Wiped Out (8 page)

June's face contorted and tears leaked from her eyes. “Well, you can bet that I told them. I gave them an earful. I told them all about Rita and about Sally too. Guess those two hussies are happy now.”

At the sight of June's tears, Charlotte frowned. Maybe she'd been wrong about June. Maybe her offensive manner and probing questions were just her way of working through her grief for her friend.

June, evidently misinterpreting Charlotte's frown, nodded and said, “Yeah, they both finally got what they wanted. Rita finally got her revenge, and Sally won't have to worry about her stupid pool being shaded any more. I don't know how they did it—” She sniffed. “But I'd be willing to bet that one of them—either Rita or Sally—is to blame. They were both so jealous of Mimi that they couldn't see straight.” She shook her head. “Poor Mimi. She didn't deserve to die like that.”

Charlotte knew she should attempt to comfort June in some way, but the truth was, she really didn't like the woman very much.

Do unto others…
Charlotte suddenly felt like hanging her head in shame. After all, it was pretty obvious that the woman was truly grief stricken over losing her best friend.
Do right and you'll feel right.
The words of her pastor pricked at her conscience.

Charlotte forced herself to reach out and pat June on the back. “I truly am sorry for your loss,” she said.

June stiffened for a moment; then, she made a vague gesture with her hand. “It's not me so much,” she said, “but my heart breaks for Emma and Justin. And Gordon too, of course,” she added in a choked voice. She brushed away the tears with her fingers, sniffed, and then squared her shoulders. “Which reminds me, the kids—Emma and Justin—got in late last night. They're still asleep upstairs.”

Charlotte nodded. At least now she had an explanation for the mess in the kitchen.

“I thought I might make them some breakfast when they wake up.”

A sudden thought occurred to Charlotte, and she frowned. “Is Mr. Adams here too?”

June shook her head. “No, he left early around seven or so, but I'm sure he'll be back a little later on.” She pushed herself away from the cabinet. “Guess I'd better stop gabbing and let you get to work now. I'll be in the library if you need me. I've still got several calls to make to some out-of-town acquaintances whom Gordon wanted notified.”

 

Charlotte had cleaned the kitchen, and while the dishes washed, she'd dusted the parlor and dining room. She was back in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher when Emma and Justin Adams wandered in through the doorway.

Except for Emma's hair being blond—and Charlotte suspected it was bleached—she was almost the spitting image of her mother. Justin's hair was also blond, also bleached, she suspected, but the shape of his face and his eye color were completely different, so Charlotte decided that he must favor his father. Both were dressed in oversized T-shirts and lounging pants, probably the same clothes they'd slept in, Charlotte figured.

“Who are you?” Emma asked.

“Charlotte, Charlotte LaRue. I clean house for your parents. And you must be Emma, and—” She glanced over at Justin. “You must be Justin.”

The girl nodded. “Oh, yeah, I remember now. Mom mentioned that she'd hired a new maid.”

“I'm truly sorry for your loss,” Charlotte said softly.

“Th-thank you.” Tears welled in Emma's eyes, and she stumbled over to the table and slumped down into a chair. She scrubbed at her face with the heels of her palms and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. “I-I still can't be-believe sh-she's d-dead,” she cried.

Justin rushed to his sister's side. “Aw, come on, Em.” He knelt down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.

June suddenly appeared in the doorway. “What's going on in here?” She took one look at Justin and Emma, sighed, pressed her lips together in a sign of pique, and then marched over to the table. “Now, Emma, you're going to have to get hold of yourself. Your father is counting on you.”

Emma jerked her head around to glare at June. “In case you haven't noticed, my father isn't here at the moment. And even if he were,
he
would understand.”

Justin gave his sister one last squeeze, then stood up. “Em can cry if she wants to,” he told June. When June's only response was to tighten her lips even more, Justin shifted his gaze to Charlotte. “Is there anything here to eat? I mean, I know you're not a cook, but I just thought…” His voice trailed away in embarrassment.

Charlotte smiled at him. “It's okay, hon, I know what you meant. I'll check—”

“I had planned to fix breakfast,” June interrupted. To Justin she said, “Your father asked me to look after you two until he gets home.”

Justin shrugged. “You don't have to do that. Cereal is okay. There's probably some in the pantry. Mom always kept some for when we come home.”

