by Beth Byers
They were all speaking low because of the baby, and both Eunice and Georgie were keeping a close eye on Janey, who was prone to trouble in the same way that Georgette—at the same age—had been.
Georgette continued, “What if you were to ask for something from that housekeeper?”
“Betty Witham is not a woman I would borrow anything from.” Eunice knew her expression was sour, but she couldn’t help it. The arrogant woman was so irritating Eunice had been known to dive around a corner in the village to avoid speaking with her.
“Then, lie. Is she a closed-mouth woman? Or, will there be an opportunity for gossip?”
“Gossip,” Eunice said with a scrunched nose. She didn’t mind a good gossip, but she preferred for that gossip to come from someone she liked a little better. It was the self-congratulatory type of gossip where it was mostly side comments about her own importance and the importance of her family.
Eunice had met Betty and remained friendly in the way where she waved at the woman and then thought dark thoughts while keeping the semi-smile pasted on her face. Eunice glanced at Georgette, noticed Wentworth was calm and knew Georgette wouldn’t be able to interfere on her own. Wentworth needed Georgette to remain home, and Georgette might half-consider taking the baby if it would protect Eddy. The key to moments like this with Georgette, is to get her the information she’d get herself.
Eunice frowned and sighed. “Come, Janey. We’re going to go ask them about where to pick wild berries. Grab a basket and a bottle of dandelion wine. It’ll be an excuse to linger for a gossip and we’ll have to complain strenuously about Mrs. Georgie and Mr. Aaron.”
Janey jumped up, bouncing on her toes. Georgette started to object but Eunice shook her head.
“Better to keep her with me than let her run wild on her own. The next thing we know, she’ll try hanging herself to see how it’s done or attempt to follow those schoolboys to learn what else they might be up to.”
“I wouldn’t,” Janey shot out and then snapped her mouth shut. The way she avoided their gazes seemed to indicate that Eunice had just given Janey a great idea.
“Be good and do not leave Eunice. Do not go off on your own. Do not make us regret letting you sleuth.” Georgie eyed Wentworth and then Janey, finally moving her gaze to Eunice. The conflict was clear to see. Eunice didn’t blame Georgie. They were both probably considering tying Janey to them until this was over.
“It’ll be fine,” Eunice said, hoping it was true. Georgie winced at the limp assurance.
“It’ll be fine,” Janey crowed, bouncing on her toes, and then leaping to run to the cellar. They could hear her clatter through the house, and Eunice wouldn’t be surprised to hear the crash of bottles.
“It’s like there are elephants living here,” Georgette told Eunice.
“Who knew we’d like it so much?” Eunice asked. She approached Wentworth and caressed the baby’s back. “Before, when it was just you and I, it was easier in a lot of ways. But it was lonelier too, Miss—Mrs. Georgie.”
Georgette reached out and took Eunice’s hand. They squeezed each other lightly and then Georgette said, “Thank you. I know you don’t want to do this.”
“They may not know about the boy yet at the Bayles house. If so…” Eunice grinned evilly. “It’ll be interesting to see what is said about those boys before Betty realizes she needs to pretend to mourn.”
Janey returned and a moment later Eunice dragged the girl out of the house with ringing orders.
“We’re gonna get her a bit saucy,” Eunice told Janey once Georgette was no longer listening, “then I will ask a bit about the boys. It’s possible they won’t know why we’re there yet, and we’ll have time to get details before they realize why we’re snooping.”
“If they don’t know,” Janey said brightly, “we might even get more information out of them. If we’re there when they find out he’s dead, then we’ll see their reaction. So you need to keep that woman busy until Constable Rogers finally arrives.”
Eunice lifted a brow at that, but she didn’t argue. Their Janey was diabolical. If the girl was released on the world unfettered, she may well remake it.
They were moving quickly up the lane but stepped aside for a black auto containing a man Eunice knew who had been a medic during the Great War. She had never been to the lake, but she was assuming the closest auto route was the end of this lane with a long walk down a trail and through a wood.
