English Trifle (36 page)

Sadie went about preparing herself a breakfast of juice, scones—complete with clotted cream and strawberry jam—and a banana. She had just sat down on one of the stools by the butcher-block table in the kitchen when she heard the outside door begin to slowly open.

Sadie’s first reaction was instant, mind-numbing panic. No one was supposed to be here and though she was an adventurous girl, she was not in the mood for anymore surprises. Mustering all the courage she had left, she turned in her seat to see who it was—her mind conjuring the possibility that Austin had escaped and come back to the estate to kill them all.

But it wasn’t Austin. Instead a petite girl with Asian features stopped when she saw Sadie; the two women stared at each other across the kitchen.

“Lacy?” Sadie asked. Lacy had been dressed in black scrubs with a scarf over her head when Sadie had seen her two days ago. Today she wore jeans, with a white T-shirt underneath a formfitting buttoned-up vest. Her sleek black hair hung loose over her shoulders.

“Mrs. Hoffmiller,” Lacy said, coming to a stop. She didn’t seem as surprised to see Sadie as Sadie was to see her. “You’re still here.”

“We’re just leaving,” Sadie said, standing up from the table. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried.”

Lacy took a breath and then shrugged. “I’m okay,” she said. “I guess.” She looked around the room. “I need to talk to Aust—Lord Melcalfe, is he here?”

Sadie was quiet for a few moments. “He’s at the police station in Exeter,” she said.

Lacy’s eyes went even wider. “What?” she breathed.

“He’s been trying to call you,” Sadie said. “A lot has happened since you left. He admitted to the conspiracy against the earl. In fact, I think the police will want to talk to you.”

Lacy paled. “Me?” she asked. “Why?”

Sadie watched her for a moment. “You went running out of the estate and were romantically involved with Austin.” Sadie noticed the faint blush that colored the girl’s cheeks. “Everyone’s being questioned, so you’re not alone, but they’ll need your side of the story. The earl was being overmedicated and his nurse was murdered, that’s a pretty big deal.” By the last few words she noticed Lacy was looking decidedly pale. “Lacy?” Sadie asked, “are you okay?”

Lacy teetered slightly on her feet and Sadie hurried over to help the girl keep her balance. “Whoa,” she said, putting her hands on Lacy’s shoulders. “Sit down—I’m sorry, I should have eased you into that.”

“This is all my fault,” Lacy said, allowing Sadie to lead her to a stool by the table.

“No, it’s not your fault, sweetie,” Sadie assured her, moving to the sink to get Lacy a glass of water. She put it in front of the young woman and moved to the opposite side of the table so she could see Lacy’s face. “Everyone swears you didn’t know what was going on with the earl. But someone told you to run, didn’t they?”

Lacy closed her beautiful eyes slowly, then opened them again and stared at the cup, wrapping both hands around the glass as if relying on it to keep her upright. “I didn’t know,” Lacy said softly, shaking her head slightly. “Until John Henry told me Saturday morning, I didn’t know anything.”

“John Henry told you?” Sadie asked. “That morning?”

“We never really spoke to one another—well, he never spoke to anyone. But on Saturday he came through the kitchen on his way outside. His face was red but I couldn’t tell if he was angry exactly. I was cleaning up from lunch when he came back half an hour later. I thought he was on his way back upstairs, but he stopped in the middle of the kitchen and just stood there until I turned to see what he was doing. He told me everything.” She paused, and looked past Sadie’s shoulder, perhaps trying to find the naïve girl she’d been a few days earlier. “He said, ‘Lord Melcalfe did it all for you, ya know?’ I couldn’t believe it.” She looked back at Sadie. “I love Austin,” she said, and Sadie could tell she meant it even though the words hurt her. “I met him when he was at Oxford—a school I could never attend. I was a waitress, and pretty soon he was coming in every evening. After awhile he would wait for me outside and we’d talk in his car for hours. He wasn’t like the other rich people I’d met—and I’d met plenty. He was kind and confident and when we were together it was like we were our true selves. I know that probably doesn’t make sense, but . . . I fell in love with him, even though I knew it was likely the worst decision I could ever make. Our lives were too different and we both knew it would be a struggle for us to make it work.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before lifting the glass and taking a sip of water.