“Nonsense,” June said sternly. “Growing boys and girls need a good hearty breakfast.” She walked purposefully to the refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs, a package of bacon, and butter.

Emma cleared her throat. “We're not exactly boys and girls any longer,” she said. “And we can take care of ourselves.”

June slammed a container of orange juice onto the counter, then faced Emma. “It was just a figure of speech, Emma.”

“Well, excuse me,” Emma shot back.

June and Emma glared at each other, but after several tense moments, June was the first to break the deadlock. With a put-upon sigh, she turned her back to Emma, opened the cabinet, and took out a small bowl. She cracked an egg and dumped it into the bowl, then reached for another egg. “I'm making breakfast,” she announced, her no-nonsense tone indicating that it was not up for debate.

Charlotte had just put away the last glass from the dishwasher, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Justin wink at his sister. With a smirk, Emma rolled her eyes.

Time to get out of the kitchen, Charlotte decided. Besides, two women working in the kitchen were one too many, especially when one of them was June. Maybe now would be a good time to clean the bedrooms. “I'll be cleaning upstairs if anyone needs me,” she said, as she closed the dishwasher door.

“By the way, where is Dad this morning?” Emma asked June, as Charlotte walked briskly toward the doorway. “You'd think that for once, especially today, he could stay home,” she added.

“Now, Emma, your father is an important man. He…”

June's voice faded as Charlotte climbed the stairs, and she wondered what kind of excuse June was making for Gordon.

Charlotte's heart ached for Emma and Justin. In her opinion, no excuse was good enough for their father being absent when they needed him. From personal experience, she knew how devastating it was to lose a parent—she'd lost both of hers in a fatal airplane crash. For her, there had been no one she could turn to and no time to grieve. Instead, she'd been left with the total responsibility of caring for her sister, Madeline, then only fifteen, as well as Hank, who had been a toddler at the time.

Emma and Justin deserved to grieve, and they deserved more from their father. Gordon was the one who should have been there lending comfort, not his wife's best friend and certainly not the maid, a complete stranger whom neither of his children had ever met. It was no wonder that Emma seemed so resentful of June. But being resentful was no excuse for bad manners. After all, June was just trying to help.

Once upstairs, Charlotte decided that she should probably clean Justin's and Emma's rooms first. After a quick inspection of both rooms, she found that neither was really that dirty, just cluttered.

She had cleaned Justin's room and had just finished scrubbing the shower in Emma's bathroom when the girl stuck her head through the doorway.

“Hey, Charlotte,” she said. “Just in case my father calls, Justin and I are going out for a while.” She heaved her suitcase up on the bed, unzipped it, and began rummaging through it.

Charlotte scooped up her cleaning supplies and said, “If you have any clothes that need washing, I'll be happy to do that for you.”

“Oh, wow, thanks, Charlotte.” Emma began pulling different items out of the suitcase. “Actually just about everything I have is dirty.”

Maybe the girl's manners were better than she'd thought, Charlotte decided. As for her attitude toward June…

Mind your own business.
With a sigh, Charlotte placed the cleaning supplies into her supply carrier and set it outside in the hallway. Once she'd gathered up Emma's dirty clothes, she left the room and headed downstairs.

As she passed through the kitchen on her way to the laundry room, she noticed that June was still sitting at the table finishing up a cup of coffee and staring out the window into the backyard. There were dirty dishes still half full of eggs, bacon, and toast on the table, and a greasy frying pan had been left on the stovetop. A partial loaf of bread, the carton of eggs, and a tub of butter, along with a container of orange juice, were still sitting on the cabinet.

Charlotte grimaced but kept walking. A fat lot of good it had done her to clean the kitchen, she grumbled silently, as she went into the laundry room. After dropping the clothes on the floor, she turned on the washing machine and added detergent. Now she'd have to clean it all over again. And, from the looks of things, a lot of good it had done June to insist on cooking breakfast. Next time maybe June would listen, and Charlotte vowed that next time she'd be sure to clean the kitchen last, especially if June was around.

“Charlotte—”

Charlotte jumped at the unexpected sound of June's voice just behind her. With the washing machine filling with water, she hadn't heard her approach.

“Sorry,” June said. “I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be in the library if anyone calls or comes by. And the kids will be out for a while. They're meeting some friends for lunch.”

Charlotte simply nodded and didn't bother to tell June that Emma had already told her the same thing.

