English Trifle (27 page)

Anyways, I best wrap this up. Remember that I love you, that I can’t wait for the day I return to my post and we’re together again. You won’t get this ’til after Boxing Day at least, but I hope you had a happy Christmas. Next year will be different—better. I promise. I’m looking forward to seeing you next week—it will be the perfect start to a new year.

Love,

Your Essie

When Sadie finished reading she was a bit disappointed to realize that if she’d learned anything, it was to feel a measure of sympathy toward Grant. Though the details were hazy, and she didn’t know exactly what the letter meant, she’d gleaned enough to know that this Essie person was important to Grant and that they were apart. She guessed that Essie was in some kind of rehab center, since she’d talked about sobriety and group therapy. Unfortunately there was nothing about the earl’s lady friend or a potential motive for murdering John Henry, or even something horrible about Austin she could take to the investigator.

Then again, maybe she’d learned a great deal more than that. Like Mrs. Land, Grant had someone he loved who was in trouble. Was it too far-fetched to assume that Essie could have been used against Grant the same way Rupert had bought Mrs. Land’s participation? Assuming that Sadie was assuming correctly—which of course she thought she was—just how far would Grant go? Mrs. Land had been a sentence away from cracking—Grant knew it and sent her to London. John Henry had asked Liam to meet him in the sitting room and although Liam’s knowledge of that request was unknown—Grant was the one in possession of the note. And so Grant knew John Henry would be waiting for Liam during the time the final tea was being prepared. And what about this “lady friend”? And the countess’s bedroom? And where did Lacy fit in? What was everyone trying to hide?

“Wait,” she said out loud, forcing her thoughts to take a pause. There was too much in her head, too many directions she needed to pursue. What she needed was a list so she could put it all out there and work through the questions one by one.

She went to the bedside table and opened the drawer for the notebook. It wasn’t there. Thinking she may have put it somewhere else, she looked in the other bedside table drawer on Breanna’s side—nothing. Then she checked her suitcase, Breanna’s backpack, and the drawers of the dresser. When she’d looked everywhere twice, she officially began to panic. She grabbed her phone to text Breanna again, nearly cursing at how slow she was—she really needed to take a class or something.

Do u have the notebook?

While she waited for an answer, she looked everywhere for a third time—just in case.

Stevie Wonder signaled an answer to her text and she hurried back to the bed and picked up her phone.

No, y?

~ ~ ~

Sadie swallowed hard as she looked around the room one last time. Someone had taken the notebook. She tried to remember everything they’d written down, but had to give up when she realized the notebook simply had everything.

She sat down hard on the bed, letting out a breath. Why hadn’t she anticipated that someone could take the notebook? She should have hidden it somewhere—in the toilet tank or under the mattress or in between layers of her underwear—somewhere no one would ever look. And now she’d lost everything because she assumed no one would care what little discoveries she might write down.

She sat up straighter—didn’t the fact that someone felt the notebook was valuable enough to steal in fact verify its value? She sat there for a full minute, trying to decide what to do and who to suspect of taking the notebook. Finally, she had to accept that she could either pine and worry about the book, or she could get back to work. It was nearly ten-thirty, which meant the staff would be leaving in a matter of hours.

With no time to waste, she went to her suitcase and pulled out the half-sheet pad of paper and the other ballpoint pen she’d brought—and Breanna had called her neurotic for over-packing. Ha!

She started writing down everything she remembered—but this time she organized it by dedicating one page to each person involved. She had a page for Liam, a page for Grant, Austin, and Mrs. Land. When she finished, she read over what she’d written, asking herself if she’d missed anything. The final page listed the information about Mrs. Land. Sadie studied it harder than the rest because Mrs. Land was the one person no longer available to be questioned. Had Sadie missed anything in their conversation, anything at all?

She relived the entire conversation she’d had in the kitchen without remembering anything that she hadn’t already written down. If only Sadie had had a few more minutes with the woman. And not only for Sadie’s well-being; Mrs. Land had seemed so relieved to confide in Sadie. Imagine how much better she’d have felt if she’d had the chance to tell Sadie all her secrets. Sadie imagined the lightness that could have entered the woman’s countenance, how much more confident and comfortable she’d have felt if she’d been able to truly relieve herself of her burdens.

