English Trifle (5 page)

Breanna was three steps up the marble staircase when she turned. “Mom,” she said. “Come on.”

“But—” Sadie looked at Liam, trying to send him a telepathic message to insist she stay behind. He needed her; she knew he did.

“Please go with her, Sadie,” he said quietly, so Breanna couldn’t hear. “I don’t want her to be alone. It’s not safe.”

His receptors for telepathy were horribly out of service. However, she couldn’t argue with his reasoning and so she turned and followed Breanna, all the time letting the questions run through her head like the ticker tape at the bottom of a news program. She remembered the assistant cook running out of the kitchen. Should she tell Liam that?

At the top of the stairs, Sadie and Breanna headed toward the west wing, where their room was located. They’d been offered separate rooms, but preferred staying together, even if it seemed to offend the staff a little bit. As soon as the door closed behind them, Sadie inspected the room closer than she ever had before. It was a beautiful room, to be sure, and both she and Breanna had oohed and aahed when they arrived and then tried to determine the cost of furnishing this room. A huge four-poster bed, draped with a satin bedcover, was centered on the wall opposite the door. At the foot of the bed was a bench upholstered in the same fabric as the drapes and several of the accent pillows on the bed. The walls were covered with a light green wallpaper, the tone picked up from a contrasting fabric used to trim the pillow shams and the ruffle on the bench. But this time Sadie wasn’t looking for the sake of admiration. This time she had a purpose.

Breanna sat on the bed while Sadie began running her fingers along the wall.

“What are you doing?” Breanna asked.

“Just looking around,” Sadie said innocently. She encountered a seam in the wallpaper and ran her fingers down it all the way to the baseboard, then felt up as high as she could go. “Does it seem weird to you that they have a wallpaper seam this close to the door? Usually wallpaper is begun around doors and windows so the longer portions are closer to the focal points in the room.”

“It’s not the edge of a secret passageway,” Breanna said dryly.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Sadie said. Unfortunately, after closer inspection she surmised it really was just the wallpaper seam. Bummer. “Where there is one mystery, there is often another, and these old estates are full of secret passageways and things.”

“Please don’t do this, Mom.”

Sadie stopped and turned to look at her daughter. She softened her expression in hopes of looking innocent. “Do what?”

“Go all Scooby-Doo on me,” Breanna said, sounding annoyed. “I can see it in your face, Mom, it’s like you’re infected.”

Sadie put her hands on her hips. “Infected?” she repeated.

“Yes, it’s like you have some disease—Detectivitis.”

“You act like it’s a bad thing,” Sadie replied, frowning.

“It is a bad thing,” Breanna countered. “Remember Sister Ferret’s root beer at the church Christmas party? You thought it was poisoned.”

Sadie cringed just a little bit. That incident had been rather unfortunate, but Sadie still stood beside her investigative skills that drove her to the conclusion. “No one brings root beer to a party in December,” Sadie said. “And it smelled weird.”

“So you accidentally knocked it on the floor,” Breanna summed up.

“It was never tested,” Sadie added. “You don’t know that I’m not responsible for saving a hundred lives that night.”

“And what about that Christmas card you opened with latex gloves?”

“There was definitely something white and powdery on the outside of the envelope,” Sadie said. “And your father’s aunt Beulah has never liked me very much. I’ve always found it strange that she keeps sending me Christmas cards.”

“And so you thought she’d got a hold of some anthrax and sent it to you in a Christmas card?”

Okay, it did sound a little silly when Breanna said it like that. But at the time, it made a lot of sense. “Better safe than sorry,” Sadie said.

“Then we should stay in our room and keep our noses out of all of this because that would be much safer.” She paused and her expression softened with exhaustion. “Please, Mom, I can’t take it right now. Promise me you won’t put your nose anywhere it doesn’t belong.”

Sadie thought back to Breanna’s reaction at finding John Henry, and to the reserved mood she’d had all day—did Sadie really want to add to her daughter’s stress? No. But neither did she want to sit here and do nothing. Still, she noted that the phrase “won’t put your nose anywhere it doesn’t belong” was pretty open-ended. Who determined where Sadie’s nose did or did not belong?

