English Trifle Page 8

  They continued sharing suspicions for another fifteen minutes before running out of ideas. As Sadie had feared in the beginning, they didn’t know many specifics.

  “Maybe the butler did it?” Breanna said, with a wry smile. “Isn’t that how it usually works in those mystery novels?”

  “Actually,” Sadie said, wriggling a little bit—she loved knowing details other people didn’t—“the butler doesn’t do it—it’s cliché. The butler makes an ideal suspect due to his intimate knowledge of the house, but very rarely is he actually guilty—mostly because he has no motive. Being a butler is a highly respected position in a household, and they have to be absolutely trustworthy in order to hold so much power.”

  Breanna looked at her incredulously. “O-kay,” she said with sarcastic emphasis. “I’m totally creeped out that you know that, but there isn’t much that points to Grant anyway, other than him being conveniently missing during the time we needed help—but everyone was conveniently missing during that time anyway.”

  “Exactly,” Sadie said. “That’s not to say that he doesn’t deserve the same scrutiny anyone else gets—but I’m just saying.”

  “Duly noted,” Breanna said. She glanced toward the door. They hadn’t been there too long, but knowing that important things were taking place downstairs made the time seem longer.

  “Do you think the inspector is finished yet?” Sadie asked, then hurried to add, “Or perhaps I should just call him a recorder since that’s his official title.” She shook her head, then peered over the pad of paper. “Did you write about someone telling him that we couldn’t be trusted?”

  “Yes,” Breanna said, nodding as she placed the tip of her pen on the line where she’d written about it. “So, now what?”

  “I think we need to talk to Mrs. Land,” Sadie said. “She’s lying.”

  “But do you think she’ll tell us anything just because we ask?”

  Sadie nodded as she went back to her bag and looked for her recipe journal. It took only a few seconds and she held it up triumphantly. “She’ll have no choice.”

  Breanna looked at the book with a doubtful expression on her face. “Because you’re armed with your recipe book?”

  “No, because the woman lost her kitchen help and has a houseful of people—some she expected would be gone today—that she still has to cook for. Not to mention the fact that she’s spent the last hour and a half dealing with all this. It’s after six, so there is no way she has time to get dinner on the table by eight if she’s doing it all by herself, which means she’s likely to be running around crazy about now.”

  “Austin said you weren’t allowed in the kitchen,” Breanna reminded her. Sadie could see her hesitation. It was one thing to make a list, quite another for Breanna to break the rules—a drawback for being such a good girl, Sadie supposed. She hoped Breanna could make some exceptions to her internal codes of right and wrong—it had been her idea to start looking into things, after all.

  “Austin not wanting us in the kitchen is just one more reason why that’s exactly where we need to be.” She looked at Breanna strongly before she bent over to take off her shoes. Once her shoes were off, she padded to her suitcase and removed her orange Crocs—they were so comfy and since she expected to be on her feet for the next couple of hours, they were exactly what she needed. She slipped her feet into the spongy goodness and made eye contact with Breanna again. “Of everyone we have met, talked to, and dealt with, who is it that stands out in your mind as the most suspicious?”

  “Mrs. Land,” Breanna said, giving Sadie a half smile that indicated she knew very well that wasn’t the answer Sadie was looking for.

  “Okay, other than Mrs. Land,” Sadie prodded.

  “Fine,” Breanna said with resignation. “Austin.”

  “Exactly,” Sadie said with a triumphant nod of approval, going back to her suitcase for a few more necessities: her favorite apron, some lip balm, and her jogging whistle—just in case. On second thought, she put the apron back, not wanting to alert anyone to her destination before she arrived. The lip balm and whistle, however, went into her pocket while she continued explaining herself. “He shows up halfway through the explanation but knows everything that’s happened, he’s ordering people around, doubts your intentions with Liam, and is as hard and gloomy as a man ever was. Someone told the inspector we were lying and he’s just the person who could influence the staff to go along with his deceit, not to mention he’s the one who showed the inspector around the sitting room and could have given him an earful. I know he’s Liam’s cousin or whatever, but he’s hiding something and he doesn’t want us anywhere near it.”

