Page 28 of One Last Lie

I decide this is a chance for me to connect with her. I no longer feel the same coldness from her as I did when I first arrived. Perhaps I can cultivate something more than politeness this morning.

I bring her the coffee and sit across from her. “I hear Johnathan was a big supporter of charity.”

She looks at me quizzically. “What brought that thought to your mind.”

I recall Theresa’s warning about burdening her with the clothing and jewelry stored in the linen closet and choose my words carefully. “I suppose to be perfectly accurate, I heard that Johnathan’s mother was involved with charity. I simply assumed Johnathan took after her in that regard.”

She laughs. “Well, Johnathan supported a few charities, but who told you his mother supported charity? Emily was… well, she was good to her family, but she cared very little for the rest of the world. She actually used to fight Johnathan over his support of charity. She couldn’t understand why he was ‘wasting his wealth on rabble.’”

I fight to keep the shock from my face. That shock quickly turns to fury.

Theresa lied to me. Those weren’t earmarked for charity. They probably weren’t even Emily Ashford’s clothes. It occurs to me that a number of the dresses would fit Theresa’s figure quite well.

That thief!

“Cecilia?”

I turn to see Theresa approaching. She gives me a haughty glare, then says to Cecilia, “Doctor Harrow is on the phone for you.”

Cecilia holds her hand out for her phone, and Theresa hesitates. “I… I left it in your room, ma’am. I didn’t feel comfortable touching your property.”

Cecilia sighs and offers me an apologetic smile. “Thank you for the coffee, Mary.”

Perhaps it’s just my weakened emotional state after the revelation of my (alleged) hospitalization and the terrifying dream I’ve had, but hearing Theresa demurely suggest that she’s too respectful to touch Cecilia’s property meanwhile a half million dollars of it sits in a supply closet underneath fifty thousand dollars’ worth of fine dresses she purchased with stolen money is too much for me. When Cecilia leaves the room, I stand and stride toward Theresa.

I am not a large woman, but I stand taller than Theresa, and when I am angry, I take on a fierce demeanor. Theresa initially regards me with her usual contempt, but that quickly fades into a look of real terror. She backs up and looks toward the door, but I reach her before she has a chance to make her escape.

“You lying thief,” I hiss.

I don’t expect to be so direct and forceful, and for a moment, I’m sure my face wears the same shock that Theresa’s does. I’m not the kind of person who simply erupts like that. In fact, my first instinct is to apologize and try a more diplomatic approach, but something seems to have taken me over. I don’t feel entirely in control of myself anymore.

Theresa draws herself up to every inch of her unimpressive height and meeting my eyes indignantly. “How dare you?”

Once more, I respond with vitriol. Surely, the emotion behind it is genuine, but I am once again shocked by my forcefulness when I say, “You lied to me. Those dresses weren’t meant for charity. Emily Ashford despised charity. Cecilia told me.” Theresa flinches and says, “You told her?”

“Not yet. I’m about to.”

I spin on my heel and start for the kitchen door.

“No!”

She grips my arm and spins me around. I try to pull free, but she holds me with surprising strength, and the viciousness in her eyes cracks through my own indignance. For the first time since meeting her, I feel afraid.

“Who do you think you are, huh?” she spits. “I’ve worked for this family for forty years! You haven’t been here a week! You want to judge me from your prim and proper ivory tower? Fuck you! Forty years I’ve slaved for this family, and if every now and then I want to wear something that doesn’t make me look like a fucking janitor, what’s wrong with that?”

Her vulgarity stuns me, and I can't figure a response. She shakes me, just a little, but enough to remind me that she's capable of hurting me if she wants to.

“Do you know how much jewelry Miss Cecilia has?”

She speaks her name like a swear word. I muster up enough courage to yank my arm away and turn to face her again. “No. Because I don’t snoop on my employers.”

She laughs. “So you haven’t been prowling the house at all hours of the night seeing what you can find? Don’t lie to me, Mary. You wouldn’t have found my jewelry had you not been snooping.”

“I wouldn’t have stolen Miss Cecilia’s jewelry for any reason.”

“Oh, get off your high horse. That bitch dropped more money out of her purse walking to the car yesterday than I’ll ever steal in my life. Shouldn’t it tell you something that I’ve made off with a half million in pearls and diamonds and they’ve never even noticed?”

“Johnathan noticed.”

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