Page 34 of One in a Million

“I came to work here after Frank married Madeleine. It was actually my husband, Jackson, who was hired as head wrangler—they called it that back then. As his wife, I needed a job, too, so I was taken on as kitchen help. Juan Jose Estrada, the fine man who ran the kitchen, taught me everything he knew about cooking for the Culhanes before he retired and went home to his family in Chihuahua. Then his job became mine, as it has been ever since.

“Frank was already the head of the family. His father had passed on early, and his mother was an invalid who rarely left her room. I learned to make her tray—the tea just so, the poached egg and half slice of buttered toast—and take it to her every morning. Toward the end, she had a private nurse. Such a disagreeable woman!”

Questions swarmed in Sam’s mind. He forced himself to hold them back. He had promised to listen; and he didn’t want to interrupt her flow of thoughts and words, even when they meandered.

“After my husband was killed by a rogue stallion, I lost the baby I was carrying. Frank and Madeleine were so generous to me. They paid for Jackson’s burial as well as my hospital bill and gave me time off to recover. Their kindness bought my loyalty—for good, in case you’re wondering.”

Sam willed himself not to react. But Mariah had just given him something vital. In the coming clash between Frank’s two wives, her allegiance, if any, would be to the formidable Madeleine. Lila could expect no support, not even from the kitchen.

“What can you tell me about Madeleine?” Sam hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but with Madeleine due to arrive at any time, he needed to know more about her before Mariah’s narrative rambled in another direction. “How did she and Frank meet?”

“At an open riding competition in Scottsdale. She’d been a non-pro champion, going for the big time. When her scores beat his, Frank was furious, but she was so striking and so spirited that he couldn’t resist asking her out. They were married five months later.”

“So they competed together?”

“Not quite. They traveled together, usually taking the children along. But their real competition was against each other. More often than not, it was Madeleine who won, and Frank couldn’t stand it. They fell to fighting. That was what opened the marriage up to an opportunist like Lila.”

“I take it you don’t like your employer.”

“I didn’t say that. Lila’s fine. She treats me well, and we get along. Frank was miserable back then. If it hadn’t been Lila who broke up the marriage, it would have been somebody else.”

As she spoke, Mariah’s gaze shifted slightly. Was she telling the truth about her acceptance of Lila?

“Back to Madeleine,” he said. “Does she still ride in competition?”

“She doesn’t ride at all. After the divorce and Frank’s remarriage, there was a terrible accident in the arena. A horse fell with her and shattered her pelvis. She recovered enough to get around, but she’ll never ride again.”

“That must’ve been devastating. Are you still in touch with her?”

“Barely. But she still sends me a nice little bonus at Christmastime and always remembers my birthday.”

Still buying her cook’s loyalty eleven years after leaving. Clever woman.How much loyalty had these gestures bought Madeleine? Sam wondered. How deep did that loyalty go?

Mariah stirred and rose, as if suddenly uncomfortable. “They’ll be needing me outside. If we’re finished—”

“For now,” Sam said. “Just one more question. You were invited to attend Frank’s burial with the family. Why did you choose not to join them?”

She hesitated a moment. “Three reasons, I suppose. First, I’m aware that I’m not really family. I was only invited out of courtesy. Second, I have a job to do, and I chose to do it. Third—” She paused. Sam saw her throat move, as if she were gulping back some hidden emotion. “Third, I didn’t want my last memory of Frank to be the sight of his casket in the ground. And that, Mr. FBI man, is all I have to say.”

In the next instant she was gone, leaving Sam alone in the kitchen. After carrying his plate to the counter, he left the house and walked back to the bungalow to type up a full report for Nick.

His interview with Mariah had filled in some pieces of the puzzle. But it had left him with more questions than answers. How much influence did Madeleine have over her former cook, and did she plan to use it? And what about Mariah’s cryptic parting words to him? Had Frank been more than an employer to her?

But as she’d told him, she was through talking. Unless he found evidence to justify more questions, their interview was over.

As he came around the house, he saw signs of activity in the bungalow next to his—the largest one, grander than its two neighbors. A white van, bearing the logo of a cleaning service, was parked outside. Workers swarmed in and out, carrying vacuums, floor scrubbers, and other cleaning equipment. A landscaper with a noisy chain saw was trimming dead wood from the shrubbery that grew below the porch.

Sam stood back, watching. Clearly, he was due to get an important neighbor. Would it be Madeleine or some dignitary? Either way, things were moving toward the gathering for Frank’s memorial. He could only hope the time ahead would bring him some answers.

* * *

Roper had given One in a Million some time off after the trauma of witnessing Frank’s death. He’d visited the horse several times a day, stroking and calming him, but the stallion was still nervous, jumpy, and suspicious. When put out in the paddock with other horses, he refused to let them get close. Maybe what he needed now was to get back into his usual routine.

At the end of the training day, with most of the staff gone and the other horses put away, Roper led him out of the stall and cross-tied him before wrapping his lower legs to support and protect them.

The horse laid back his ears as Roper slipped on the bridle and eased the light snaffle bit into his mouth. “It’s all right, big boy,” he murmured. “You’re safe. You’ll be fine.”

One in a Million snorted and tossed his head as Roper saddled him. What had those big, dark eyes witnessed in that stall? Had there been a struggle? Had Frank gone down easy, or had he fought? Had his attacker been a stranger or someone the stallion had known, even trusted?

---