“Promise me you won’t play detective,” Breanna insisted.

“Okay,” Sadie said, feeling and sounding very dejected. “I promise I won’t play detective,” she repeated, though it wasn’t playing if she were doing something that was truly effective. She sat down on the bed next to Breanna, symbolizing that they were together in their approach—for now. “So, we just wait for Liam to call us?” she asked.

Breanna nodded, so they sat there for a few seconds. Then she furrowed her brow. “Why wouldn’t he have his phone on?” Breanna asked.

Excellent question, however Sadie was under orders. “Don’t think about it.”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Breanna said. “He always has his phone on.”

“You don’t want to be putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Sadie said in mock reprimand. “You don’t want it to get all infected.”

“My wondering why Liam didn’t have his phone on is not the same as trying to solve a murder.” Breanna threw herself back on the bed and covered her eyes with one arm while letting out a breath. “I just want to go home.”

Sadie reached out a hand and rubbed Breanna’s arm, filled with sympathy. “The sooner this is solved, the sooner we can do that.”

Jungle sounds coming from the vicinity of Breanna’s front pocket signaled that she’d received a text message and she sat up in order to retrieve her phone and read the message.

“Now he’s got his phone on,” she said grumbling. “Liam wants us to come to the library.” She turned so that her legs were off the bed. “He’s assembling the staff to see if anyone has any information.”

“Oh, well, maybe we shouldn’t go, it’s not really any of our business,” Sadie replied, folding her hands demurely in her lap as if she weren’t using all her powers of restraint to keep from running downstairs right that second.

Breanna gave her a withering look. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

Sadie smiled. “At least I admit to my curiosity,” she said, getting off the bed and straightening the blue pinstriped button-up shirt she’d worn today thinking it would be comfortable for the flight home. “You’re trying to deny it but you’re just as intrigued as I am.”

“Not true,” Breanna said as they headed toward the door.

“Whatever you say, dear,” Sadie said with another knowing smile. She didn’t believe Breanna was any less curious than she was. However, she did agree that other feelings were likely overwhelming Breanna’s questions. She opened the door and held it so Breanna could exit first.

“To the library,” Sadie said, unable to hide her excitement.

Breanna’s response was as dry as Sadie’s had been upbeat. “To the library,” she repeated. “May the inspectors hurry and get here so we can go home.”

~ ~ ~

Sadie looked around at the faces of the people in the room, noting that most of them were also taking inventory of who was here. Curiosity was thick in the air as everyone waited to find out the reason for the meeting. Only a few faces seemed tense—specifically Mrs. Land, who’d been located back in the kitchen. She claimed she hadn’t seen the body and so she’d just gone back to the kitchen. Sadie wanted to ask how that was possible, since she and Breanna had been waiting for her return, but she hadn’t had the chance yet.

There were thirteen staff members, many of whom she’d never seen before this moment. It was creepy to think they had been doing their jobs without her seeing them even once over the last two days. Some were obviously groundskeepers, as they wore work boots and scruffy jeans. They seemed ill at ease in the ornate room and chose to stand clustered together on one side, while the house staff had taken chairs set about the room and pulled them forward. Grant stood at the double doors that led into the hallway. Sadie looked closely at each face, trying to discern the one belonging to the murderer, but none of them were giving up their secrets. Not yet, anyway.

Liam nodded at Grant, who then shut the doors. Liam made his way to the front of the room, passing twelve-foot bookcases, not to mention the floor to ceiling bookshelves built into the walls. The room was immense and beautiful, making Sadie wish she had another day to just read in this room. There were several sitting areas around the room as well as a large executive desk set by the windows that looked out over the front gardens of the house.

Mrs. Land had brought some wonderful, delicate little lemon cookies with an even yummier lemon glaze. No one else seemed in the mood to snack, but Sadie had already eaten five of them—she blamed it on her nerves. It didn’t hurt that the cookies were wonderfully delicious either.

Liam turned to face his audience once he reached the desk and he pulled at the sleeve of his Denver Broncos sweatshirt—Breanna had given it to him for Christmas. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. His discomfort made Sadie squirm and she couldn’t help but wonder how he would ever be earl when he was so uncomfortable with authority.

