English Trifle (13 page)

“I’ll, uh, see you at dinner,” Liam said. Breanna nodded and watched him go.

Sadie and Breanna returned to their rooms where Sadie retrieved her notebook and began filling it full of every innuendo and detail Mrs. Land had shared with her.

“So how did it go with Liam?” Sadie asked when she finished.

“How do you think it went, Mom?” Breanna said, flopping onto the bed. “We’ve broken up. I can’t believe you set me up like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Sadie said, giving her best repentant expression. “But I could tell he was intent on keeping us out of the kitchen. You were the only reason he’d give in. Was it horrible?”

Breanna let out a breath. “No,” she said. “He wanted to tell me some . . . things.” She looked away, making Sadie wonder what Liam had said that Breanna didn’t want to tell her. “He found flights for Monday morning, but he’s not coming back with us.”

Sadie was surprised to hear that. “He’s not?”

Breanna shook her head. “He’s afraid if he leaves he won’t get back before his father passes away. He wants to take over the trustee position and manage his father’s affairs.”

“What about his job in Portland?” Sadie asked. She simply couldn’t imagine Liam doing what Austin did. Were his father conscious, she felt sure he’d feel the same way.

“Liam left a message for his boss to call him,” Breanna said, making a face. “It’s going to be ugly. Honestly, even under these circumstances I can’t believe he’s just walking away. I told him I thought he was acting rashly—but he’s determined.”

“Wow,” Sadie said, imagining what a difficult decision that must have been for him to make.

“How did it go with Mrs. Land?” Breanna asked, changing the subject and looking at the notebook Sadie held. “Did she tell you anything?”

Eager to discuss her findings, Sadie took about two minutes to share everything she’d learned from Mrs. Land.

“Oh, my gosh,” Breanna said when Sadie finished relaying Grant’s untimely interruption. She’d propped herself up on her elbows during Sadie’s recital. She looked decidedly shaken by what Sadie had told her, making Sadie wonder if she shouldn’t be telling her daughter so much. As the day had continued on, Breanna seemed to become more and more fragile around the edges. “Five more seconds and you would know who’d moved him.” Rather than sounding excited by this, she sounded scared.

Sometimes Sadie had to remind herself that not everyone was as well equipped for a crisis as she was. Not everyone had lost so many people they loved—picked off one by one by twists of fate, circumstance, and just plain mortal tribulation. Then again, at Breanna’s age, Sadie hadn’t lost anyone yet. Within ten years she was a widow and motherless—Neil having died of a massive heart attack and Sadie’s mother killed in a car accident. Just over a year ago, Sadie’s dad had died after a long battle with colon cancer. Understanding that loss was a part of life was as ingrained in Sadie as was the recipe for the Everyday Ganache she required to be specified in her children’s apologies.

“I was so close,” Sadie reiterated, shaking her head in disbelief. Then she stopped and sat up straighter. “I bet Grant is busy getting the dining room set up about now. I wonder if I could catch Mrs. Land before dinner starts. I left my recipe book down there so I’d have an excuse to go back.”

“I don’t know,” Breanna said, her smooth forehead puckered with concern. “Maybe you ought to leave it alone.”

“You told me I could look into things,” Sadie reminded her.

Breanna shrugged. “I’ve had time to think about it since then, and I think it was a mistake.”

“Did something happen when you and Liam talked?” Sadie asked, annoyed at the flip-flopping behavior. “It’s almost as if you’re doubting that we saw a dead body at all.”

“I’m not doubting anything,” Breanna said. “I know what we saw—but I guess maybe I’ve realized how serious this really is. I don’t want us getting too involved or causing any problems. Liam’s going to send us to London in the morning.”

“London?” Sadie repeated, then immediately shook her head, reminded that they’d overheard Grant saying the same thing. “No way, we can’t just leave. We know what’s happened here—what really happened.” She paused and looked hard at her daughter, wishing for the millionth time that Breanna’s face was more reflective of her thoughts and feelings. Shawn, Sadie’s son, was an open book. Every lie about why he was late for curfew, every denial that he’d eaten the last of the chocolate chip cookies, every assurance that the girl was “just a friend” was betrayed by his eyes, the set of his jaw, the way he clenched his fists. Poor boy couldn’t get away with a thing—Sadie hoped that wasn’t why he decided to go to school at Michigan State. Hmmm, something to think about later.