Janey watched the fellow pass as well and sighed wistfully. “It would be better if Dr. West was here. That fellow won’t tell us anything.”
“Dr. West doesn’t tell you anything, does he?”
Janey frowned and then admitted, “Well no. But he doesn’t mind when I linger around, and he doesn’t realize how much he says when he thinks I’m not listening.”
Eunice almost groaned, but she stifled it. Part of her wanted to box the girl’s ears. The other part thought it would be better to let Dr. West know on the sly and let the girl think she had a place to eavesdrop, so she wasn’t off getting in worse trouble.
“Keep up,” Eunice said as she sped down the lane to avoid commenting on Janey’s mischief.
If there were a wealthier part of Harper’s Hollow, it was where Georgie and Charles had purchased their rundown mansion. The neighbors next door to Georgette and Charles were lovely. The Mustlys kept a lovely yard, they were kind, could be counted on for a cup of sugar or request to keep an eye on Janey. They were wholesome and reliable and they’d once saved Georgette’s life.
The same could not be said of the Bayles family, whose home was at the end of the lane, up a curving drive, and hidden in the trees. Eunice had heard the Bayles owed a good amount of money to the businesses in the village, but their debt didn’t stop them from continuing to order as though money were pouring into their coffers. At what point did the struggling baker cut off the powerful Bayles family? Or did the baker provide the food for free and eat the day-old bread himself?
Eunice didn’t like choices that made others suffer. She didn’t hold with debts in general. When she and Georgette were struggling to survive, they’d kept their own garden, reused their tea leaves, and wore ancient and faded clothes. If they couldn’t afford something, they hadn’t purchased it.
8
Janey Thorpe
Eunice had weaseled their way into the house, and the look on her face was agonized when Janey slipped away. Janey had little doubt she’d be in trouble later, and she could see Eunice calculating whether to call her back or not, but decided not to.
The housekeepers would gossip more viciously without the ear of a child around. Janey’s gaze narrowed at the idea of herself as a child. She supposed she must admit that she was still growing, but from what she could see, becoming an adult didn’t turn you into a responsible human.
Technically, her sister Lucy was grown, and Janey couldn’t think of anything more dumb than eloping. Dr. West wasn’t the worst choice for marriage; Janey even liked him. But Lucy was diving into the same life their mother had led. The life their grandmother had led. The life that nearly every woman they knew had led. Why didn’t Lucy want something different?
Janey shook her head and then snuck her head around a corner before blithely stepping forward when the way was clear. The constables hadn’t arrived and Janey noted the parlor ahead. She heard the sound of voices and smiled evilly. They weren’t trying to be quiet, so rather than finding a glass and eavesdropping that way, she simply opened the small cabinet right outside of the parlor and curled herself onto the bottom shelf.
She knew she was lucky the cabinet was empty, but her guess had been that it would be given the decorative nature of the cabinet. Someone had painted a rather fanciful octopus across the two doors, and Janey would have loved to have that in the room she shared with Lucy. A moment later, Janey realized she would have her own room now. What was surprising was that the idea made her ineffably sad.
She focused on the words of the argument rather than f
ocusing on her sadness.
“..ible. His mother won’t…”
Janey didn’t hear the next bit, but she could tell that the speaker had adjusted their speech to a low, mean hiss.
“Mother,” the second voice snapped, not bothering to lower his voice or adjust his tone. “Alanson is a grown man, and he—”
“Grown?” The astonished laugh had Janey wincing for the male voice. “Grown? Given that he’s a few months older than you, I hardly think so. Do you pay your own bills? Do you cover your tuition? Do you…”
“Do you?” the male voice snapped back. “I’ve seen those notices you get. Grandfather covers my tuition. You are a few months from losing this house.”
Janey gaped inside of the cabinet. She didn’t make a sound since she’d been practicing hiding in quiet spots and listening. She was used to slipping into a cabinet, behind curtains, under a desk, and once even laying across the top of a bookshelf.