Charlotte finished loading the washing machine, then went into the kitchen. Still miffed about having to clean it up again, she began clearing off the table. Just as she loaded the last dirty dish into the dishwasher, she heard Emma and Justin on the stairs.

“June, we're leaving now,” she heard Justin call out, and within seconds, they entered the kitchen.

“See you later, Charlotte,” Emma said as she and her brother walked through on their way out the back door. “And thanks again for doing my clothes,” she called over her shoulder.

“You're welcome,” Charlotte responded, giving the girl a maternal smile.

The back door slammed, and Charlotte began the task of cleaning the stovetop once more.

 

The kitchen was finally sparkling clean…again. Charlotte stood by the sink and was casting an eagle eye over the room to make sure she'd done everything when she heard a rattling noise at the back door. Charlotte went stone still. When she heard the door open and then close, she frowned. It was too early for Emma and Justin to have returned already. Maybe they forgot something.

Then Charlotte heard footsteps…deliberate, heavy footsteps that could only belong to a man, and warning bells went off in her head.

T
he minute the tall man strolled into the kitchen, there was no denying that he had to be Gordon Adams. The resemblance between the man and Justin was just too amazing for him to be anyone else.

The man nodded at Charlotte, then stuck out his hand. “You must be Charlotte,” he said, his voice deep and mellow.

Charlotte released her pent-up breath, forced a smile, and shook his hand. “Yes-yes, I am, and you must be Gordon Adams. I'm truly sorry about Mimi. She was a nice lady.”

“Thank you, and thanks for agreeing to come in today.” He released her hand and glanced toward the hallway door. “So, where is everyone?” His forehead wrinkled with a frown.

“Justin and Emma went out,” Charlotte said. “I believe they were meeting some friends for lunch.”

Gordon nodded. “Good. I've been really worried about them, especially Emma. I was afraid I'd find them just moping around the house.” He paused a moment, then said, “Is June still here?”

Charlotte nodded. “I think she's in the library.”

At that moment, June strolled into the room. “Did I hear someone mention my name?” She abruptly stopped just inside the doorway. “Why, Gordon, what are you doing home so early? I didn't expect you until lunchtime.”

“I heard that the police were looking for me, and I thought I'd better be here in case they showed up.”

“The police?”

Gordon nodded. “Have they been here yet?”

“Why, no—no, they haven't. But why on earth would they be looking for you now?”

Gordon didn't answer immediately, and Charlotte suddenly felt like a fifth wheel, just standing and staring at the two of them. The last thing she wanted was to appear to be eavesdropping. But after only a brief battle between her curiosity and her common sense, her curiosity won out, so she turned her back to both Gordon and June, and began scrubbing the sink…again.

Behind her, she heard the scrape of a chair. Then Gordon said, “Is there any coffee left?”

June's shoes clicked against the floor as she came farther into the room. “Not much,” June told him. “It's old, though, but I'm sure Charlotte won't mind making up a fresh pot, will you, Charlotte?” she asked.

Not a please or a thank-you, or kiss my foot. Forcing a smile, Charlotte turned her head and said, “No, not at all.” Grudgingly, she rinsed and dried her hands, then began to prepare the coffeepot.

“Now, what's this about the police?” June asked Gordon.

“My lawyer called,” Gordon explained. “He said that the coroner finally finished the autopsy on Mimi, and they've released her body to the mortuary. It was poison alright, a poison called hyoscyamine. Seems it's found in a plant called jimsonweed, whatever the hell that is. But that's not the worst. Chris—he's my lawyer—tells me that I can expect a visit from the police again. He says that, more than likely, they'll consider me their main suspect.”

“Why, that's outrageous!” June cried. “That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard of.”

“Yeah, well, Chris says it isn't that uncommon. He says that in a homicide, the spouse is always a suspect.”

“Common or not, I still say it's outrageous. But, Gordon, this Chris, is he a good attorney—I mean, you know—a good
criminal
attorney? Not that I'm insinuating you're a criminal,” she added hastily, “only that you really need the very best there is for something like this.”

“No, Chris is a corporate attorney, but he's part of a big firm and has an associate who specializes in criminal law. Daniel something or another is his name.”

Charlotte's hand froze in midair as she reached to switch on the coffeepot.
Daniel?
Surely he wasn't talking about her nephew,
her
Daniel.

