Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
It takes me some time to calm my nerves but I head downstairs.
I’m not Laura and I’m not crazy—well, not yet anyway.
My day must proceed as normal as if I’m blissfully unaware of the web of lies around me.
This morning, I made Jenny aware that I intend to spend more time with the children and will be going with them next week to visit their grandparents.
I also requested a list of their movements so I know where they are each day.
It’s obvious Jenny isn’t too happy with me taking over.
She even mentioned the hostility I might receive by going with her.
I’m aware Jack’s parents don’t like me and that’s just too bad.
Next week, I’ll be with the children and showing everyone I’m here to stay.
The thing is: are they all working against me?
Perhaps my inquiry about the night Laura died has set everyone on edge or maybe it’s because I’m mentally exhausted and reading things into situations that don’t exist.
Lying awake each night is becoming a habit, and lack of sleep is making it hard to concentrate.
I should be sleeping like the dead. Jack is an exhausting lover, but all night I just lie there staring into the darkness and listening to the waves crashing on the beach.
All I can think about is who killed Caroline and Laura.
Did Laura believe Caroline was murdered too?
Had she come close to the truth and needed to be disposed of?
Did Jack know and is he covering up for someone?
Where are Caroline’s wedding photographs?
Most people have albums. Did Jack have photographs taken on their honeymoon?
I must find them, and his wedding to Laura too.
I need to know who was at both weddings.
Everyone there had the opportunity to kill them.
It will be easy to narrow down who was at both murder scenes.
I’m not sure what to do if I discover the murderer.
Keeping away from them will be the first move, the second will be having a nice chat with the local homicide police.
I walk out the front door and follow the path to the rose gardens; my head is so filled with information, I figure it will burst. So many ideas spin around in my mind, making it difficult to make a decision.
This is not like me. Maybe it’s because I’ve always had a job and sitting around all day doing nothing is making me crazy.
Now that’s a dirty word around here and I try and center my thoughts.
Having a mission to discover the truth will keep me sane.
I pull out the notebook from the pocket of my cargo pants.
Having clothing with a ton of pockets is essential in this house.
I’ll be able to always keep my phone and other things with me.
I sit down on a bench beside the fragrant beds.
All around me, the heads of the peach-colored roses still carry the morning dew.
It’s peaceful here and my head clears. I make a note to look for the wedding albums and then wonder if Jack has kept his yearbooks.
He seems to hoard everything from his past. I’ll need to go back to the loft and search but that can wait for a couple of hours.
First, I need to pick up where I left off in Laura’s diary.
It’s starting to get interesting and her story of what happened before she died is essential, if I’m to discover the truth.
I put away my notebook and head back inside the house, closing the front door silently behind me.
I hear voices whispering in the hallway.
When I hear my name mentioned, I stop and slide into the office doorway to listen.
“I overheard them talking over dinner.” Amy’s voice drifts toward me. “He hadn’t told her about Caroline.”
“Then we must make sure she doesn’t discover the entrance to the storeroom.” George clears his throat. “I’m not sure why Mr. Hunter brought all her things to this house. He is obsessed with his dead wives. It’s not healthy.” He sighs. “What else do you know?”
“She went to the left wing on the third floor as well.” Amy shifts her feet. “I don’t think she looked around too much. One thing is for sure: I’m not going up there to move anything. I doubt she’ll go back either. She got locked inside a room for a time and told Mr. Hunter she was terrified.”
“Good to know. It will keep her from snooping around.” George rests his hands on his hips. “I don’t want Mr. Hunter to end up with another unstable wife. Make sure you stay close to her and report back to me.”
“I’ll do my best.” Amy crosses her arms over her chest. “At least she’s not like Laura. She scared me.”
“She did most of the staff. Now get back to work.” George steps out into the hallway. “I’ll let Mr. Hunter know if she keeps snooping around.” He turns and his footsteps vanish into his office.
So, Amy and George can’t be trusted. Who else is spying on me and why does Jack need to be informed?
