katy finally, letting out her breath.
“Now there’s a good suspect for the letter writer,” said Tetyana, turning to Mrs. Robinson. “You want me to make him confess?”
Mrs. Robinson shook her head.
“That man talks a big talk. Always shouting, always threatening. But that’s more bark than bite.”
“You don’t seem fazed by him,” I said.
“Give him another five minutes and you’ll find him snoring in the television room and he’ll have forgotten he even saw you.”
She turned to us, a determined look on her face.
“Stay the night, please. I have prepared a room for you upstairs. I want you to meet everyone tonight.”
“Is anyone else going to object to us staying here?” I asked.
“Lisa likes her privacy and doesn’t like strangers, but I doubt she’ll say anything. She’s a bright one, that one, but she keeps her thoughts to herself.” She paused and looked up thoughtfully. “Sometimes I don’t know which is worse, the one who’s always raging or the quiet one, right?”
“And this pastor?” I asked. “What’s he like?”
“Pastor Graham’s a guest here, so he won’t say anything. He’s always nice and polite, and everyone here has a lot of respect for him. Even Barry’s eager to please him.”
“What about the other staff? Won’t they get suspicious at us showing up?” asked Tetyana.
“They’re the least of my worries. They’re supposed to be working for me, but they take their instructions from Pastor Graham.”
“Pasto
r Graham?” I said. “I thought he was a guest.”
“I’m fine with that. They know their chores.”
“Where are they now?” asked Katy. “I’d expect to find your staff in the kitchen at this time of day.”
“Nancy’s taking a nap. Said she had a migraine and wanted to rest before supper. Her husband, Jim, went to the barn to check on the horses.”
Just as she said those words, the side door from the staff quarters creaked open. We all turned. A woman’s face poked through the door.
It was a younger woman, in her late twenties or early thirties. She was wearing blue pants, a white T-shirt, and a red turban with tassels tied over her hair.
She looked startled to see us.
“Come on in, Nancy,” said Mrs. Robinson, gesturing to her. “Hope you’re feeling better.”
The woman didn’t answer but kept staring at us. I wondered if she could speak.
“We have some lost visitors with car trouble,” continued Mrs. Robinson. “I think we have enough supper for three more mouths tonight, don’t we?”
Nancy entered the kitchen and walked toward the counter, her face a picture of suspicion. She didn’t return our hellos or come over to shake our hands, but regarded us unsmilingly from across the kitchen counter.
“How did you get here?” she asked.
“By the road,” I answered, wondering how else anyone would get up here. We weren’t dressed in hiking gear, so we obviously couldn’t have come through any mountain trail. Not at this time of night, anyway.
Her eyes narrowed. “So, you aren’t really lost then, are you?”
“We got a flat tire on our way to town. It was getting late and our spare isn’t great. Also, a severe storm is coming this way. Thought it best to drive to the nearest place we could find using our GPS.”
It wasn’t the whole truth, but it would have to do.
“Where are you from?”
Her voice was low and her words came out staccato fashion, like machine-gun fire.
“New York,” I said.
“What are you doing here?”
“The mountain air is fresh and so healthy,” said Katy, with a friendly smile. “Not like the Big Apple.” She let out a small laugh. “We just didn’t expect an adventure like this when we left the city.”
Merciless Legacy: Merciless Murder - A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series Page 5
