“Let me go through it, too, will you?” Amy asked. “I mean, after you’ve gotten everything you need.”
“Of course.”
A book? Perhaps that’s why Matthew had removed the files from the mayor’s office.
Caramel, with a freshly sprayed tan, blonder hair, and higher heels than the last time Jane had seen her, descended the stairs and sauntered into the living room, her full lips pouting. Amy stood and gave her a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m making it.”
“Caramel.” Matthew offered his hand.
Caramel smiled sadly. “Matthew,” she drawled. She ignored his hand and gave him a hug. In her heels, she was several inches taller than him. “When did you make it in?” She lingered at his side, with her arm around his waist.
“Last night. I left the school as soon as I could get away.” He patted her hand, and slipped out of her embrace.
“Alexandra.” Caramel held out her hand.
Alexandra took it. She wrapped it in both of her hands. “Oh, child.” Her voice broke, and she turned away.
Caramel sighed. “Can I get you anything?”
Alexandra waved her hand. “No, I can’t stay. I brought the things you asked for. I really don’t want them back.”
“Of course.” Caramel shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Don’t worry about it, Care. Matthew and I will take care of whatever you don’t need.”
Caramel swept her glossy hair out of her eyes. “Yes, thank you.” Caramel helped herself to a cup of coffee. She turned toward the kitchen.
Jane stepped to the side, trying to keep out of eyesight.
Matthew picked up a white leather handbag. “Mom, are you ready?”
Alexandra gave her daughter a side hug.
“We’ll see you at the funeral.” Caramel gave Matthew another long embrace. From Jane’s limited view, he looked like he was squirming to get away.
20
When Matthew and Alexandra were gone, Caramel sat down. “Don’t let the maid leave when you are done with her.”
“She just brought over my laundry and stayed for a minute to help,” Amy said with a tinny laugh.
“Well, I need her, so tell her to stay.” Caramel sipped her coffee.
Amy sighed. “Of course.”
She went straight to the kitchen. “I don’t know what’s on Caramel’s mind, but she doesn’t look well to me. She wants you to stay and help her with something. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I don’t mind staying.” Jane rinsed out the coffee mugs Amy had brought in with her. She especially didn’t mind staying if it meant she could check out what Amy was hiding in her bedroom.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Amy chewed on her bottom lip. “Being a support to Caramel is all well and good in theory, but the woman is going to drive me mad.”
Jane smiled and nodded, trying to hide her excitement. How much better to sneak around in the bedroom upstairs while Amy was gone.
“I can’t guess what Caramel is going to ask of you, or when, so I suggest you sit back and make yourself comfortable.” Amy pressed both of her hands on the marble counter and took a deep breath. “Best of luck to you.”
“I don’t mind, honest.”
Amy left through the back door.
After about fifteen minutes of waiting in the kitchen, Caramel called for Jane. She was in the basement hall, near the garage.
“Jane, come help me with these boxes.” Caramel stood in front of a short stack of cardboard moving boxes. “Stack them on the back seat of the golf cart.”
Jane looked through the open door to the garage, no golf cart.
“It’s by the back door.”
Of course. The sliding door to the hot tub room. Jane hefted two boxes. They were small, but heavy.
“Douglas’s law books. We’re going to drive them down to the storage. His son can come get them later.”
“You don’t want them anymore?” Jane made her way to the stairs, but kept her face toward Caramel.
“They went to Matthew in the will, so it doesn’t matter if I want them.” There was an abused tone to Caramel’s voice. Not so much grief as… exhaustion? Yes, Caramel sounded tired. Caramel lifted two boxes. “When he is ready to collect his things, every item listed under his name will be waiting in the shed.” She pushed her way past Jane, and went down the stairs.
It only took two trips to the golf cart to get all of the boxes.
“Come on down with me.” Caramel climbed into the driver’s seat of the cart.
Jane got in next to her.
The little cart putted its way down the perfectly manicured lawn. About half way to the sheds Caramel stopped. She turned to Jane, her eyes narrowed.
“He would not have left me for the maid.”
“Of course not.” Jane tilted her head in sympathy. “He loved you.”
“Ladies may have been his hobby.” Caramel held the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. “But I was his passion. From the day he met me, I was his passion.”
“Of course.” Jane tried to think of something comforting to add. “I’m sure everyone knew you were his true love.”
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 officer 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 my 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.
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?
Dirty Little Murder: A Plain Jane Mystery (The Plain Jane Mysteries Book 2) Page 15