Right now, however, she was up against Breanna, who kept most of her thoughts and feelings locked up tight, only offering general moods or emotions up for examination. Right now, she was holding something back, but it was impossible to tell if it was just the stress of everything going on or if it was something else. “What did Liam say to you that’s made you pull back from all this?”

Breanna made a sound between a growl and a groan as she stood up from the bed and smoothed back her hair. “Fine,” she said with frustration. “Let’s go see Mrs. Land.”

Sadie couldn’t keep up with the rate at which Breanna changed her mind but she liked this new direction so she went with it. “Good,” she said.

The notebook was too big to fit in her pocket and it made her look like some kind of auditor, so she put it in the nightstand drawer next to the bed before she and Breanna headed for the kitchen again. This time she didn’t bother with stealth, though they hung back at the top of the stairs while Liam, Austin, and the security team entered the sitting room. Sadie hoped the security guards were ex-cops and would realize the faulty investigation going on. Maybe they could step in. As soon as they were all in the room, she and Breanna hurried down the stairs, around the Christmas tree, and through the doors that led to the kitchen below.

They slowed their steps as they entered the dish room, then stopped completely when they saw Grant pace into view in the doorway leading to the kitchen. He had the wall phone to his ear, and Sadie and Breanna froze, catching snippets of his conversation. “Yes, please call me as soon as you know their availability. . . . I understand the holiday makes it difficult, but we still need a cook. I’ve a houseful of people. . . . Right. Until then.”

As soon as he hung up, he turned and noticed them standing there; he straightened immediately when he realized he’d been overheard.

“I left my recipe book here,” Sadie said. She moved toward the recipe book she could see on the far counter, wondering why Grant was looking for a new cook. She picked up the book and held it to her chest, scanning the kitchen. Grant and Breanna still stood near the doorway to the dish room; other than that, no one else was there. “Is Mrs. Land here?” she finally asked when she saw no sign of the woman. “I’ve been after her all week for that scone recipe and she said she’d think about it. I’m hoping she’s taken pity on me.”

“She’s gathering her things,” Grant said, as professionally as ever.

Sadie tried to keep her surprise to herself. “Her things?”

Just then Mrs. Land emerged from the servant side of the kitchen and all eyes went to her. She had a large duffel bag over her shoulder. No one seemed to know what to say for a moment. Finally, Grant cleared his throat. “The car is ready to take you to the train station,” he said to Mrs. Land. “Have a nice holiday.”

“Holiday?” Sadie couldn’t take her eyes off of Mrs. Land, who managed a smile that seemed legitimate even if it was nervous. “Grant is allowing me to go to London early,” she said. “To see my boy for the New Year.” Her face lit up when she talked about her son, solidifying what she’d said about her commitment to Rupert. However, Sadie didn’t miss how convenient it was that she would not be here for the duration of Sadie and Breanna’s stay. Had Grant pinned Mrs. Land as a weak link?

“Early?” Sadie asked.

“The staff takes two days off at New Year’s,” Grant explained. “Mrs. Land is simply leaving early.”

Sadie looked at the man, trying not to glare. Had he killed John Henry? He was probably strong enough to both stab the smaller man with a poker and drag his body away once she and Breanna had left the room. Is that what Mrs. Land had been about to unveil? And now Grant was sending her away before she’d have the chance to tell Sadie the truth. Sadie should never have asked Grant about Mrs. Land’s son. She’d given away their conversation and now Mrs. Land was leaving.

All these thoughts rushed through her mind but she only spoke one out loud, mostly in hopes of masking the direction of her thoughts; she didn’t want him to know what she was really thinking. “But who will do the cooking? Did Lacy come back?”

She caught Grant shoot a questioning glance at Mrs. Land, but Mrs. Land didn’t seem to notice. Had Mrs. Land told Grant about Lacy running out? Sadie didn’t think so, judging from his reaction.

“I don’t know where she is,” he said. “But since she usually does breakfast I’m hoping she’ll be back in the morning. It’s been a trying day for all of us.”

Sadie mentally kicked herself again for letting Lacy leave. She wished she could ask Mrs. Land more about Lacy and what would keep her from returning to Southgate. She still didn’t know who had warned Lacy to leave or why Mrs. Land had seemed protective of the girl.