“How dare you? Guy, you are an ungrateful, arrogant beast.” The woman’s voice had changed from a cruel hiss to a wail and Janey rolled her eyes. This must be Mrs. Bayles, and Janey’s preformed opinion about the woman hadn’t shifted in the least. Janey would have bet that Mrs. Bayles’s wails were all an act intended to manipulate. Janey thought that using tears to get what you wanted was disgusting.
“Oh please, Mother,” Guy said meanly. “Justin Alanson has gone home. Write a quick note to his mother and apologize that he decided to leave. It’s not like you can afford to interact with them anyway.”
“Guy!” Mrs. Bayles screeched. “Justin Alanson is a good connection. If you want to focus on the truth, your father and I aren’t going to be able to help you get a good position. Your grandfather won’t do that either. You need well-connected friends for a good position, or you’ll be living in the streets. If you think your father and I are going to put up with your treatment and disgust, you are very wrong.”
“I have well-connected friends,” Guy said.
“From families in as much debt as ours?” Mrs. Bayles asked meanly. “From that scholarship child? From the teachers you’ve alienated with your arrogance and cheating? Please, Guy, please.” It wasn’t begging from Mrs. Bayles, it was unfettered mockery.
Whatever Guy Bayles said in reply was low and mean and Janey wanted to scold him too for leaving her out of the rest of the argument. There was a slamming door and then a loud sound of crying that no one responded to. Janey listened to the sound of stomping feet and then heard mocking male voices. The sound was followed by the tromping of the herd of male voices leaving out of the back of the house.
Janey frowned and considered. Mrs. Bayles seemed to be winding up to a good long cry despite the fact that her audience had left. Why? Could she actually be that upset? Janey wasn’t sure she was a good judge of other females and then she wondered if, perhaps, there was an audience. Did Mr. Bayles have a position like Charles did?
If he didn’t…Janey thought back to the hallway she’d followed from the kitchen. There had been a few closed doors that Janey ignored. Given the layout of the house, Janey guessed those doors were probably a bath, an office for Mr. Bayles, and perhaps either a library or a billiards room.
She decided to avoid that area and slowly pushed the cabinet door open a crack. To her shock, she saw a girl just younger than Lucy who was idly sweeping the hall. Given the look on the girl’s face, she had been eavesdropping as well. Janey shot the girl a dark look and a loud thought to leave, but she lazily reached out with the broom and slowly dragged it back towards herself.
The shock of the girl being there made Janey miss the end of the tears and she leapt as high as the maid when Mrs. Bayles snapped, “Molly Jenkins, I thought I told you that I had enough of your eavesdropping.”
“Mrs. Witham told me to sweep the hall, ma’am,” the girl said, unconcerned by Mrs. Bayles’s anger.
“If you think that I’ll continue to put up with your insolence, you are very wrong, girl.”
The girl smiled slowly and said, “This is my last week, ma’am. My cousin got me a position in a factory in Leeds.”
“What?” Mrs. Bayles’s gasp was furious. “How dare you, girl? You’ll not be getting a reference from me.”
“I’ve already got the position, Mrs. Bayles,” Molly replied easily. “They pay more than three times the amount you do, ma’am.”
“What?” Mrs. Bayles’s shock had Janey grinning just as much as the servant.
“And they’re not late with their pay,” Molly slid in with a dark look.
“Why you ungrateful brat,” Mrs. Bayles said.
She reached out towards Molly with mean hands and Molly shoved the broom at her, “In fact, today is my last day.”
“You can’t leave yet,” Mrs. Bayles screeched. “We still have that pack of boys.”
Molly shrugged insolently and then bypassed Mrs. Bayles, letting herself out the front door. The act was overtly slow and the backwards glance was so obvious that Janey guessed Molly had planned the entire moment. Janey bit down hard on her bottom lip to hold in her laugh and then she saw Mrs. Bayles slam into the room Janey thought might be a library or office.
“Are you just going to leave this all to me?” she demanded. Her voice wasn’t quite as shrill or quite as rude as it had been with Molly and Guy, but it was clear that Mrs. Bayles barely saw the point of holding back her fury on her husband.