  “Well, it’s hard to argue with that,” Breanna said, though she still seemed hesitant. She glanced at her watch. “We better hurry if we’re really hoping to help with dinner,” she said.

  Sadie smiled, and waved Breanna toward the door. “After you.”

  Chapter 11

  ~

  I don’t think we need to be quite so covert,” Breanna said while Sadie pressed herself against the wall as they made their way toward the top of the stairs. Breanna walked a few feet behind her mother in the center of the hallway, not using any stealth at all.

  “If Austin finds us, we’re done for,” Sadie said, moving slow enough to adequately see ahead but quick enough to make good progress.

  “If Austin finds us, we come up with an excuse for being where we are—we can tell him we’re hungry and want some more scones or something. If he finds us hugging the walls, he might suspect we’re up to something.”

  Sometimes Breanna had no sense of adventure. “No matter what excuse we use, he’ll stop us. We can’t afford that to happen.”

  “Aren’t there other staircases and servant entrances?” Breanna asked. “English movies always show a billion of ’em. Maybe we can find one and not have to go down the main stairs.”

  It’s a valid thought, Sadie admitted to herself. But she knew exactly where the kitchen entrance was under the stairs and couldn’t help but think that was the fastest way down—plus, Mrs. Land might suspect Sadie’s motives if she showed up from another direction. Mostly, however, Sadie didn’t want to waste time looking around and chancing getting lost. “This will be faster,” she explained, scanning the way before them as they approached the stairs.

  “Do you really think she’ll tell us anything?” Breanna asked.

  Sadie crouched lower so as to be better hidden by the seating area at the top of the stairs. “Well, the trick to getting her to talk is that we’re not going to ask about John Henry at all,” Sadie explained. “If we come right out and ask about him, she’ll clam up—I’m sure of it. But there are plenty of other questions that need asking. People give themselves away even when talking about something else.”

  “I really think we should stay in our room like Austin asked,” Breanna said. “Or maybe we should talk to Liam about all this first.”

  Sadie gave her daughter a withering look. If she didn’t know Breanna was adopted, she’d have certainly guessed it now. Still, having been raised by Sadie, one would think the girl would have developed a little more appetite for adventure. “I thought you wanted to figure things out?” Sadie asked, exasperated by her daughter’s changing moods. She respected the fact that Breanna was under a lot of pressure, but having such an apprehensive sidekick wasn’t easy.

  “I do want to figure things out,” Breanna said with a slight shrug. “By putting our heads together and then talking to Liam—I’m even okay with us grilling Mrs. Land. But I’m not such a fan of sneaking around the estate like cat burglars.”

  “We put our heads together already and didn’t come up with much except for several ‘people of interest.’ The only way to learn more about what’s happening here is to start asking questions. We’ll learn nothing just sitting in the room.” She straightened as an idea came to mind. She looked back down the hallway from the direction they’d come. “I just had a thought: what if they bugged our
room? We should have checked—they could be on to us.”

  Breanna closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath. Then she opened them and gave her mother a hard look. “Why would they bug our room?”

  “Why would they move the body?” Sadie challenged.

  “Um, maybe so no one would find it and they could tell the cops we had both lost our minds so no one would wonder ‘whodunit’?”

  Sadie placed her hand on Breanna’s arm and smiled. “Exactly.” She turned away from her daughter’s expression, peering ahead and staying close to the wall. “If you want to stay in the room, that’s fine,” she said, using reverse psychology—at least she thought that was what she was doing, she wasn’t sure if she really understood the term. “But if the deranged murderer comes by and stabs you through the heart with another poker because we didn’t do everything we could to get to the bottom of this, don’t come crying to me.”

  “I guess I couldn’t come crying to you, seeing as how I’d be dead and all. But I’m glad to know that my murder would at least give you the satisfaction of being able to say you were right.”