There you go again, jumping to conclusions
.

Charlotte grimaced and switched on the coffeepot. There were probably lots of attorneys named Daniel.

Behind Charlotte, June made a sympathetic noise, a hum that dipped to a lower octave, then lifted to a higher octave. “I'm sure everything will be just fine,” she reassured Gordon.

“Yeah, well, I hope so,” he said. “Since they've released Mimi's body, I've decided to hold the funeral on Saturday afternoon. I have an appointment after lunch today with the funeral director to go over the plans for the service.”

Charlotte figured she'd heard all she was going to hear about what the police were doing. She still had work to do upstairs, and since the coffeepot was gurgling, she quietly left the room.

Just as Charlotte neared the doorway leading into the hall, she heard June say, “You really shouldn't go to the funeral home by yourself. Why don't I go with you? But first I'm going to make sure you eat a good lunch. I'd planned on cooking a roast. That way, you and the kids will have some leftovers this evening.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. Another mess in the kitchen.

 

It was almost three-thirty that afternoon when Charlotte began to pack her cleaning supplies so she could leave. Everyone was still gone, and the house was quiet.

The police never had showed up. Gordon had been mainly concerned that they would show up when Emma and Justin were there, but since the kids were gone, Gordon and June had decided to go on to the funeral home after they'd eaten lunch.

Charlotte had just wedged the last of her supplies, a bottle of lemon oil, into the supply carrier when the bang, bang, bang of the door knocker echoed throughout the house.

“Now what?” she complained. As she marched out of the kitchen and down the hallway, she figured it would be just her luck for the police to show up while she was still there.

Charlotte half expected to find Brian Lee and Judith standing on the porch. She threw the dead bolt. At the thought of her niece, she suddenly remembered that she never had called her to tell her about Mimi's lunch with Gordon.

She pulled the door open. When she saw the middle-aged, attractive blond-haired woman standing in the doorway instead, she smiled at the woman and asked, “May I help you?”

“You must be Charlotte, from Maid-for-a-Day.”

“Yes, I am,” Charlotte responded, wondering how this stranger knew who she was.

“I'm Sally Lawson, the next-door neighbor.” She motioned toward the right side of the house.

Sally Lawson, the tree killer. According to June, she was possibly Mimi's murderer as well.

Charlotte's smile faded.

Sally Lawson bent down, and for the first time, Charlotte noticed that there was a picnic basket at her feet. When Sally picked up the basket and held it out to Charlotte, a wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread drifted up from the basket. “This is some food for Gordon and the kids,” Sally said. “Just a little something for their dinner tonight.”

Mimi had been poisoned…more than likely by something she'd eaten or drank.

Don't be silly. The woman would be really stupid to poison the whole family. And, besides, why would she do such a thing to begin with?

Charlotte swallowed hard and took the basket. “That's really nice of you,” she said.

Sally shrugged away the compliment. “It's the least I could do. Is Gordon here, or the kids? I'd like to express my condolences.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, they're not in at the moment—sorry—but I'm sure they'll be grateful for such a thoughtful gesture.”

“Maybe I should leave a note then,” Sally said. “If I could just borrow some paper and a pen, then I wouldn't have to disturb you again.”

“Of course,” Charlotte told her. “Just follow me.”

Once in the kitchen, Charlotte set the basket on top of the cabinet and handed Sally Lawson the notepad and pen that were kept by the telephone.

“Is there anything in here that needs refrigeration?” Charlotte asked.

Sally nodded. “Yes, everything but the bread. And by the way, none of the containers need to be returned. They're all disposable.”

The refrigerator was full, and it took Charlotte several minutes to rearrange the contents in order to accommodate the food that Sally had brought. While Charlotte rearranged the food, Sally sat at the table and scribbled a note.

Even after Sally had finished the note, she continued to sit at the table and watch as Charlotte transferred the dishes of food from the basket into the refrigerator.

“You know I really admired Mimi,” Sally said. “She was so generous with her time and money, always heading up some type of charity event. And such a beautiful woman—always dressed to the nines and every hair in place.” She slowly shook her head. “I still can't believe she's gone. And I still haven't figured out why the police came around to question me. We were neighbors, but it's not as if Mimi and I were the best of friends or anything. And with those high shrubs between our two houses, I sure can't tell what's going on over here.” She paused thoughtfully.

