I recommend that each of you be extra careful. Until we figure out what we’re up against, everyone is a suspect. Watch your backs.”
Chapter Six
Caroline paused at the front door to the mansion. A sense of foreboding swept through her. She couldn’t shake the horror of Mitch being killed earlier today. She hadn’t really known the man, but he’d been there because of her. His death was her fault.
No. His death was not her fault. She had to stop blaming herself and putting herself down the way Richard had always done. The person to blame for Mitch’s death was whoever had stabbed him. She had to remember that. Richard had made her feel guilty for everything and had made her doubt her own sanity. No more. She was taking control of her own life, her own self-worth.
Still, she hesitated to go inside, in spite of the puzzled looks the security guards and Leslie were giving her. All she could picture in her mind was how strong and virile her husband had been. It was almost impossible to accept that he wasn’t going to greet her at the door. She could easily imagine his outrage over her being so late in coming home, over her trying to escape. Of course, in front of others, he’d pretend to be happy to see her. He’d likely kiss her and hold her close. But in private, once the bedroom doors shut, he’d be all too eager to teach her another “lesson.”
She shuddered and protectively wrapped her arms around her middle, although it wasn’t even slightly cold in the humid heat that engulfed the house.
Leslie put her hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
Caroline stared at the woman she thought of as her friend, looking for some sign that she really wasn’t her friend, that she might have had something to do with Richard’s murder as Alex and Luke had theorized.
“Caroline?” Leslie’s brows drew together.
“No, I’m not in pain.” Caroline hated that she had these doubts about the woman who’d done so much to help her. “I was just...thinking.”
One of the security guards opened the door and stood back for them to enter.
She braced herself, then stepped into the foyer with Leslie at her side, only to be greeted by three maids and the cook. Or rather, they greeted Leslie and ignored Caroline. Which was just as well because she didn’t want to deal with their red-rimmed eyes and sniffles. Richard was beloved by the staff, and it looked as if they were taking his death hard.
The security guards locked the door and melted into the house as they always did, somewhere out of sight but ready to help when needed—except, of course, when Caroline had really needed help, when Richard was around.
The household staff gathered around Leslie, whom they’d all met on numerous occasions, and offered her their condolences, completely ignoring their employer’s widow, who just so happened to now be their employer.
Suddenly it was all too much. The miscarriage, two severe beatings in two days, finally escaping Richard only to find him murdered, winding up in the hospital with sepsis and having emergency surgery, and then for young, innocent Mitch Brody to be killed at the cemetery—all of it had her nerves stretched to the snapping point.
Someone was either trying to kill her or pin her for murder. And after everything she’d been through, it was so unfair. Well, she wasn’t putting up with “unfair” anymore. She’d taken a huge step escaping Richard. Now it was time to take another huge step, to set her house in order. Because now this house was hers. Not Richard’s. Not the staff’s. And it was high time they treated her with the same respect they treated everyone else—starting now.
“Karen, Missy, Natasha, Betsy,” she said, enjoying the startled looks on the other women’s faces. They weren’t used to being addressed by her directly. They probably didn’t even think she knew their names. “I appreciate your condolences and that you all miss my husband, but life must go
Chapter Six
Caroline paused at the front door to the mansion. A sense of foreboding swept through her. She couldn’t shake the horror of Mitch being killed earlier today. She hadn’t really known the man, but he’d been there because of her. His death was her fault.
No. His death was not her fault. She had to stop blaming herself and putting herself down the way Richard had always done. The person to blame for Mitch’s death was whoever had stabbed him. She had to remember that. Richard had made her feel guilty for everything and had made her doubt her own sanity. No more. She was taking control of her own life, her own self-worth.
Still, she hesitated to go inside, in spite of the puzzled looks the security guards and Leslie were giving her. All she could picture in her mind was how strong and virile her husband had been. It was almost impossible to accept that he wasn’t going to greet her at the door. She could easily imagine his outrage over her being so late in coming home, over her trying to escape. Of course, in front of others, he’d pretend to be happy to see her. He’d likely kiss her and hold her close. But in private, once the bedroom doors shut, he’d be all too eager to teach her another “lesson.”
She shuddered and protectively wrapped her arms around her middle, although it wasn’t even slightly cold in the humid heat that engulfed the house.
Leslie put her hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
Caroline stared at the woman she thought of as her friend, looking for some sign that she really wasn’t her friend, that she might have had something to do with Richard’s murder as Alex and Luke had theorized.
“Caroline?” Leslie’s brows drew together.
“No, I’m not in pain.” Caroline hated that she had these doubts about the woman who’d done so much to help her. “I was just...thinking.”
One of the security guards opened the door and stood back for them to enter.
She braced herself, then stepped into the foyer with Leslie at her side, only to be greeted by three maids and the cook. Or rather, they greeted Leslie and ignored Caroline. Which was just as well because she didn’t want to deal with their red-rimmed eyes and sniffles. Richard was beloved by the staff, and it looked as if they were taking his death hard.
The security guards locked the door and melted into the house as they always did, somewhere out of sight but ready to help when needed—except, of course, when Caroline had really needed help, when Richard was around.
The household staff gathered around Leslie, whom they’d all met on numerous occasions, and offered her their condolences, completely ignoring their employer’s widow, who just so happened to now be their employer.
Suddenly it was all too much. The miscarriage, two severe beatings in two days, finally escaping Richard only to find him murdered, winding up in the hospital with sepsis and having emergency surgery, and then for young, innocent Mitch Brody to be killed at the cemetery—all of it had her nerves stretched to the snapping point.
Someone was either trying to kill her or pin her for murder. And after everything she’d been through, it was so unfair. Well, she wasn’t putting up with “unfair” anymore. She’d taken a huge step escaping Richard. Now it was time to take another huge step, to set her house in order. Because now this house was hers. Not Richard’s. Not the staff’s. And it was high time they treated her with the same respect they treated everyone else—starting now.
“Karen, Missy, Natasha, Betsy,” she said, enjoying the startled looks on the other women’s faces. They weren’t used to being addressed by her directly. They probably didn’t even think she knew their names. “I appreciate your condolences and that you all miss my husband, but life must go
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