  She made it sound so heartless when she said it like that. Sadie was trying to think of a way to soften her statement when she heard voices. She reached out and grabbed Breanna’s hand, pulling her to the wall where she crouched down behind a chair set in an alcove at the top of the stairs. They had reached the landing of the staircase where the two wings connected, and could easily be spotted now that they were out of the shadows of the west wing. Luckily Breanna gave up the role of difficult daughter long enough to squeeze in behind Sadie. It took a little maneuvering, but Sadie was able to position herself so that she could see down the hall of the west wing, toward where the family rooms were housed. The voices came toward them, becoming clearer as they got closer.

  “ . . . doesn’t make any sense why he’s not here,” the voice said. Sadie didn’t know who it belonged to.

  “He simply ran an errand, of course,” the answering voice said. This one Sadie thought sounded like Grant.

  “And left the earl unattended? He’s never done that before. Not without telling someone. The man hasn’t taken a day off in weeks.”

  Grant came into view, and when the other man appeared a moment later, Sadie recognized him as Kevin—the driver that was supposed to take Breanna and her to the airport. He’d been in the library when Liam had tried to question the staff.

  Grant turned at the top of the stairs to face the driver. “You honestly believe that someone stabbed him with a poker in the sitting room? Really, Kevin, I’d be less surprised if the Queen herself asked me to take her skydiving.” He began making his way down the stairs; Kevin hesitated. “Austin wants the Hoffmillers taken to London tomorrow morning,” Grant continued. “Probably around nine o’clock. Can you be back by then?”

  “Well, sure,” Kevin said, though he didn’t sound as if he were content with the answers he’d received. “But I still can’t figure

  out . . .”

  Whatever else was said was lost as Kevin hurried forward and the two men disappeared down the stairs. After assuring herself that the coast was clear, Sadie straightened and moved forward again, taking careful steps with Breanna right behind her. At the top of the stairs, Sadie ducked to look through the rungs of the stairway banister, scanning the foyer below. Grant and Kevin disappeared through the front door. She didn’t see anyone else, but didn’t want to be hasty. Too bad she didn’t have a Marauder’s Map like Harry Potter. It would definitely come in handy to know where everyone in the household was right now. Then she’d know when the coast was truly clear. An invisibility cloak would be nice too, but she didn’t want to seem greedy by wishing for both.

  “Breanna? Sadie? What are you doing?”

  Sadie sprung up and back, almost knocking over a table; she grabbed it in hopes of steadying herself as she looked around. Liam stood a few feet away, as if he’d just exited the east wing himself. Sadie chastised herself for doing what every idiot detective did in those tongue-in-cheek mysteries: only looking ahead, never checking the rear. Pathetic.

  Breanna, who hadn’t been crouching at all, didn’t immediately move toward Liam, reminding Sadie that they weren’t “together” anymore.

  “Austin said you were staying in your room until dinner,” he said, looking between them. Did she detect a bit of a reprimand in his look?

  Sadie glanced at Breanna. She couldn’t remember the excuse they’d come up with. After a couple of seconds, Breanna spoke up. “Um, well, Mom wanted to go to the kitchen to—”

  “Have a scone,” Sadie said, pronouncing it correctly and giving Breanna a strong look to communicate that she was not to abandon the game plan. She didn’t know for sure if Breanna was about to give up, but didn’t want to chance it. She had little doubt that Liam would be less than excited about their wanting to talk to Mrs. Land. “I’m simply starving and thought I could sneak in there for a bite or two. I’m not used to such late dinners.” Of course they had high tea in the afternoon that helped with that, and Sadie had eaten three scones a couple hours ago, not to mention the cookies in the library, but she still needed an excuse to go to the kitchen.

  “Let me ring for Grant, then, he’ll bring up a tray.”

  “No, no, no,” Sadie said. Realizing she’d come across far more indignant than she ought to, she forced a smile. “I mean, it’s been such a trying afternoon for everyone, I hate to bother them. I’ll just run down quickly and then return to my room. No need to bother anyone.”

