Dirty Little Murder (18 page)

“Mom, really. It’s not that bad. Caramel isn’t Matty’s type anyway.”

Jane held her tray up, standing to the side. She didn’t want to stop the most interesting flow of conversation she had just stumbled into.

Alexandra looked up at the picture of the blonde, tan, full-figured Caramel in her slinky wedding dress. “Really?” She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

“Matty has always preferred academic women.”

Matthew’s color rose until he was strawberry red. “My love life is no one’s business.” He stood up stiffly. “Mom, I can’t stay here all day. Let me go get the stuff for the funeral, okay?”

“Fine.” She sniffed, then reached for a mug from Jane’s tray.

Matthew hurried out the front door.

Alexandra turned to Amy. “You and I both know your brother was in love with that girl.”

“Caramel wasn’t right for him. He would have been miserable.”

“But she was right for your
father
?” The mug shook in Alexandra’s hand. “And after what Joe did to you.”

Amy sat up. Her jaw quivered as she spoke. “That wasn’t Caramel’s fault. Or Dad’s. Or Matt’s.”

Alexandra sucked her lips in like a tight knot.

“Or
mine
.” Amy stood up. Her big hazel eyes were full of tears. “My daddy just died, Mother. Do you realize that, or is this still all about you?”

Alexandra swept her silky scarf over her shoulder. “Is
she
going to stay upstairs the whole time I’m here?”

“It looks like it.” Amy took a deep breath. “We’ll get the boxes in, and then you and Matt can leave. How’s that?”

Matthew entered with two plastic bins stacked up to his eyebrows. “Is this everything, Mom?”

“Yes, that’s it. All I had left of your father.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn it,” Amy said.

“I was tempted.” Alexandra sat down. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I just can’t wrap my mind around it. I can’t believe he really is gone.”

Amy held a tissue to her eyes. “Neither can I, Mom.”

“He wasn’t a great guy, but he had such a force of personality.”

Matthew set the boxes on the floor next to the couch. “You were married to him for a long time, Mom.”

Alexandra shook her head. “It was another lifetime.”

Jane’s arm was aching, but she didn’t dare set the tray down. Could Matthew have killed his father to get to Caramel? Could Alexandra have killed
Douglas
out of a rage that had simmered all these years? And was Caramel hiding upstairs because of Alexandra or Matthew?

Matthew set the plastic containers down. “Let me take that for you.” He took the tray of coffee and set it on the coffee table. Her cover gone, Jane slipped back into the kitchen.

She wished for a moment that the Swanson house wasn’t so new. She would have loved to sneak up to the bedrooms via the servant’s staircase, but there was no such thing. Jane emptied the coffee filter into the trash instead. Until Amy told her it was time to go, she could stay, even if she felt awkward just hanging around.

“Take what you need for the book, Matthew, and leave the rest for Caramel. I don’t want any of it back.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Matthew’s voice was husky, like he was holding back a sob.

“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.

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 back-handed 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 eye sight 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?”