Read Online Baylin House (Cassandra Crowley Mystery) by L. J. Parker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L. J. Parker
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brought the police to Baylin House is not our business, and I
want you to stay completely out of it. Your job is to work on Rosalie’s
autobiography and nothing more. Absolutely nothing more! Is that
understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cassie answered carefully. “Understood.”
“And I’m not at all happy that you asked Rosalie for the
manuscript tonight.”
“Really, I . . !” Cassie barely caught herself.
“Yes, really, Cassandra! Your interaction with Rosalie will
be limited to the morning hours when she has had her rest and feels up to it. Do
not arrive before eight in the morning, and make sure to leave every afternoon
by two so Bea can take care of her afternoon medication. Do not bother Rosalie
for anything outside those hours, and do not ever ask her for anything like
that again.”
“But I thought you brought me here tonight specifically so I
could--”
“I took you over there so you could meet her . . . so she
would begin to feel comfortable with you and what you’ll need from her to earn
your paycheck. Not so you could badger her into--”
“Mrs. Kennelly, I’m sorry, but I didn’t badger Rosalie for
anything!” Cassie’s voice was louder in the confines of the car than she
intended.
But, dammit, she did not badger Rosalie Baylin! Rosalie had seemed
perfectly comfortable and didn’t hesitate to let Cassie take the manuscript. Why
was Dorothy so upset about it?
Cassie just could not take any more for one day. Her mood
grew worse by increasingly heavy traffic, and by the unmarked police car still riding
on their bumper. Cassie’s hands gripped the wheel so hard her fingers began to
cramp.
They drove in silence. Just short of the signal at Bayside
Boulevard Cassie began carefully working into the left turn lane; the
Detectives moved to the right, and finally turned away.
Cassie took a deep breath. “I do appreciate you making it
possible for me to meet Rosalie and get started right away, Mrs. Kennelly.”
“To meet her,” Dorothy growled.
Cassie grunted under her breath. “You created a schedule
that demands I not waste any precious minutes, not even today, so please
forgive me if I seem too eager to begin the work.”
Dorothy sniffed but she did not speak.
Cassie took another deep breath and sighed heavily. She was
sorry, but not enough to say it. She did deliberately bypass the Valet Lane,
and found space in self-parking fairly close to the north door.
As soon as she cut the engine, Dorothy climbed out of the Explorer
and marched to the hotel’s side entrance without a word.
Cassie stayed behind, taking time to gather her bag from the
back seat, and make sure the car doors were locked. Part of her wondered if she
should run to catch up and kiss Dorothy’s hand, and beg for her job back.
An even stronger part simply hugged her bag tighter, loving
the feel of its bulk because the job , Rosalie’s manuscript, was inside.
Slowing her pace even more, Cassie waited outside until
Dorothy Kennelly had marched all the way down the hall and stepped into the
elevator at the end, and the elevator door closed in front of her. She was gone
before Cassie entered the building.
There were two vending machines next to the elevator. Cassie
grabbed an ice cream bar from one of them and took it upstairs. Her stomach would
not handle any kind of meal tonight, but she needed something.
She ate sitting cross-legged in the middle of the extra bed,
reading and sorting pages from Rosalie’s envelope. Ninety-three pages so far,
typed in single-space lines – difficult reading anyway, and made worse because Rosalie’s
paragraphs ran long. Not one word that Cassie could see was about Rosalie’s
life before the day she found the house on Fullmer Street and began remodeling.
Cassie’s assignment, to extract details of something that took place before
Baylin House, was defined well enough by Dorothy. But it was going to take a
lot more than ‘filling in’, as she had described it.
When Cassie
want you to stay completely out of it. Your job is to work on Rosalie’s
autobiography and nothing more. Absolutely nothing more! Is that
understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cassie answered carefully. “Understood.”
“And I’m not at all happy that you asked Rosalie for the
manuscript tonight.”
“Really, I . . !” Cassie barely caught herself.
“Yes, really, Cassandra! Your interaction with Rosalie will
be limited to the morning hours when she has had her rest and feels up to it. Do
not arrive before eight in the morning, and make sure to leave every afternoon
by two so Bea can take care of her afternoon medication. Do not bother Rosalie
for anything outside those hours, and do not ever ask her for anything like
that again.”
“But I thought you brought me here tonight specifically so I
could--”
“I took you over there so you could meet her . . . so she
would begin to feel comfortable with you and what you’ll need from her to earn
your paycheck. Not so you could badger her into--”
“Mrs. Kennelly, I’m sorry, but I didn’t badger Rosalie for
anything!” Cassie’s voice was louder in the confines of the car than she
intended.
But, dammit, she did not badger Rosalie Baylin! Rosalie had seemed
perfectly comfortable and didn’t hesitate to let Cassie take the manuscript. Why
was Dorothy so upset about it?
Cassie just could not take any more for one day. Her mood
grew worse by increasingly heavy traffic, and by the unmarked police car still riding
on their bumper. Cassie’s hands gripped the wheel so hard her fingers began to
cramp.
They drove in silence. Just short of the signal at Bayside
Boulevard Cassie began carefully working into the left turn lane; the
Detectives moved to the right, and finally turned away.
Cassie took a deep breath. “I do appreciate you making it
possible for me to meet Rosalie and get started right away, Mrs. Kennelly.”
“To meet her,” Dorothy growled.
Cassie grunted under her breath. “You created a schedule
that demands I not waste any precious minutes, not even today, so please
forgive me if I seem too eager to begin the work.”
Dorothy sniffed but she did not speak.
Cassie took another deep breath and sighed heavily. She was
sorry, but not enough to say it. She did deliberately bypass the Valet Lane,
and found space in self-parking fairly close to the north door.
As soon as she cut the engine, Dorothy climbed out of the Explorer
and marched to the hotel’s side entrance without a word.
Cassie stayed behind, taking time to gather her bag from the
back seat, and make sure the car doors were locked. Part of her wondered if she
should run to catch up and kiss Dorothy’s hand, and beg for her job back.
An even stronger part simply hugged her bag tighter, loving
the feel of its bulk because the job , Rosalie’s manuscript, was inside.
Slowing her pace even more, Cassie waited outside until
Dorothy Kennelly had marched all the way down the hall and stepped into the
elevator at the end, and the elevator door closed in front of her. She was gone
before Cassie entered the building.
There were two vending machines next to the elevator. Cassie
grabbed an ice cream bar from one of them and took it upstairs. Her stomach would
not handle any kind of meal tonight, but she needed something.
She ate sitting cross-legged in the middle of the extra bed,
reading and sorting pages from Rosalie’s envelope. Ninety-three pages so far,
typed in single-space lines – difficult reading anyway, and made worse because Rosalie’s
paragraphs ran long. Not one word that Cassie could see was about Rosalie’s
life before the day she found the house on Fullmer Street and began remodeling.
Cassie’s assignment, to extract details of something that took place before
Baylin House, was defined well enough by Dorothy. But it was going to take a
lot more than ‘filling in’, as she had described it.
When Cassie
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