“But these last couple months,” Lacy said, “things have changed. I thought it was because the earl was sick that Austin was overwhelmed and worried about his family. He’s been distracted, short-tempered, and—just not himself. When John Henry told me the truth it all made sense.”

“John Henry was the one that warned you to run, wasn’t he?”

Lacy nodded. “He asked me to give a note to Liam, and said that if anything happened, I needed to get as far away from here as I could. I thought he was being dramatic, but—”

“The note,” Sadie said as a tingle raced down her spine. “You said he gave you a note?”

Lacy nodded.

“What did you do with it?” Sadie asked. Would Lacy have given it to Austin?

“I put it on the tea tray,” Lacy said. “That’s what we do with correspondence—put it on the tray.”

Oh, such a naïve little girl, Sadie thought. She just put it on the tray, where anyone could pick it up . . . Sadie paused.

Anyone?

“Lacy,” Sadie said, “did you see Austin on Saturday?”

Lacy shook her head. “No, he’d left to Exeter early that morning. I didn’t expect him back until after Liam left—he’d been avoiding Liam all week.”

“Grant said he saw Austin here that day—right before tea was served.”

Lacy pulled her delicate eyebrows together as if considering that, then she shook her head. “I talked to him on the phone around 4:00—while I was waiting for Grant to come fix the tea. Austin was going into a meeting with one the shopkeepers of one of the earl’s properties. He said he wouldn’t be back until half-past five at the soonest. Everything John Henry had told me was fresh in my mind—I was so confused, so scared. I told him we needed to talk when he got here.”

“Maybe he was lying about where he was,” Sadie said. “He could have called you from anywhere.”

“I heard the train,” Lacy said, looking up at Sadie. “The shop—Arnold’s Garage—it’s by the train station. Austin had to stop talking until the train passed because I couldn’t hear him.”

Sadie felt her heart rate begin to increase. If Austin had been in Exeter, he’d have been at least twenty minutes away at the time Grant claimed to have seen him. Sadie couldn’t even face the possibility that she could be wrong. “Grant said he saw him,” Sadie said, defending her position.

Lacy frowned slightly. “Grant?” she repeated, sounding surprised.

“What?” Sadie asked, feeling the anxiety take over. “What about Grant?”

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know how difficult everything has been for him, but he just hasn’t been the same since Essie died.”

~ ~ ~

Sadie felt the blood drain from her face as the words landed with a thud in her chest. “Died?” she fairly squeaked.

“It was such a tragic thing,” Lacy said. “I didn’t know her very well, having just come to Southgate. But I’d seen her drunk a time or two and it was horrible. She’d worked with the earl for a long time, and he’d been very patient with her—but it was getting out of hand. She’d stolen from him and disappeared for days at a time. We all hoped that Bethelridge would help her overcome her addiction, and we knew that if it didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to stay on at Southgate. Grant struggled with her leaving, though he was gracious in regard to the earl paying for treatment, but we all knew it was hard for him to see her go. When she left treatment, and then died in London a few weeks later, none of us thought Grant would come back.”

Sadie could barely breathe. She felt as if her mind were in a blender. She felt sick as Lacy continued. “He was gone for almost two weeks. He didn’t even tell us where he was or when the funeral would take place. Then he just came back one day, told the earl that he didn’t blame him for what had happened, and that he’d like to continue on at Southgate. The earl, of course, felt horrible, and didn’t hesitate to hire him on again. He offered to pay for the funeral expenses, but Grant said it was taken care of—that he just wanted to move forward. But he was never quite the same after that. He kept to himself and seemed to, I don’t know, move quieter, if that makes sense.” She looked back down at the glass in her hands. “I guess no one would be unaffected by something like that, would they?”

“No,” Sadie said numbly. “I guess not.” She glanced at the kitchen doors wondering where Breanna and Liam were. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Sadie had left Breanna in the room. She was sick to her stomach at the idea that she’d believed Grant so completely and then let him go. But Grant had been right about the safe and the conspiracy. And yet it was impossible to ignore that if Austin hadn’t been at Southgate like Grant said he was, and if Lacy had put the note from John Henry on the tea tray Grant was supposed to take up to Liam, and if Sadie found the note in Grant’s room . . .

