Page 74 of Twisted Truths

“Sir, if I could have a word please. There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about.”

My forehead wrinkles, and I set the cappuccino on a nearby table before setting my hands on my hips. Marcel has been working for the Voss family as far back as I can remember. He’s a loyal worker who knows how to keep his mouth shut, so the apparent concern on his face raises some red flags.

“What is it?” I ask.

He swallows hard and hesitates, almost as though he’s considering how he wants to say what he has to say. The pause puts me on the edge.

“Spit it out,” I snap.

He nods. “Sir, Finn came to me after some of the housekeeping staff went to him over the past several weeks with concerns. Apparently, they’ve noticed that items have gone missing from within the manor.” He raises his chin and waits for my response.

“Items? What kind of items?”

“Candlesticks, a Fabergé egg, among other things.”

A creeping feeling webs in my gut. “And why are you telling me specifically?”

He clears his throat. “Because, sir, the items didn’t go missing until Miss Clarke came under your employment.”

His words hang between us.

My immediate reaction is disbelief, but anger is quick to follow. “Are you accusing Ariana of stealing from us?”

Marcel’s gaze darts away. “I’m just relaying the facts, sir.”

I step toward him, but Marcel holds his ground. “How do you know it’s not one of the housekeeping staff taking the items and using Ariana as a scapegoat because she’s new on the premises?”

“I don’t, sir. That’s why I’m telling you. So you can tell me how you’d like me to proceed to figure out what’s going on. Whether you want me to call the police.”

“No police,” I say.

“Very well. What would you like me to do?”

My mind races like a Formula 1 car in Monaco, every thought looping around to the same place—is this what’s been bothering Ariana lately?

“I want you to keep this between the two of us. Leave it with me. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Yes, sir.” He gives me a small nod in deference before walking away.

I push a hand through my hair and blow out a breath. What the fuck is going on?

It can’t be true. It can’t.

But that oily feeling I’ve had a few times, like everything with Ariana is temporary, rises.

If Ariana was stealing things, when the hell would she have even had time to pawn them or find a buyer? She can’t be hoarding them in her room. The housekeeping staff would have found them.

She never leaves the manor without me except… fuck. She meets her brother every Saturday night. I didn’t think anything of it, but what brother comes to see his sister once a week? And where is he coming from? She’s never given me the impression that he lives around here, and I’ve never bothered to ask.

I assume he lives wherever she lived before coming to Midnight Manor, but I don’t know where that is. In the beginning, I refused to look at her employment file because I was planning to make her quit. After a while, I didn’t want to know anything she didn’t tell. Why didn’t she tell me?

Tonight, I’ll be paying a visit to Black Magic Bar.

I need to know for sure that everything Marcel is saying is bullshit, and I don’t want the staff whispering about her in dark corners. I’ll clear her name.

I step into Black Magic Bar, and there are only a few patrons. I sit at the opposite end of the bar from the old-timers but can tell they know who I am when they do a double-take and whisper to each other.

When the bartender is done helping them, she sidles down to me. “Can I get you something?”

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