Page 10 of One Last Lie

“It’s fine,” Cecilia says dismissively. “Here, I’ll get you a credit card for the pizza.”

She brushes past me, and I call after her. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine!”

I don’t have to be a former psychology student to know that’s a lie.

I look out the window and see Elena get into a late-model German sedan and drive back toward the gate.

She may go farther this time.

An unnerving thought strikes me. Might she go far enough to kill Johnathan Ashford?

My coat is a thick woolen garment designed for the harshness of the New England Winter.

But still, I shiver as I watch Elena drive past the open gate and accelerate onto the road. Have I just looked into the eyes of a killer?

No, that’s rubbish. It’s a business dispute, nothing more. The business world is cutthroat, but surely not so evil as to be murderous. I’ve let my imagination run away with me. That’s all.

Still, as Elena’s car disappears from view, I feel myself sinking deeper into the mystery of the Ashford Estate.

And if Johnathan was murdered. What then?

It’s none of my business. My job is to care for the children. Nothing more.

I tell myself this, but even as I convince myself to ignore Elena, I know I can stay away for only so long before I am pulled against my will into the web of mystery that surrounds this family.

CHAPTER FOUR

Allowing the children to play near the pond turns out to be a mistake. Samuel develops a cough that evening. I make him some chamomile tea with honey and lemon, and with help from Elijah—who returns just in time for the pizza—we coax him into drinking the tea.

Unfortunately, he wakes up with a fever and a respiratory infection. When I search for medicine, I find that there is absolutely none in the house. I can’t understand how it’s possible to have children in the house without even a basic stock of medicine, but when I ask Cecilia, she confirms it’s true. “Johnathan was the one who handled all of that. He had a good relationship with the local pharmacist. The children haven’t been sick in a while, so I suppose I never thought about it.”

“Well, I’ll pick up some medicine after breakfast. That is, if it’s all right with you, ma’am.”

She nods and smiles distractedly. “Sure. Whatever you think is best.”

I see to breakfast and then ask Elijah to watch the others while I’m gone. He frowns and says, “When will you be back?”

I shouldn’t snap at him, but I’m frustrated: at myself for not keeping Samuel inside from the cold, at Isabella for involving me in this mystery and then closing off from all my attempts to talk to her again, and at Elijah for disappearing for hours for no warning.

So, I say, “When I have medicine for your brother. And when I return, we’ll discuss your absence yesterday.

His frown deepens, and he says defensively, “All right. I was just asking.”

Samuel moans, “Mary, my head hurts.”

“I know, Samuel. I’m fetching medicine for you. In the meantime, Elijah, please brew him some chamomile tea with a teaspoon of honey and the juice of half a lemon. Isabella, you may put a movie on for him and bundle him warmly in his room.”

“Isn’t that your job?” she says snarkily.

“Right now, it’s your job,” I reply firmly.

She glares defiantly at me, and when she sees I won’t budge, she rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s okay, Miss Mary,” Samuel says. “I can bundle myself up.”

Isabella quickly goes to him. “No, it’s okay, buddy. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of you.”

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