“Ross Alexander’s mother hired us? Burglary? Oh no.” Lauren looked up at her boss.
“This case, like all our cases, is completely confidential. So far, only our office and Helen know anything about it. Obviously, this is a very delicate matter, especially so because of the timing. It’s really the last thing we need to be dealing with right now, but at the same time, it gives us a unique opportunity to observe the staff.” Lauren stared at her blankly for two beats.
“Oh, right. That’s very…cool. So I’ll be able to help scope things out for you,” she said, her eyes bright with the prospect.
“Well, not really. I need you to make sure everything goes off without a hiccup so Mike and I can do our jobs.”
“Mike’s going to be there?” Lauren asked, taken aback by the news. Oops, Madeline thought; she didn’t want Lauren to know the real reason behind Mike’s presence at the party.
“Yes, he’ll be undercover as a waiter—” Lauren started laughing before Madeline could finish the sentence. “You’ve got to pretend you don’t know him. This is a very sensitive situation, especially with the parties involved. You understand?” Lauren wiped the smile off her face.
“Yes, I get it. Mum’s the word. I won’t say a thing to him.”
“Good. Did you read the email I sent you?”
“I did.”
“Any questions?” Lauren shook her head. “Okay. I have some more calls to make, then I’m going over to the house. I want to update Vivian before Cherie monopolizes my time.”
Madeline checked the list of names Sybil Wately had given her. She had one contact with a number; the other two she’d have to research. She made a note of the time before making the call. A woman answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hello, I’m trying to reach Susan Kellogg.”
“Who’s calling?” Mrs. Kellogg asked suspiciously. Madeline quickly dispelled the notion that she was a telemarketer. After giving her contact references and her bona fides, Madeline got to the point.
Luckily for her, Susan Kellogg remembered Teresa. She had hired the girl to care for her mother after she’d broken a hip. Unfortunately, the elderly woman’s health deteriorated after the surgery, but Susan credited Teresa with helping to keep her spirits up.
“She was a very pleasant, respectful young woman. We were all grateful to have found her.”
“And how did you find her?” Madeline asked.
“Actually, it was a bit of a fluke. We heard about her at a memorial service for a friend of my mother’s. I can’t remember the woman’s name…I’m sure it will come to me eventually. Anyway, Teresa was there with the family. Afterwards, we got to talking with the son and next thing I know Teresa had agreed to come work for us. It was very serendipitous, really.”
“I see. That was a bit of luck,” Madeline said, making a record of this detail while she spoke. “Do you happen to remember when she started working for you?”
“Well, let’s see…Mother died about a year and a half ago, so it was probably two years ago, late Spring 2011.”
“So, you didn’t go through an agency or do any kind of background check on her?”
“No, should I have?” Susan Kellogg asked with alarm.
“Oh no, I’m just asking for the sake of thoroughness. If you had gone through an agency or had someone look into her employment history, it would allow me to follow up on those sources.”
“I see.”
“One more question, if I may…and I’m sorry for the nature of this inquiry, but it’s standard in this type of background check.”
“Go ahead,” Susan said.
“At any time during Teresa’s employment, did anything go missing—any personal items of your mother’s or yours?”
“Oh heavens, not that I remember.”
“Well, thank you so much for your time. If you happen to think of the former employer’s name or anything else that might assist my inquiries, I’d be grateful if you’d give me a call.”
After giving Susan Kellogg her contact info, Madeline ended the call and took out her earbud. She hadn’t made as much progress as she’d hoped, but it was already 9:00 and she needed to get to the Alexander estate before Cherie started losing her grip again.
Four more days, she thought with dread as she collected her things. Though it was an odd thought, she realized she was looking forward to the time when she could devote herself to figuring out Lionel Usherwood’s next move. If he doesn’t kill me first, she thought solemnly.
ELEVEN
Madeline was halfway to Cherie’s when she spotted her tail. Now she understood why Mike hadn’t been around to insist on accompanying her. She pushed her Bluetooth button and called him on his cell phone.
“Your tracking skills could use some improvement,” she said.
“When did you figure out it was me in the Toyota? I thought a Prius was the most unassuming vehicle out there.”
“That might’ve been a wise choice if you didn’t look like a giraffe stuffed inside it.” To not crush his spirits altogether, she added, “I picked you out when you entered the roundabout behind me.”
“I knew I should’ve let another car go ahead of me, but I thought the honking behind me would get your attention for sure. At least I know you’re looking out for yourself.”
“I am. So you don’t need to waste your time shadowing my every move. What were you going to do, park on the shoulder on Sycamore Canyon and wait for me to leave? That would’ve been subtle.”
“No, I was going to text you to say you failed to make me and scold you for not being more careful,” Mike said.
“Okay, this is where I turn in and you buzz off,” Madeline said, slowing as she prepared to turn into the gated entry.
“I want you to give me a ten-minute heads up before you leave, okay? Promise me that, or I will camp out on the side of the road.”
“All right, I’ll call you,” Madeline said, reaching for the button to end the call.
“Promise me.” Madeline groaned as she lowered her window for the guard.