Wait a minute—Mrs. Land had seemed more confident and comfortable during their final conversation. She had made eye contact and her voice had been stronger even though Grant was right there. Sadie had assumed that was because she was excited to see her son. But what was it she’d said?

“Oh, good, you found your book. I asked Grant to make sure you got your book back.”

Was Sadie imagining that Mrs. Land might have emphasized the word “sure” in that sentence?

“I asked Grant to make sure you got your book back.”

No, she had emphasized that word. She’d been trying to tell Sadie something that Grant wouldn’t pick up on.

Mrs. Land had written something in the recipe book!

Sadie hopped off the bed as fear gripped her heart. Had someone taken that book too? But a quick sprint for the bedside table assured her that no one felt her recipe book held any clues. She picked up the book, but it slipped out of her hands and fell to the ground, thanks to her eager fingers. She bent down and picked it up by the spine, righted it on the bed and began flipping through the pages, scanning the handwritten recipes in search of handwriting other than her own. When she reached the end and found nothing, she questioned herself. Was all the mystery going to her head? Had Mrs. Land really only been glad Sadie had got her book back?

Sadie went back to the front of the book and turned page after page, slower this time as she looked for something, anything, that indicated Mrs. Land had used the recipe book to tell her what she hadn’t had time to say when Grant interrupted their conversation. Sadie reached the end of the book a second time and let out a breath. The adrenaline of the expected discovery was wearing off and Sadie once again felt like an idiot.

She slammed the cover shut. “Ah, crickets,” she cursed. Well, at least Breanna hadn’t been a part of this one, she thought as she turned back toward the bed where she’d left the new clue notebook. She took a step, but her foot slid across the hardwood floor. A dry slide.

Looking down she realized a piece of paper was under her shoe. Darned stupid piece of paper, she thought—more than willing to pin all her frustration on it for the moment. Where had it come from anyway?

Then she paused.

Could that darned stupid piece of paper have fallen out of the recipe book when she dropped it?

She snatched up the paper, turning it over in her hand. The words made the breath catch in her throat. She read them twice to make sure she’d read them correctly.

Please return the keys to the drawer next to the sink when you’ve learned what you need to learn. I’m sorry I can’t tell you what I know, but I need to make sure Rupert is safe. I can tell you this much though—Master Liam moved John Henry into the vegetable pantry.

~ ~ ~

Sadie blinked at the paper and read it again. Mrs. Land had given her the keys.

But the last part of the note quickly pushed everything else from her mind.

Liam moved the body.

The very idea made her ill. She grabbed the new notebook, put it in the waistband of her pants, stuffed the notes and letter in her pocket, and hurried out the door, texting Breanna as she hurried toward the east wing. Seconds later she unlocked the door to the earl’s sitting room and let herself in, quickly scanning the room. Breanna wasn’t here nor had she answered Sadie’s text. The room was empty, but still as beautiful as she remembered it from her two previous visits. For the smallest moment she felt a little disappointed that she and Breanna hadn’t had their own sitting room too. As her eyes took in the antique desk, silk draperies, and leather chairs, she noticed a door on the opposite side of the room from the door she knew led to the earl’s chamber. The room was organized in such a way that the door was behind a chair, and not easily accessed. She’d never noticed it before and immediately wondered if it was perhaps the countess’s bedroom Mrs. Kinsley had mentioned. All those Regency romances talked about separate bedrooms and such—would the two rooms, however, share a sitting room?

Distracted by this new discovery, and since Breanna wasn’t there anyway, Sadie went to the door and tested the knob. It was locked—of course—and although she had the key, she took a few moments to argue with herself.

Breanna’s not here, it would only take a minute.

Liam could be a crazed murderer and Breanna could be with him in the other room.

But he loves her.

But he’s been lying all along.

Basically it came down to curiosity vs. Breanna. It was still a hard choice to make, so she forced herself to review the note she’d found in Grant’s room, along with Mrs. Land’s note that said Liam had moved John Henry’s body. In the moment it took to visualize Liam wrenching the poker from the wall and catching the crumpling body of John Henry, Sadie made her decision and turned away, wriggling her hips due to the fact that the notebook tucked into her waistband wasn’t very comfortable.