Charlotte closed the refrigerator door. “My understanding is that the police are questioning everyone even remotely connected to the Adamses,” Charlotte told her.

“I suppose so,” Sally murmured. “And don't get me wrong. I wouldn't have minded being friends with her, especially with us living right next door to each other.”

Sally paused briefly again, and Charlotte waited patiently when she didn't make a move to leave. From the look on Sally's face, Charlotte could tell she still had more she wanted to say.

Finally, with a sigh, Sally went on. “I tried for a while—to be friends, that is—but Mimi was always a bit standoffish.”

As Sally spoke, Charlotte studied her. She seemed genuinely distressed, and contrary to what Mimi had led her to believe, Sally seemed like a nice lady, at least on the surface anyway. Yes, she decided, a nice lady, but perhaps a lonely lady as well. Why else would she be confiding in a maid, a complete stranger?

Though Charlotte wasn't sure exactly how to respond to Sally, she still felt like she needed to respond in some way. “Well, like you said,” she finally commented, “Mimi was involved in a lot of charity events. Maybe she just didn't have a lot of time to make friends.”

Sally shrugged. “I guess, and you're sweet to say so, but I really think she simply didn't like me for some reason.” She shrugged again. “At first I thought she was jealous of my past friendship with Gordon. He and I go back a long way. Our families were friends. Of course, when he married Mimi, our friendship more or less ended. But I also wondered if it had something to do with the fact that I didn't join her garden club.”

A sad little smile pulled at Sally's lips. “But why on earth would I want to join a garden club? It's like I told her, I don't know beans about flowers and plants—no pun intended. And I honestly don't think she did either. I never could understand how she could head up a garden club.

“It really is ironic if you think about it,” Sally continued. “Mimi has all of these lovely plants inside and outside, yet she didn't seem to know much about them at all. The previous owners of the house planted most of the plants, especially the ones outside. But between you and me, I always suspected that her gardener was the real expert. I don't mean to speak ill of the dead or anything, but she couldn't even get a silly tree to grow. Why, just in the past year alone she planted two in the same spot and both of them died. If you ask me, I think she overwatered the silly things—drowned them.” Sally paused and stared with unseeing eyes into space.

Two sides to every story.
After hearing Mimi's complaints about Sally, Charlotte had wondered about Sally's side, and now that she'd heard Sally's side of the issue, Charlotte was thoroughly confused. Sally's version didn't even vaguely resemble what Mimi had told her. So which version was the truth?

“You know,” Sally said, interrupting Charlotte's thoughts, “this is the first time I've been in this house since Mimi and Gordon moved in.” She glanced around the room. “This really is a beautiful old home, and Mimi had impeccable taste.”

Sally suddenly frowned when her gaze took in Charlotte's supply carrier and vacuum cleaner sitting near the cabinet. “Oh, my goodness, I'll bet you were leaving, and here I am rattling on and on.” She stood and handed the notepad and pen to Charlotte. “Thanks for listening, though.” She motioned toward the picnic basket. “I hope Gordon and the kids can use the food. I just felt like I needed to do something to help them out, for old times sake.”

Sally's mouth suddenly twisted into a disapproving grimace. “Of course, I'm sure June Bryant has been more than eager to see that Gordon and his kids are well taken care of.” She let out a put-upon sigh. Then, as if realizing how what she'd said must have sounded, she quickly added, “Of course, June was one of Mimi's best friends, so naturally she'd want to do all she can.” She gave Charlotte a quick fake smile. “Like I said before, I just wanted to express my condolences.”

 

When Charlotte packed up her van to leave the Adams's house, the rain had finally let up and the sun was out. But the resulting heat and humidity were brutal. The moment Charlotte opened the van door, a rush of pent-up heat assaulted her, and as she settled into the driver's seat, she rolled down all of the windows and switched the air-conditioner on high. Even with the windows down and the air-conditioner blowing, the inside of the van was still like an oven.

As Charlotte drove home, she kept reliving the conversation she'd had with Sally Lawson. First there had been Sally's remarks about Mimi's lack of gardening abilities, then the snide inference about June. But if Sally and Mimi weren't that friendly and, as Sally had pointed out, the high shrubs obstructed her view of the Adams's house, then how did Sally seem to know so much about Mimi's lack of gardening skills?