The Unwilling Heir : The Unwilling Heir - Chap 7 by Begin Again |
ENDING OF CHAPTER 6
"If you catch the death of cold, you'll not find any of your answers, so get in bed, and I'll give you a serving tray before the plate gets cold again. I lit a fire so the room will be toasty in a minute or two." She patted Sandra's legs under the comforter. "Let things be for the night." Drained and confused, Sandra snuggled under the covers, thinking maybe Lorrie was right. As the housekeeper prepared to leave, she stopped at the doorway and winked. "There's a stairway at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen. Just in case, you might want more to eat. It's shorter, so I use it a lot." She opened the door, adding, "Now, I'm sure the men are wondering what the screaming was about, so I have that to attend to." She shook her head, mumbling, "My work is never done, it seems." With a final glance at Sandra, she added, "Now, deary, I see you stewing over there. Just don't go jumping on the train before it even pulls into the station. You get something warm in your stomach and a good night's rest, and I am sure the men will be sitting down with you in the morning." ***** CHAPTER 7 Lorrie entered the dining room, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies that filled the room with a warm, inviting aroma. Bite-size sandwiches, neatly arranged and garnished with colorful vegetables, shared the tray. "Well, I hope your meeting of the minds has figured something out," she smirked. "If not, you'll need food to get your brains fired up." James stopped his restless pacing and fixed his gaze on Lorrie. "Woman, what are you ranting about? Can't you see we are busy?" Lorrie's smirk widened. "James, are you telling me you didn't hear her scream?" She looked at each of the men in the room. "You can thank me for startling her. Otherwise, she'd have been sitting on the steps all night listening to the likes of you fretting. You wouldn't have had to worry about telling her." Ryan sprang out of his chair and approached Lorrie. "She was listening?" He frowned and turned to stare at James and the Judge. "I told you she wouldn't stop until she pieced it together. You didn't give her enough credit when you picked her." "It's about time one of you said something intelligent. She might be new to the investigation business, but she's smart — maybe too smart, which can get her in trouble, especially if she does it alone." Benny yawned and stretched his legs. "What's all the yelling about? I was trying to take a nap." "Forget about a nap and start helping us figure this out." "Well, if you ask me, I oughta find my .38 and pop a few people. Who's going to miss them?" Benny laughed. "Oh, that's right. I'm retired, so to speak." Lorrie scowled and moved closer to Benny. "You think you're funny! In case you forget, this is your last chance. If you blow it, you'll be sitting with the devil." "I know! I know!" He shrugged. "Old habits are hard to break." Benny offered her a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry." "Your .38 is at the bottom of the river, exactly where they found your body. You were swimming with the fishes, if you remember." The Judge frowned. "Benny, you need to take this seriously, or Lorrie's right — you'll be burning in hell." "Can we get back to the question at hand?" Ryan interjected into the Judge and Benny's conversation. "I think we lay it on the table and let her decide whether she wants in. If she does, one of us must always be by her side. Agreed?" James rejoined the group. "Do we tell her everything?" "I say yes." The Judge asked for a show of hands. "That includes you, too, Lorrie." She raised her hand and said, "If you don't tell her up front, she'll be a hellion when she finds out. It's better to know where we stand." "Well, I guess we can all get some rest now." As they started to say their goodnights, the front doorbell rang. "Goodness me, who in blazes would be ringing the bell at this time of night?" Lorrie hurried to the front door, with James following closely behind. As she opened the door, she exclaimed, "Bloody! If it isn't the devil herself." "You can't speak to me like that!" Madeline pushed past Lorrie as she entered the house. "James, since you're in charge, please keep the help in line." Madeline shot a haughty expression in Lorrie's direction. Lorrie quickly piped, "Did you forget we have a new lady of the house?" "If you are referring to that impertinent woman who had the nerve to attend my husband's funeral, you are wrong," she sneered, her voice laced with venom. "She'll be unable to give my home the care it needs. She'll be gone in a few weeks, mark my word." "And when did you ever lift a finger to care for this house?" Lorrie smirked. "Ladies, please. Save the hen-fight for another day. It's late, and I'd like to retire." "Feel free, James. I know where to find my room." Lorrie sputtered, "Your room? You forfeited any rights to that room when Mr. Wakefield caught you and the sheriff rolling around in the bed upstairs." "It would benefit you to keep to your kitchen instead of listening outside private quarters. It's time you learned your place," Madeline snapped. "Why you —" Lorrie's face was red with rage. James stepped between them. "Lorrie, I believe you were going to check on our guest. And Madeline, what brings you knocking at the mansion's door near midnight?" "I have a flat tire on the Caddy. Noah was too cheap to replace them, and they're nearly bald," she whined. "I doubt that! Regardless, you are welcome to use the phone to call road service." "I tried. No one can come until the morning, so I'll need to stay in my old room. You wouldn't refuse a poor grieving widow a place to lay her weary head, now would you, James?" "You can save the dramatics, Madeline. You aren't a grieving widow by any standards. As for the room, you can stay till the flat is fixed. "Oh, James, you are such a dear." Madeline blew him a kiss and quickly ascended the stairs. "Oh, Lorrie, don't worry about my bath." Rage bubbled inside Lorrie. She looked at James, then stormed into the kitchen, afraid she might throw something at the woman. ***** "Madeline will be joining us for breakfast." James stood in the kitchen doorway, afraid Lorrie might throw something at him. "I can't believe you let her stay. We can't have the talk with Sandra as planned, though it would be amusing to see what Ryan and Benny might do with her breakfast. Floating orange juice or flipping flapjacks!" Lorrie's belly rumbled with laughter. "Or I could slip some rat poisoning in her food." "Absolutely not!" "I was just kidding, of course." But the smile on her face said otherwise. "The meeting with Sandra will have to wait. I'll go and tell the guys. No shenanigans, Lorrie. Understood?" "If you insist but —" "No buts! I mean it, Lorrie. We're supposed to be getting them out of trouble, not digging the hole deeper." "Get along with you now. It's better to have the conversation at the carriage house. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. If we're lucky, Madeline will be asleep." "One can hope." James smiled and hurried out toward the carriage house. ***** As soon as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Sandra jumped out of bed and hurried to her bedroom window. She pushed the drapes back and opened the window, taking a deep breath of the fresh, crisp morning air. It was a welcome contrast to the polluted city air she had been breathing for the past few years. Suddenly, a tap at her door interrupted her peaceful moment. "Coming," she called out, feeling a bit annoyed. Despite the interruption, Sandra was excited to see Lorrie and the rest of the house. She swung open the door, ready to start her day. "Good morning, Lor-" she began but stopped mid-sentence when she saw Madeline standing before her. Her mouth dropped. "Madeline." "Sorry to disappoint you. I heard a voice, and I thought I should investigate." Madeline peeked over Sandra's shoulder. "I wasn't aware you were in residence already." Sandra was surprised to see Madeline, and her expression showed it. "I didn't expect to see you here either," she replied. "I had car trouble, and James insisted I stay. After all, I did live here until a few days ago." "Of course. I'm only here for a few days." Sandra hesitated and replied, "After all, Noah left the house to me." Before Madeline could respond, Sandra closed the door, feeling a surge of satisfaction. She leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. A grin crept across her face. Now that felt good! ***** Sandra showered and took her time preparing for the day. She chose her favorite jeans and a loose baby blue shirt over a white tank top. By the time she was ready, her stomach was rumbling. She was surprised to see Madeline in the hall as she closed her bedroom door. "Are you going down to breakfast? The bacon is calling my name." "No, I'm feeling a bit queasy this morning. Would you tell Lorraine I'll have something later? I think I'll go back to bed for a while." Sandra nodded and hurried down the stairs without another thought about the grieving widow. ***** Sandra stepped into the kitchen and let out a contented sigh. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted towards her, and she hurried towards the pot. "Good morning, Lorrie. You should have warned me that the mornings were so beautiful," she said as she poured herself a cup. Lorrie smiled. "It's so nice to see you so chipper this morning, dear. Not to dampen your mood, but have you heard we have a guest? More like a witch if you ask me." Sandra raised an eyebrow. "She was at my door this morning. Said she was surprised to see me." "My goodness! What did the woman want?" Lorrie filled herself a cup. "Cream and sugar are on the table if you want them." "Thank you. Will James be joining us for breakfast?" Sandra frowned. "I almost forgot that Madeline said she wasn't feeling well and might skip breakfast." "James planned on it, but Madeline tossed a wrench into his plans. He was a bit sour when he left." She handed Sandra a small plate with a warm cinnamon roll. "Shall we enjoy the morning on the porch? And maybe you'd like to stroll through the gardens afterward. The roses are starting to open, and they smell so good. You might need a light sweater, though." "I'd love that." Sandra placed her coffee mug on the table. "Should I grab my sweater now?" "I've got a plate of bacon, piping hot, and the cinnamon rolls. Let's enjoy them, and then you can run back upstairs to get the sweater." Sandra inhaled the aroma and smiled. "Sounds delicious to me." Sandra took the coffee mugs outside, and Lorrie followed closely behind. "Your Highness would never have shared a moment like this with me. I hope you decide to stay, Sandra." "It's beautiful, Lorrie. The sweet smell of blooming roses. Look, two hummingbirds are flitting from flower to flower." Sandra sighed. "But as for staying, we'll see after my talk with James." ****** While the two women enjoyed the morning, Madeline slipped into Sandra's room. "Let's see who you are and why Noah would leave this mansion to you?" She quickly opened the drawers and then the suitcase. After checking the armoire, Madeline was disappointed. "Where does this woman shop? The Goodwill? She lives in the big city, and we've got far more fashionable clothes right here in Willow Creek." Sandra and Lorrie's laughter drifted through the open window. "She's sharing breakfast with the help? How low can she go?" Taking a few more looks around the room, Madeline shook her head. "There's nothing here worth seeing." As she headed towards the door, her eyes caught a glimpse of the handles of a brown satchel peeking out from under the bed. Curiosity piqued, she bent down and pulled it out, her fingers tracing the leather texture. She unzipped it and stared at a book with a beautiful, leather-bound cover. "Hmmm, what do we have here?" Madeline pulled the leather-bound book out and read the cover. "The Secret Life of Judge Parker." Intrigued, she opened the book and began to read. With each passing moment, her heart raced faster and faster as she realized the magnitude of what she had uncovered. "I don't know who you are, Judge Parker, or how you're connected to Sandra Monroe, but I promise to find out. For my own benefit, of course." Madeline debated whether to take the book now or later. She decided it was too obvious if it disappeared while she was upstairs alone. She needed a plan. She slipped it back into the satchel and pushed it under the bed, murmuring, "I'll be back." As she stood up, she couldn't shake the feeling that Sandra Monroe wasn't the person she appeared to be. "Well, Miss Ugly Duckling, what are you hiding under those bland feathers of yours?" She walked towards the door, opened it, and hurried down the hall to her room, her eyes scanning the area for Sandra. As she reached her door, she turned and saw Sandra standing at the top of the stairs.
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