“Mrs. Hoffmiller?”

Sadie looked at Lacy who was watching her.

“When I left, you said you would help me if you could.”

Sadie nodded, trying to push these new discoveries to the side so she could focus on this moment. “Of course.”

Lacy nodded, then leaned back so she could pull something out of her pocket. She put a ring on the table between them, staring at it for several seconds before looking at Sadie with tears in her eyes. “Will you see that Austin gets this back?” Her voice shook and Sadie’s own throat grew thick as she stared at the symbol of the future these two young people had hoped to share. “After I left I went to stay with a friend in Dover—Austin and I had gone there together in November.”

Guy Fawkes Day, Sadie summarized in her mind. Hadn’t Austin said he’d gone to Dover on holiday? And that when he’d come back his father had informed him of the earl’s stroke?

Lacy wiped at her eyes as she continued. “I left Southgate and went to Dover to think things through. I came to the conclusion that I don’t know this man.” Her voice was barely a whisper and a tear rolled down her cheek; she didn’t try to stop it. “The Austin Melcalfe I fell in love with was a good man. He was kind, and fair, and honest.” She paused for a breath. “The Austin Melcalfe I knew would never be part of a plan to hurt someone who had given him so much. He would never have lied to me about it, and he’d have known that if he did, I could never respect him, never share his life, never simply forgive him and move on.”

Sadie felt a strange desire to defend Austin, but she couldn’t do that in good conscience. She also noted that Austin had verified these exact things—that once Lacy knew of his deceit, she would not continue her relationship with him. It was exactly what Austin deserved, but her heart still ached for Lacy and the loss she was now mourning.

“I’m so sorry, Lacy,” she said, offering a sympathetic smile when the girl’s glance flickered up for a moment.

Lacy nodded. “I suppose I need to tell the police what I know,” she said. She pushed the ring toward Sadie. “But I can’t see Austin again. Will you see that he gets this, that he knows my decision, and that I don’t want him to contact me?”

Sadie nodded. “I will.” She reached across the table and put her hand over Lacy’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please don’t think this is your fault. You don’t deserve the burden that’s been set on your shoulders.”

Lacy nodded, but Sadie wondered if she would ever truly believe that she was not the one responsible for all that had happened. Lacy sniffed and wiped at the tears on her cheeks as she stood up. “Is there anyone specific I should talk to when I get to the police station?” Lacy asked.

“Inspector Kent,” Sadie said. She wanted to apologize again, but the thoughts about Grant were creeping forward again and the rock in her stomach was getting heavier. She needed to talk to Liam and Breanna—make sense of what she’d learned about Grant. She was hesitant to disregard everything he’d told her based on this discovery, but she couldn’t deny that every word of his “confession” was now suspect. And, according to Lacy, Austin couldn’t have been at the estate when John Henry was murdered. Lacy might not have drawn the same conclusion from their discussion, but Sadie certainly had. And if it wasn’t Austin, and Grant had lied to her . . .

“Thank you,” Lacy said with a nod. She headed for the door, while Sadie stared at the ring on the table. When the exterior door shut, she left the ring, and hurried to the drawer where she’d put the keys a few minutes earlier, then fairly ran for Grant’s room. There had to be a way she could confirm what Lacy had told her, but her heart was in her throat at the possibilities that were now reopened.

~ ~ ~

Grant’s room was exactly as Sadie remembered it, except that the toiletries were missing from the dresser. She scanned the room and her eyes fell on the nightstand. It was still locked and she took a few seconds to consider her options. After a cursory look for the key in the drawers of the dresser, she gave up on that possibility and took the more destructive choice. A few swift kicks with the heel of her shoe splintered the wood of the nightstand enough that she was able to pull out the drawer and put it on the bed. When she looked inside, she froze for a moment before reaching in and pulling out her notebook—the one that had gone missing from her and Breanna’s room yesterday. She’d forgotten all about it.

If Grant had taken the notebook, he would know what she and Breanna had discovered up to that point. She looked back at the stack of papers in his drawer, including several light green envelopes like the one she’d found marking the place in Grant’s book the day before.

The first letter she picked up had a postmark for January 6, which confused her. Today was New Year’s Day—five days before this postmark.