“I promise,” she said reluctantly. She watched her rearview mirror until Mike’s rental car crept past, then turned her attention to Max and the new guy standing behind him.
Looks like they’re already beefing up security, Madeline thought. She took a small degree of comfort from that. She just hoped it would give Lionel Usherwood second thoughts about seeking revenge while she was holed up in this fortress.
For everywhere else, she’d have to rely on Mike and whatever resources the FBI felt inclined to assign to her protection. If the thought of coming face to face with her captor wasn’t so frightening, she might’ve laughed. Instead, she sighed and steeled herself for another long day of babysitting the rich and famous.
Madeline’s hopes of sneaking off to visit Vivian first were dashed as soon as Alice let her in.
“You’d better go see Cherie right away,” Alice cautioned.
“What’s wrong now?”
Alice gave Madeline a meaningful look and leaned in closer. “She’s…not acting herself.”
This bulletin shed no light on the matter. In the twelve months since she was hired for this questionable affair, Madeline had seen so many mood swings, she wasn’t sure who the real Cherie Alexander was. “Can you be more specific?”
Before Alice could reply, Madeline got her answer. Both looked up to the top of the sweeping staircase, where their employer was standing in a lavishly sequined, silvery gown, cut above the knee in front and tapering to the ground in back.
Madeline and Alice regarded Cherie with open mouths as she pressed a button on her smartphone. Sultry, almost campy music blared out as Cherie descended the stairs, a scene easily borrowed from a 1950s musical.
“Ta da!” Cherie pronounced gleefully as she came to a halt on the second t
o the last step, the proper height for viewing the impossibly brilliant diamond necklace she was sporting.
“That must weigh over a pound,” Madeline said without thinking.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Cherie asked, lifting it off her chest for better viewing.
“It’s stunning,” Madeline agreed. “Is it real?”
“Of course it’s real!”
“Wow,” Madeline said, genuinely impressed now. A smile of relief spread across her face as she put the pieces together. “From Ross?” she asked excitedly. That kind of gesture would do a lot to bolster his wife’s fragile ego. She figured she got it wrong when Cherie’s expression lost most of its euphoria.
“No. It came this morning from Lamont et Fils. Isn’t it exquisite?”
“Absolutely. It’s a marvel. So, who’s the benefactor?”
Cherie stared at her blankly. “What?”
“Who’s it from?”
“I told you—Lamont et Fils.” Cherie studied Madeline for a moment. “It wasn’t a gift, if that’s what you think. It’s on loan—for the party.” The look she gave Madeline all but screamed DUH. “It’s a very common practice in the film business. You didn’t think all those stars actually own the stuff they wear, did you?”
“No, I understand that, but I didn’t connect it with you, for some reason…never mind. You look like a billion-dollar bombshell, regardless.” No matter how Madeline tried to reassure Cherie of her innate sense of style and glamor, the words fell flat. Cherie may not be a brain trust, but she knew when Madeline was being candid and when she was just giving lip service. Fortunately, Madeline was rescued by another delivery.
Alice came away from the front door balancing four distinctive Hot Couture boxes.
“Oh fabulous!” Cherie nearly squealed. “I love that company. I ordered four more dresses after you left yesterday, and voila! here they are.” Cherie took two boxes and gave one to her assistant and one to Madeline to carry upstairs.
“More dresses? I thought you had your wardrobe all sorted out yesterday,” Madeline said, her tone not nearly as gay as her client’s.
“Yes, that true,” Cherie said over her shoulder as she led the procession upstairs. “But then I had the most amazing inspiration.” She stopped her small entourage at the top of the staircase to deliver the big news.
“I started to see each of the three days in parts, because really that’s how it’s going to be. Like scene changes. So it hit me that I should make a costume change between cocktails and the performance, dinner and dancing.” Cherie looked to her two hired hands for kudos on her inspired showmanship.
“That’s a perfect idea!” Alice endorsed. She hoped to hang onto her job when this weekend-long gala was over, though there were times when she wondered how long she’d last.
“Don’t you think that will add a certain air of drama to the event?” Cherie asked Madeline.
“You’ve got a flair for drama like I’ve never seen,” Madeline said with all the sincerity she could muster.
“Okay, now I’m going to need both of you to help me figure out which dress goes best with what part of the program. Isn’t this exciting?” Cherie twittered as Alice and Madeline fell in behind her like doomed sheep being led to slaughter.
Two hours later, Madeline emerged from Cherie’s dressing room. She had a throbbing headache and no longer trusted herself to make wise business choices. Before Cherie could call her back on some flimsy pretext, Madeline went straight to Vivian’s rooms. The door was locked and no one answered when she knocked.
She headed down the back staircase to the first floor. From there, she decided to check out the solarium. Vivian and her companion were not there. Madeline was tempted to ask Helen if she knew their whereabouts, but she didn’t relish a run-in with the housekeeper just yet. She would want to know what Madeline had learned about Vivian’s companion, and Madeline wasn’t prepared to give out those details yet. Until Madeline was able to ascertain whether Teresa had stolen Vivian’s jewelry or not, she needed to make sure the girl didn’t get spooked and disappear. She certainly didn’t want her fired, not until she figured out her guilt or innocence.