She went to the earl’s bedroom door and focused her thoughts before turning the knob. It was also locked—sheesh, you’d think Liam didn’t trust anyone at all! She only hesitated a moment before inserting the key, turning it in the lock, and pushing the door open. She saw the earl first and looked away, but only for a moment before her eyes went back to the bed. He was awake! Well, his eyes were open anyway, though he looked rather out of it.

“Mr. Martin?” she asked, then caught herself. “I mean, uh, Earl Martin—or, uh, Lord Garnett or, uh—”

“William.”

She snapped her head to the side, having forgotten that she’d entered this room looking for someone. But it wasn’t Breanna she saw and Sadie froze as she faced Liam. He wasn’t alone. Another man Sadie had never seen before rose to his feet from behind a small desk by the window. Liam turned to him. “It’s okay, this is Breanna’s mother,” he said, passing her so he could shut the door. Then he turned back to Sadie. “How did you get in here?”

Sadie casually put her hand behind her back, hiding the keys. She looked back at the earl to distract Liam from the question he’d asked. “Your father?” she asked. “He’s awake?”

Liam and the other man shared a look. After a few more moments, Liam let out a breath. “Dr. Sawyer,” he said, waving toward the other man, “this is Sadie Hoffmiller. Sadie; Dr. Sawyer.”

The doctor moved toward Sadie and put out his hand, which she shook while taking an appraising look at the man. He was quite attractive, with dark eyes and dark hair just beginning to go gray at the edges. Sadie had a sudden desire to go back in time and fix her hair, touch up her makeup, and lose fifteen pounds. Never mind that she had Detective Pete Cunningham back in Garrison. Pete who?

“A pleasure to meet you,” Dr. Sawyer said in a voice so melodic with his accent that it sounded like a song. Sadie grinned for a few seconds before realizing he expected an answer.

“Oh, yes,” Sadie said. “The pleasure is all mine.” They all paused for a moment, and then her reason for being there in the first place came rushing back and her admiration of a beautiful man was pushed to the back-burner almost as quickly as it had come. “Who are you again?”

“Um, he’s my father’s doctor,” Liam said.

Sadie looked at him, confused. “I thought Austin’s father was his doctor?”

“Dr. Sawyer was Dad’s doctor before Austin’s father took over, and now he’s Dad’s doctor again.”

“Okay,” Sadie said slowly, and yet she didn’t quite have a handle on it. She cocked her head to the side. “Huh?”

Dr. Sawyer spoke. “I used to be the earl’s physician—I practice in London. Until today I hadn’t seen the earl for several months, and I didn’t know until yesterday about his supposed stroke.”

Liam cut in. “When I arrived, John Henry seemed to be trying to keep me away from my father. I was up to my ears in accounts and other estate business, so I didn’t push too much, but during our tour of England I determined I wouldn’t be so easy to push around when we got back. John Henry and I had several arguments after my return. He didn’t want me staying with my father for more than fifteen minutes at a time and he wouldn’t let me read my father’s medical file. I spoke to Dr. Melcalfe once, and he simply agreed with John Henry on every count. Yesterday, I just lost it and told John Henry to get out. John Henry had told me that Dr. Sawyer agreed that Austin’s father would be better prepared to care for Dad due to his close connection to the family, but I wasn’t so sure. Basically, I wanted a second opinion in regards to the course of treatment for my father. I left a message with Dr. Sawyer’s office yesterday, hoping he could help me understand where to go from there.”

“Okay,” Sadie said with a nod so that he would know she was keeping up.

“Well, Dr. Sawyer called me back after dinner. He knew nothing about my father’s stroke or that he was receiving care from Dr. Melcalfe. As you can imagine, this worried me even more. Dr. Sawyer walked me through some assessments I could make in regards to my father’s condition. Turns out that my father doesn’t show any signs of having had a stroke at all.”

Sadie’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” She looked at the earl again who had closed his eyes. “Then what’s wrong with him?”