Did he tell them to watch me? Anger shimmers over me.
Does this mean I can’t trust my husband?
Why could I possibly be a threat to him?
What is so secret he has it locked away, where I can’t find it?
I need to do something about this right away.
I step out and head after George. “George, is that you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hunter.” He gives me a bright smile. “Did you enjoy the rose garden?”
I nod. “Yes, I did. It’s wonderful.” I meet his gaze. “Do you have your keys with you?”
“I do.” He narrows his gaze. “I thought Sue had a set cut for you?”
I smile. “She did. Do you know how many people have copies of the key to the third-floor door in the left wing?”
“Four of us, I believe: me, Sue, you and Mr. Hunter.” He frowns. “Is there a problem I should be aware of?”
I shake my head. It’s been a long time since Laura died but now, I need to be in charge of my house. “No. Not at all. Give me your key.”
“Why?” His neck grows red and his cheeks flush.
I look at him. “Because I’m Jack’s wife and, just like Laura, I’ll be overseeing the running of my house, George. I’m sure you understand. Please, give me your key.”
I wait with my hand palm up for him to give me the key. He looks uncomfortable and has trouble removing the key from the bunch. He eventually hands it over to me with reluctance.
“Thank you. That’s all for now.”
I need Sue’s key before she has time to make another copy.
Whatever is hidden on the third floor, I want to make sure nobody moves it—and where is the storeroom?
I dash back into the office and grab Jack’s keys and then run along the hallway and into the kitchen where I see George in deep conversation with Sue.
They stop talking abruptly the moment they see me.
“Ah, Sue. I need your key to the left-wing door.” I hold out my hand and wait for Sue to comply.
“How many keys do you need?” George peers at me with limpid eyes. “I was just asking Sue to give me hers so I could make a copy. I’ll need a key. What if there’s a fire?”
I take the key and slide it inside my pocket.
“Jack told me there’s no power in the left wing on the third floor so the chance of a fire would be minimal.
In any case, I’m here to open the door if needs be.
” I turn to Sue. “I see you’re busy. Send Amy to the office with a mug of coffee for me please and some cookies if you have any. ”
“Right away, Mrs. Hunter.” Sue turns to Amy. “You heard her.”
Keeping my head high, I walk out the door and go to the office.
Inside, I locate the blueprints and spread them over Jack’s desk.
Where are the storerooms? This house is huge and there will be storerooms all over, but where do I find a place that’s hidden?
I long to call Jack and ask him. Surely there’s a simple explanation but as more days go by in this house, I discover his open trustworthy facade hides a weave of deception.
I drop into the office chair, smell his cologne and my heart tears apart.
Why did he marry me and bring me here and then lie to me?
—no, not lie—he hasn’t lied to me yet. He just didn’t tell me everything.
A second dead wife is a big thing but I have things in my past I’d rather not discuss with him too.
Surely most married couples keep a few secrets—or maybe not.
I’m not experienced enough to know if this behavior in a husband is considered normal.
I glance up as Amy brings my large mug of coffee and sets it on a chest of drawers.
“Wait a minute.” I lean back in my chair staring at her, not too sure what to say.
“Who asked you to spy on me? Was it George or Mr. Hunter?” I see her stare at her shoes and fidget.
“I overheard you speaking with George so please tell me, I need to know.”
“Before you arrived, George told us that we mustn’t mention Caroline, Mr. Hunter’s first wife.” She lifts her gaze to me. “He said Mr. Hunter had made the request. He didn’t want you to know; he had all of Caroline’s possessions locked in the house along with her portrait. It’s as big as Laura’s.”
My mind reeling, I stare at her. “Caroline has a portrait too? Where did it come from? I mean, Jack didn’t own this house when he met Caroline and you’d need to own a mansion to place one of that size on the wall.
I didn’t figure Jack came into his fortune straight out of college although it’s not something we discuss. ”
“Oh.” Amy’s cheeks reddened. “It’s not for me to say, Mrs. Hunter.”