  That pained expression returned to Liam’s face. She could sense that he was only a few internal arguments away from saying, “Well, it doesn’t exactly work that way around here.” But she beat him to it.

  “I know, I know, it’s out of the ordinary—but it will be okay.” She glanced quickly at Breanna’s stiff expression. “Besides, don’t you and Breanna have some things to discuss? Something about flights and going to London and things like that?” What a terrible mother, using her daughter for bait. And yet, it worked so well. Liam’s face instantly lit up, although his expression didn’t necessarily change; Breanna clenched her jaw.

  He looked at her, “Actually, that’s what I was doing—coming to see if you and I could talk for a few minutes.”

  Breanna hesitated long enough that Sadie felt the need to help her out. “That would be great,” Sadie said in a mother-knows-best kind of voice. “I’ll just head down to the kitchen so you two can talk in private. Breanna can fill me in later with whatever I need to know.”

  Unfortunately, it seemed that mentioning the kitchen was the wrong thing to say. “I still don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Liam said. “We called a security company to stay here tonight, but they won’t be here for another hour.”

  “So, you believe us?” Breanna asked, watching Liam carefully.

  Liam paused a little too long before he answered. “Of course I believe you,” he said.

  “That’s why you called in security?” Breanna pushed.

  “Well, actually Austin thought it would be a good idea, to assure the staff that everything’s okay—oh, and you guys too. We want you to feel safe here, and it’s too late to head for London tonight.”

  “Austin doesn’t believe us, does he?” Sadie asked.

  Liam shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what Austin thinks.” His voice was gruff, almost angry when he said it. He looked at Breanna and waited for her to return his gaze. “Can we talk?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added in a softer voice. “Please, Bre.”

  The pleading tone in his voice undid Sadie—and she wasn’t even the one who had been dating the man. One look at Breanna showed it had had a similar effect on her. She lost her defensive stance. “Sure,” she said, managing a small smile. But then she turned to her mother. “Do you want to wait for me?” Her strong look said she very much wanted Sadie to wait; it would likely force her conversation with Liam to be a short one.

  Sadie pretended she wasn’t such a
n expert at deciphering facial expressions. “No,” she said, perhaps too fast. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Alone?” Liam questioned.

  Sadie smiled triumphantly and dug her jogging whistle out of her pocket. “Believe me,” she said. “Anyone who messes with me will long regret it—this baby can cause permanent hearing damage. And if that’s not enough, I’ve got my kung fu skills to fall back on.” She crouched slightly and put her hands into a defensive Tae Kwon Do stance. Liam and Breanna both watched her with troubled expressions as she held the position for a few seconds. Surely they could see how good her form was.

  “Mom took a self-defense class a few years ago,” Breanna said. “We call her ‘Sadie Lee’ sometimes just to remind ourselves of what a danger she really is.” Sadie thought Breanna’s tone was a little flat for the level of important information she was giving out, but she didn’t want to engage her daughter in yet another discussion-veiled argument. She was also glad Breanna was participating in a conversation with Liam. Sadie said good-bye before either of them came up with another way to hold her back, and walked down the stairs like any normal person would.

  Once she reached the bottom however, she looked up to ensure that Breanna and Liam were out of sight, and then jumped behind a ficus, returning to her role as invisible detective. If only she’d thought to bring a black stocking cap on this trip. She’d brought a pink one—it matched her gloves, just in case everyone had lied about the weather in Devonshire this time of year—but pink wasn’t nearly as inconspicuous as black would have been. She made a mental note to not be so lax in her packing next time. Luckily, she had brought her green Colorado State jacket and it was dark enough to make her feel like she blended into the walls better. She took a moment to zip it up to her chin and pull the hood up now that Breanna wasn’t here to make fun of her for it.

  Sadie made her way to the other side of the stairs and then crisscrossed the room toward the baize door, using the furniture as shields. Thank goodness for prolific interior decorating. With darting glances in every direction, even behind her this time, she finally made a run across the last dozen feet, pulled open the door and then pulled it closed behind her, slowing at the very last second so as not to slam the door.