5. Cassidy
Some signs are easy to ignore. The flashing clock on a microwave after the power goes out, begging you to set it to the right time. The beep on the refrigerator when you’ve been staring into its depths for too long trying to decide how best to eat your emotions.
But a woman stranded beside a smoking car on the side of a remote country road that leads to the same place I’m headed?
No way I can ignore that.
I mean, she’s waving at me and everything.
Universe, you’ve got my attention.
“Hey,” I call out as I stop behind the beat up Civic and stick my head out the window. “Car trouble?”
She’s already hurrying up to me, and I see frustration and forced civility warring on her face. “The stupid thing goes clank and just smoke, smoke, smoke,” she rambles in a faint accent, her hands gesturing wildly.
I get out, meeting her halfway. She must be in her late fifties with those strands of silver in the dark bun. And she has a really interesting fashion style, until I realize her gray overcoat and white apron are a uniform.
“Have you called someone?”
“Phone is dead.” Her mouth sets in a grumpy line. “They will fire me if I’m late.”
“It’s okay. This isn’t your fault.” My heart goes out to the woman. “How long have you been out here?”
She shrugs, taps her bare wrist. “No watch. Phone dead. Maybe an hour?”
“Okay, let’s call AA. Get you a tow.”
She nods, dropping her head and mumbling to herself in Spanish.
I give her a sympathetic purse of my lips as I wait for the call to connect. As soon as I get hold of someone and give them our location, I end the call.
“Cassidy.” I stick out my hand, and the woman reluctantly shakes it.
“Olivia. So? How long?”
“They said they’ll send someone as soon as they can.” I shrug. “I wish I could wait with you, but…”
She waves me away almost impatiently. “It’s fine. Go.” She heads back to her car, muttering under her breath again.
“Is there someone else I can call? Maybe to let them know you’ll be late?”
“I should probably call Shimmer and Shine,” she says, sounding utterly pissed at the thought. “They will think I’m lying.” Olivia looks off into the distance, sniffs. “I told them I don’t want to work here again. But it is not my choice. No work, no pay.”
“What about your client? Can we call him directly? He’ll understand.”
Olivia scoffs. “Oh, he does not like to be disturbed.” There’s a rueful laugh in her voice. “I will apologize when I get there. Maybe he doesn’t fire me.”
I follow her for a few steps. “What if I speak to him? I mean, this wasn’t your fault.”
I don’t know why I’m always so set on righting every injustice I encounter, but it pisses me off that anyone can be upset with this woman for something so blatantly out of her control. But most people are assholes, so I’m not even surprised.
She laughs. “Mr. Remington does not accept excuses.” She turns, shakes her head at me. “Last time I work for him, I break a cup and he yells at me for ten minutes.”
I blink at her in astonishment. “Ten minutes?” Then my brain lights up. “Wait…did you say, Remington? As in, Glenmont Manor’s Remington?”
Her eyes brighten conspiratorially. “Ah, you know Mr. Remington.” She chuckles mirthlessly. “Then you know he’s the devil.”
Thoughts race through my head.
This woman’s car breaks down, and I happen to drive by? And she’s on her way to the same place I am?
My eyes flicker over her uniform.
And here I was, panicking because I didn’t know what I would say when I got to Glenmont Manor. He’s already told a cop that he had no appointment with Rebecca Monroe. Why would he admit differently to me, even if I tell him I’m her daughter?
But what if I was there undercover? A maid would have access to the entire house…including Remington’s computer, maybe even his cellphone.
“Wait…you said your name was Olivia?”
The woman lifts her eyebrows at me like she’s wondering if I have short-term memory problems.
“I’m Cassidy.”
She frowns.
I touch my fingertips to my chest. “The trainee?”
Her frown intensifies. “Trainee?”
“Yes.” I nod emphatically. “Shimmer and Shine sent me. They said I can shadow you today, get the feel of things.” I knock my palm against my forehead. “I should have known when I saw the uniform.”
Olivia plucks at her apron’s lace trim. “Janice didn’t say anything.”
“No, well, maybe she tried to call? You said your phone was dead.”
Olivia opens her mouth, but I just carry on talking, willing her to believe every lie falling out of my mouth. “Janice said you might need a hand. Glenmont’s such a big place. And I need training, so…”
“It’s huge,” Olivia complains in a dark mutter. “Stairs everywhere. No elevator.” She glances away. “You try carry everything up and down those stairs all day.”
“This works out perfectly!” I wave her back to my car. “Come on, you can drive with me.”
Olivia’s eyes widen, and she clutches at the lapel of her overcoat. “I don’t drive around with strangers. That’s how people get murdered.”
I laugh uneasily. I’m trying not to get mad that Olivia has more common sense than half the population, but it’s difficult.
“You know what? You’re right. I wouldn’t get in a stranger’s car either, Olivia.” I tap a finger against my mouth. Then I send her an impish grin. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”
Olivia’s eyes narrow at my tone.
“What if I told you today was your lucky day?”