She went out to the gardens and checked the area where she had encountered the actress the day before. Again, no luck. She was about to call Vivian’s cell phone on the off chance that she carried it with her, when she and the girl came walking up the path.
“Good morning, Miss Story,” Madeline said casually. “Actually, it’s already afternoon, isn’t it?” Madeline smiled brightly as if she hadn’t a single thing on her mind.
“I heard a rumor that you arrived a couple hours ago,” Vivian said.
“Yes. I was needed to help Cherie figure out her wardrobe changes.”
Vivian laughed. She didn’t even try to hide her amusement at her daughter-in-law’s caprices. “I don’t suppose she served you lunch while you were held captive in her boudoir?”
“No, and I’ve got a king-size headache to prove it.”
“Teresa, would you be a dear and tell Helen that Madeline will be joining us for lunch?”
“Yes, Miss Story. Let me help you to the bench first, then I will go.” Madeline watched Teresa escort her charge to the lion head bench. Once she was seated, Teresa wrapped the cashmere stole carefully around Vivian’s shoulders.
“I’ll be right back,” Teresa said cheerfully.
“Take your time, dear.” Vivian and Madeline watched Teresa until she was out of hearing range. Vivian got right down to business. “What have you found out?” she asked.
“Frustratingly little, other than Teresa used a false Social Security number and address on the W-4 she filled out for Helen.” Vivian took this news stoically, which made Madeline wonder if she had other reasons for suspecting Teresa was a thief.
“Could it just be that she’s moved since she filled out the form?”
Madeline shook her head. “She may have, but the address she gave doesn’t exist.” Madeline detected a sadness in Vivian’s eyes when she heard this. “I did speak to Sybil Wately and another woman who employed Teresa to take care of her mother. Susan Kellogg also ‘inherited’ Teresa after the death of a friend. So far, that makes a total of four women I know of who’ve had Teresa as a caregiver-slash-companion in the last two years, yourself included.”
Madeline decided to leave out the detail that the other three were no longer among the living, a coincidence that just registered. She didn’t like where this investigation was heading. She wondered at what point she would have to bring Vivian’s son into the loop. Because he was stuck on the set gave her conscience some wiggle room. Legally, she was answerable only to Vivian. Morally, though, she was torn.
“I see. Am I getting the vibe that you suspect a pattern here?” Vivian asked. Madeline wobbled her head noncommittally.
“It’s too early to tell. I’ve got two other leads to follow up on. In the meantime, I’m hoping I can manage to sneak out of here when Teresa is about to leave and offer her a ride home…” The corners of Vivian’s lips curved upward as she caught onto Madeline’s plan.
“I don’t know why not. At least you might find out where she really lives.” By Madeline’s silence, Vivian knew there was more that she wasn’t sharing. “What’s troubling you, dear?”
Madeline let out a sound that approximated a laugh. “My instinct is to ask her about the jewelry.” Vivian sat back, clearly pained by the thought. “I know you want your jewels back—that seems to be the highest priority right now. The question is how long do we act like nothing has gone missing? And how much time do we allow for the items to disappear on the black market? I realize you’re very attached to her, and we don’t know if she’s the culprit or not, but if I can approach it in a way that will give her an out and minimize the fear, it might be our best shot at either retrieving the stolen goods or eliminating her as a suspect.”
> Vivian let out a deep sigh. She had engaged Madeline to do both a background check and hopefully recover her favorite keepsakes. But now that it came down to acting on Madeline’s advice, she felt paralyzed by inertia.
“What you’ve said makes perfect sense, and I know I should let you act on your professional instincts…”
“But…?” Madeline coaxed.
“Could you please hold off on confronting her until this turgid weekend is over? I really don’t think I could survive it without her.”
Madeline nodded thoughtfully. Vivian was the client; she had no other choice but to do as she requested.
“I do like your idea of giving her a ride home, though. If nothing else, it will give us a starting point if she decides to bolt,” Vivian continued.
Madeline looked up in time to see Teresa exiting the house and coming their way. “Okay, that will be the plan. As soon as my assistant tracks down her other employers, I’ll see what I can learn about her past from them. Every little clue is important,” Madeline said, turning on a carefree smile as Teresa approached. Vivian returned her smile, but her eyes reflected her sadness.
TWELVE
The three women sat at a table in the solarium, enjoying the pasta with shrimp the cook had prepared for them. They had wanted to sit on the upper patio, but the gardening crew was working at full throttle to make sure every blade of grass, every flower and leaf was just so. Tomorrow, there would be a new onslaught of soldiers, working feverishly to prepare food, drink, floral arrangements and all the rest of it in the few short hours before show time.
The warmth of the solarium was making Madeline relaxed to the point of wanting to curl up and nap in the sun. She asked for and received an iced coffee to keep her from nodding off.
Vivian, on the other hand, was in her element. A cozy luncheon with two female companions set her mind back to happier days. She regaled her listeners with colorful stories from her illustrious past. Madeline made the appropriate remarks in all the right places, though her mind was swimming with all the duties and conflicts facing her. She tuned back into the conversation—or soliloquy, as it would be better described—just in time to interject some discreet probing.
Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay Page 8