“The boy is gone already, Mildred,” an exhausted voice answered. Perhaps he wasn’t exhausted, Janey thought a moment later, perhaps he was just bored.
“We have worked for years to encourage that friendship,” Mrs. Bayles snapped. “Inviting that boy on vacation. Pretending we were interested in how he was doing, and they just throw it all away last year. I don’t know why we bother with trying to help Guy. He doesn’t want to be helped.”
“Because he’s our son?” The reply was almost muffled and Janey changed her guess from exhausted to exasperated.
“He’s an ungrateful dolt.”
“He’s your future,” the man replied without sympathy. “You know I won’t outlive you. There’s no money for you after I’m gone. Neither your sister nor your daughter will give you a home. You’ve driven both of them to hating you, so you should quit alienating Guy. Maybe try getting him to marry a rich girl and then you can try to convince the poor girl that you’re her friend. You’ll have to find a dim, sweet, rich girl.”
Janey missed Mrs. Bayles’s reply because she decided it was time to escape the cabinet. Mrs. Bayles sounded as though she were winding up for a good tirade, and Janey had a lot to consider. She didn’t think that she’d overhear all that much more. But she thought it was interesting they thought Justin Alanson had simply gone home. He, of course, must be the dead boy if he was the only one missing.
No one knew he was dead yet and that Guy fellow was saying he’d gone. Had the dead boy left a note? Or had he told someone he was leaving and then he was murdered afterward? Janey knew the idea that was striking her was dangerous. Surely the guest room that had been assigned to Justin Alanson was just up the stairs. Slowly Janey crept toward the stairs.
The argument between Mr. and Mrs. Bayles continued and Janey had to hope there weren’t any other maids in the house than the one who had just left. Janey slipped off her shoes, hurried up the stairs, and then looked into the bedrooms.
This mansion was similar to Georgette and Charles’s. There was a master suite with two bedrooms and the next floor up there were four more bedrooms. It was on the next floor that Janey found the sign of one son who had a room crowded with things that declared it a personal bedroom as compared to a guest room. The rooms across the hall were both occupied. One, however, had the bags of two other boys.
The second room had the signs of just one boy. Janey guessed that the room with just one occupant was where the dead boy had stayed. She slipped inside, shut the door behind herself, and put her hands on her hips. The wardrobe hung open with clothes that were shoved to one side. He
r gaze narrowed and then she scanned the room.
Janey was unlike other girls. She did things like pick locks and learn the most likely places to hide things. Constable Rogers and the other local officers hadn’t thought anything of discussing where to search for things in front of Janey.
Rogers had been giving his men orders and Janey had been listening carefully while twirling a braid around her finger as she stared towards some flowers. When Rogers finally noticed Janey, she asked him if he preferred bluebells or daisies, and he answered absently and ignored her. He hadn’t even realized that neither of those flowers were the ones she’d supposedly been staring at.
That was why Janey crossed the room and looked under the bed, glancing up to see if anything was hidden in the bed frame and then she pulled back. The other side of the bed was mussed and the side she was examining had not been.
Did that mean the boy had been hanged on that island, alone, all night? Janey shuddered at the idea and felt certain there was a very new and angry ghost at Siren Lake. Janey lifted the mattress and wasn’t even surprised to find a leather wallet that had been wrapped several times with a cord. She opened the wallet quickly and found papers and money for the dead boy who had supposedly left. She knew he hadn’t left, but now she was sure he hadn’t left the house on his own and then been murdered afterward.
No boy would leave without his money. The fact that he’d needed to hide his wallet was shocking in and of itself. She wouldn’t have needed to hide her funds and papers from her friends.
She quickly pulled out the folded papers that had been shoved into the wallet and glanced them over. One read:
Keep Quiet
Janey shuddered. The ‘or else’ had never been more obvious considering the recipient had been killed. Janey opened the next paper and found an old newspaper with smudged print. She pulled a small notebook out of her too-small pocket and took quick notes. What she read was even more disturbing than the previous note, but Janey wrote down names, dates, and a recap of the article and then kept reading.