“The kitchen is none of your concern,” Grant said. He smiled, but it seemed forced. “Dinner will be served shortly. Please return upstairs. As I told you before, only staff is allowed in this part of the house.”

Sadie ignored his emphasis. “I’d be happy to help out until you find someone else,” Sadie said, imagining how perfect that would be. They had a cook who didn’t cook, certainly having a guest who did cook wouldn’t violate any of their silly rules more than that. It would only be for a meal or two anyway, and it would give her something to do. Plus, she’d have this beautiful kitchen all to herself, and she had no doubt that if she were part of the inner workings of this house, she’d be privy to all the innermost knowledge as well.

“That won’t be necessary,” Grant said.

“Oh, it really wouldn’t be a problem,” Sadie assured him, wondering why no one would even consider it. She was always happy for help in her kitchen at home. Why was this so different? “I love to cook and am quite comfortable in any kitchen.”

“It just isn’t done, Mrs. Hoffmiller,” he said by way of explanation, though he sounded more sympathetic than frustrated, which made her question his position as potential suspect in her mind. Would a murderer be sympathetic toward her in regards to anything? He didn’t seem defensive, just trying to do his job. She wondered if Austin had committed him to making sure Sadie didn’t take on any responsibilities. “Please return upstairs.” There was a pleading tone to his voice that ignited her concerns even more. Yet it would be foolish to discount him all together. She made a note to watch him carefully, one way or the other.

Sadie looked between him and Mrs. Land, and felt she had no choice but to give in again. She did not want to suffer Grant’s poor favor any more than she already had, especially if Mrs. Land wasn’t going to be around to give her any more information. It killed her that Mrs. Land was leaving; she should have pushed harder when she’d had the chance.

“Have a wonderful visit with your son,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment even while scouring her mind for a way she could steal just a few more minutes with this woman. “He’s lucky to have a mother who loves him as much as you do.” She wondered again what the lawyer was for. Just how much trouble was Rupert in? And who was paying for the lawyer—Austin?

“Thank you,” Mrs. Land said with a slight incline of her head. “I’m anxious to see him, that’s for sure.” Her eyes moved to the recipe book Sadie had forgotten she was holding. “Oh, good, you found your book.”

“Yes,” Sadie said with a distracted nod.

“I asked Grant to make sure you got your book back,” Mrs. Land said, looking at Sadie. “And your jacket.”

“Thank you,” Sadie replied, wishing Mrs. Land hadn’t said anything about the jacket. She might still need an excuse to visit the kitchen. She hurried to move past it. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to help?”

“Yes,” Grant said as Mrs. Land opened her mouth to answer. “Everything is taken care of.” He lifted a hand toward Sadie’s jacket. “Your—”

“So, you’re taking the train?” Sadie asked, cutting him off. Oh, what she wouldn’t do for even thirty seconds with Mrs. Land. “We took it when we went up to Northampton,” she said. “The transportation here is nothing short of amazing.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Land said with a confused nod as to why they were discussing the train system.

“Do you have many stops between here and London? We took a car, so I’m not familiar with the route.”

“Well—” Mrs. Land began.

“Please, Mrs. Hoffmiller,” Grant said, taking a step forward. “You really must return upstairs.”

“Alright, sorry to keep you,” she offered, then turned and led the way, walking right past her jacket in the process. No one stopped her. Good. And Grant didn’t follow her, which was even better.

Breanna reluctantly followed Sadie into the dish room. “Huh,” she said quietly. “That was weird.”

“I’d say,” Sadie agreed. She kept her voice soft so as not to be overheard. “Why let the cook go to London when you have a house full of people? Do they really give the staff two days off?”

“I remember Liam saying something about that,” Breanna said. “That’s one of the reasons we were supposed to leave today—because the staff was leaving anyway. His dad does it every year—two days paid leave for the New Year.”

Now that she thought about that, Sadie did remember Liam talking to Breanna about it during one of the meals they’d had in London. Sadie had been lost in her Beef Wellington and had only paid their conversation half the attention it deserved. “They come back on January second, right?”

“I think that’s what he said,” Breanna whispered as they made their way up the concrete steps toward the door that would connect to the foyer of the house. Sadie couldn’t be sure, but Breanna seemed relieved to be out of the kitchen. Was it just because Breanna didn’t like confrontation? Did Grant make her uncomfortable?