I glare at her. “If you know, spit it out.” I wait a few moments and then lean forward. “It’s no secret I’ve only known Jack for eight weeks. Yes, I married him after a whirlwind courtship but I didn’t know he had money.”
“I see.” Amy twists her fingers. “I can only tell you what I’ve been told and that is he inherited a fortune in stocks and property from his grandfather.
The company was started by his grandfather and, since his father has no head for business, everything went to Mr. Hunter. His father lives on a trust fund.”
Astounded that the help knows more about my husband’s finances than I do, I lean back in my chair. “So where is this storeroom?”
“I can’t tell you.” Amy avoids my gaze. “George says you’re not to go inside.”
I stand and lean on the desk. I want to tell her this is my house and I can go where I please but I figure she’ll shut down and say nothing.
Right now, I so want to fire her and George—maybe I’ll fire the entire staff.
I can’t trust any of them but firing them right now won’t get me anywhere.
“Point out where it is on the blueprints. Then he won’t know, will he? ”
I show her the blueprints. “Which floor?”
“The third floor in the right wing beside the ballroom.” Amy stares at the blueprints as I get the correct page and then she points.
“Right here. All the storage rooms are set into the wall, as in you can’t see a door.
They’re part of the design. No door handles, you just push on them and they pop open. ”
I trace the hallway with my finger and nod.
“Okay, and no more snooping on me. You’re not here to tell George everything I say to my husband.
Confidentiality is part of your job. If that’s a problem for you, I’ll find someone else to take your place.
” I move my gaze to her. “Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
“Yes.” Amy flees from the room, and her footsteps echo away along the hallway.
I roll up the blueprints and return them to the documents tube and then grab my mug from the bookcase and sit down to sip the coffee.
I nibble on the homemade cookies, savoring each delicious bite.
I don’t intend to go rushing to find the storage area just yet.
I’ll wait a bit and then go. I’m not sure why I gave Amy the chance to redeem herself when no doubt she is telling George everything that transpired between us.
This is the thing with trust. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.
I wait, listening for movement in the house, but hear nothing.
I stand and move to the door and peek outside.
There’s no one lurking around. I step back and facepalm my head.
Stupid, stupid woman. I’ve forgotten about the CCTV cameras.
I sit back at Jack’s desk and soon have his computer humming.
I scroll through the mountain of files and then go to the program files and search for cameras.
I find the software program for a security firm and then trace it to the correct files.
The program named Beauford Manor Security opens and the screen breaks into multiple images of areas of the house.
Right now, no one is in the hallways, so Amy has kept our conversation to herself.
I have no idea if George has access to the camera feed but I can’t risk him seeing me.
I’m no computer expert by any means but turning the cameras off and on is simple.
I turn off the cameras from the stairs all the way to the third floor.
A complete blackout. When I’m done, I’ll turn them back on.
I take a deep breath and head into the foyer, up the grand staircase as if heading for my bedroom and then continue up the stairs to the third floor.
This time I turn right and walk along a sumptuous hallway.
I open one side of a huge double door and peer inside.
A polished floor reflecting the light from a line of windows greets me.
There is a bandstand at one end, beautiful antique chaise longues in peacock blue silk along one side and chandeliers glitter along the center of the ceiling.
The drapes are blue velvet, tied back with gold ropes. “So, this is the ballroom.”
I close the door and walk along the passageway.
I find bathrooms suitable for several guests but can’t find the storeroom.
I keep walking to the end of the hallway and stare at the ornate carved oak wall panels.
I go to each one and press them. The third one along clicks and pops open.
I find a light switch beside the door and a white glow floods the room.
A small chest of drawers holds clothes and a jewelry box.
I see a photo album but the covered painting draws my attention.
I pull back the cover and stare at the face.
The young woman so lovingly portrayed has long blonde hair, cornflower blue eyes—and my face.