“Um, well, we find ourselves in quite a predicament,” he began. He glanced quickly at Breanna, who, with Sadie, stood behind the staff, directly across from him. “Um, maybe Sadie—uh, Mrs. Hoffmiller—could come up and tell everyone what you and Breanna saw.” He hurried to move to the side before Sadie even had a chance to answer, and he tripped on the edge of the rug, causing him to stumble forward and catch himself. Sadie looked around and realized he hadn’t left her much of a choice, not that she minded so much.

As she made her way to the front, one of the groundskeepers nudged another one and they both lifted an eyebrow before looking at the floor, hiding smiles. Their lack of respect for Liam was obvious. Sadie wondered how many of the other staff members had similar thoughts.

“Um, well, I’m Sadie Hoffmiller,” she said by way of introduction, assuming that since she didn’t know everyone, they didn’t know her either. She took a breath and began telling them what she and Breanna had seen. She was at the part where they left the sitting room in search of help, when one of the doors to the library opened. Everyone turned to look toward the door, and then seemed to sit or stand straighter. Grant hurried to hold the door as a man entered the room and leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed. Grant closed the door, bowed slightly toward the newcomer, and then returned to his place, his hands behind his back and his posture ramrod straight. The man who had entered had dark curly hair and was dressed in what Sadie would call business casual: a button-up shirt, high-quality slacks, and highly polished shoes. He looked about Liam’s age—late twenties—maybe a little younger. It was obvious by the way he carried himself that he wasn’t a staff member.

“Austin,” Liam said, nodding a greeting toward the other man. His tone seemed a little tight, but Sadie was busy scanning her memory banks for the name Austin. She couldn’t find a match.

The man nodded in return, then shooed his hand toward Sadie as if telling her to continue. She took a breath and picked up the story despite her curiosity as to who this man was and why everyone, including Liam, seemed to be standing at attention now that he was here. No one said a word as Sadie continued with her story. Mrs. Land fidgeted more than ever with the hem of her smock and Sadie couldn’t help but keep looking in her direction. “And so then we called 999 and . . . uh, found Liam.” She knew she’d rushed through the end of the story, but the interruption had thrown her off.

“Where was Liam when all this was happening?” Austin asked from the back of the room.

It took a few seconds for Liam to realize he was supposed to answer. “I . . . I was upstairs with my father,” he said, looking at the floor—completely cowed. “I was saying good-bye.”

Austin nodded his acceptance of this explanation, and looked around at the staff as he pushed away from the wall. “And what did you find in the sitting room, Mrs. Land?” Austin walked toward the front of the room, every eye watching him. In a matter of seconds, he’d managed to take total control of the meeting despite the fact that he’d missed half of the story.

“Well, I saw . . . nothing,” Mrs. Land said, the nervousness in her voice ringing like a bell as Austin reached the front of the room and turned to face her. “There was nothing there when I arrived in the sitting room.”

“Really?” Austin said with condescension. “These two women would have reached the kitchen in a minute or less after leaving the sitting room, and the body managed to disappear before you arrived?”

“I suppose so, sir,” Mrs. Land said. She swallowed. “Or else it was never really there.” She looked at the floor as she said it, but her words hit Sadie like a slap. Why would she and Breanna lie about something like that? How could anyone think that of them?

Austin turned to Sadie, eyes narrowing slightly. “You say he was stabbed through the heart with a fireplace poker?”

His antagonistic approach struck a nerve and she decided that if he could talk to Liam that way in front of his staff, she could return the same attitude. “And how did you hear that?” she asked, cocking her head slightly and resisting the urge to put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but I’m wondering how you know so many details when you’ve only just arrived.”

Whether she actually heard a gasp, or simply felt a collective pause from the people in the room, she wasn’t sure, but she felt as though she’d managed to shock every one of them by talking to this man the way she had. She looked into the startled faces of the staff around her as Liam cleared his throat and leaned toward Sadie. “This is Austin Melcalfe, my cousin of sorts—his grandmother is my Aunt Hattie—or I guess you would call her Lady Hane—and his father is the physician tending to my father. Austin’s been the trustee managing the affairs of the estate since Dad’s stroke.”