I’d been right, Sarah adored Leo and his spinach artichoke dip. The two of them were chatting about the latest episode of The Voice while Sylvia and I cleaned out the kitchen.
It was a big job. The kitchen was small but packed to the gills. Sarah had indicated that she wasn’t much of a cook and we could donate most of the stuff. We had three piles going. One for everyday use, one for salvageable donations and one for DNR that looked like it had seen better days—when Lincoln was president.
“What’s that?” Sylvia asked as I pulled a rusty gadget from under the butcher block island.
I frowned at the object in my hand. “Right now, a tetanus hazard. Pass me a trash bag.”
“Don’t you think you should ask Sarah first?”
I raised my arm and brandished the object over my head so our employer could see it. “Hey Sarah, you want lockjaw?”
“No, thank you!” She waved back.
I dropped the thing into a black plastic bag. It landed with a loud plunk. “She trusts our judgment.”
Sylvia blew out a breath. “Why though?”
I looked around at the heaps of clutter. “It’s overwhelming, especially since she’s still grieving for her grandfather. Tackling this too probably seems insurmountable. It’s easier for us to do it.”
Sylvia nodded thoughtfully. “Still. I mean, would you want some random strangers coming to your house to toss out your stuff?”
I had crawled back under the island to extract the next ancient piece of garbage. “No, but I’m a control freak.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Leo said.
I jumped, and then bashed my head on the underside of the cabinet. “Ouch. Leo. I swear, I’ll put a bell on you if you don’t quit sneaking up on me.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t clash with my kicks,” He said, pointing down to his
brightly beaded moccasins. “I got them at the reservation and they are the most comfortable footwear evah, plus unique. How many gay men do you see wearing moccasins, huh? You ladies need a hand?”
“You don’t have to,” Sylvia rushed to respond. “We can manage. Where’d Sarah go?”
“Out to the stables, I think. She mentioned something about checking on a new foal.” Leo eyed Sylvia, a gleam of speculation in his gaze. “You’re looking well today. New haircut?”
She started, as though surprised and touched her artfully messy blond bun. “No, actually, I’m growing it out.”
Leo didn’t appear fazed. “Well, whatever it is, keep it up. You have a rosy glow about you.”
She frowned at him. “Um, okay. Thanks. Hey Maggie, do you think we should clear out some of the donate-ables to the hallway? It’s getting a little crowded in here.”
“Sure.” We’d already recycled most of the newspapers and magazines that had cluttered the entryway so there was space out there.
The second she was gone Leo whirled on me. “She’s preggers.”
I dropped the cast iron skillet I’d been holding and it landed on my foot with a crash. “Ouch!” I hopped around, glaring at Leo. “Who, Sarah?”
He looked at me, mischief dancing in his eyes. “No, Sylvia.”
My big toe throbbed and I felt a little dizzy. “How the hell would you know?”
He leaned back against the counter. “I have a sixth sense about women spawning.”
“That’s crazy,” I said, but then bit my lip. Sylvia’s dating life had been active lately, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. “How sure are you?”
Leo folded his arms over his chest. “I’m 99.9 percent accurate.”
I cast him a withering look. “Maybe she should pee on you to double-check.”
Tongue firmly in cheek he muttered, “That’s your department.”
“I wonder if she knows,” I mused, glancing to the hall.
“I seriously doubt it. That’s why I commented about the glow, to see how she would react.”
I bit my lip. “Don’t say anything to her, okay? I don’t want her to think we’ve been gossiping about her behind her back. If you’re right, she’ll have enough to deal with.”
Leo scowled down at me. “Look, I may be a tad bitchy sometimes but I’m not a total asshole.”
“I never thought you were.”
“Hello?” A male voice, low and smoky called out. “Ms. Dale?”
“She’s up at the stables,” I called.
There was a pause, followed by footsteps. A man appeared in the hallway. He was tall and thin with a large hooked nose and hair so blond it was almost white. The way he tilted his head to the side was very bird-like as if he was part crane.
“Hello,” he said carefully as if wondering who in hell I was but too reserved to come out and ask.
“I’m part of the cleaning service.” I hopped over various piles and bags until I could reach out my hand. “Maggie Phillips. And this is my friend Leo.”
“Hello,” Leo, who was still traversing the obstacle course, waved.
The new guy looked at my hand for a minute as if considering whether or not to shake it. When he finally did grasp it, I was surprised he had a strong, solid grip, not at all the clammy, dead fish shake I’d imagined. “Frank Finn. Everybody just calls me Finn.”
I must have looked as if I needed further explanation because he went on, “My grandfather was good friends with Chester Dale. I stopped by to pay respect.”
Weird that the guard at gate number two hadn’t announced Finn, but then again, I wasn’t the one taking the calls. “Well, I‘m sure Sarah will be back soon if you want to wait—”
The sound of running footsteps snagged our attention and Sylvia sped around the bottom stair, holding on to the balustrade to help bank the corner. She barely seemed to notice Frank Finn as she screeched to a halt. “Maggie, come quick.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure,” she was still panting. “But whatever’s going on isn’t good.”
We all followed her back through the main hallway to the entryway. Raised voices carried through the open front door, though we were too far off to make out the words immediately, the tones were decidedly angry.
There were two new vehicles parked in the circular drive, one beat-up Toyota and a Lexus SUV. The doors to the SUV were still open. Two women and a man all wearing dark suits clustered around Sarah, backing her against the side of the detached garage.
I knew right away why Sylvia had called for me. Sarah looked like a punching bag lodged between the three powerhouses. Her eyes rounded, and her posture hunched as though anticipating a blow. Though I doubted they’d actually hit her, it was obvious the newcomers were making verbal mincemeat out of her. I hopped off the porch, ready to go to her side, but Finn had a longer stride and he got to them first.
“Is there a problem here?”
The suits ignored him. “How dare you remove anything from this house?” The suit who’d spoken had hair the color of honey frosted lightly with gray. Her eyes were cold chips of slate and she pointed an accusing finger at Sarah. “You have no right.”
“Just who do you think you are?” The other woman, a brunette with a sleek bob asked.
“He left me the house—” Sarah began but the man closed in, using his considerable bulk to intimidate.
“You’re unwell, Sarah.” The man said it like a statement of fact. His tone was condescending as hell. “We are going back to court and contesting the will and we’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t make any more drastic changes until things are settled.”
“Back off,” Finn wedged himself between the man and Sarah, acting as a human shield from the heavyset man’s wrath. “Is this any way to talk to your niece?”
Far from looking ashamed, the three turned their collective ire on Finn. The man took point in being an asshole and said, “And just who in hell are you to meddle in a family affair?”
Finn reached into his coat pocket and for a crazy moment, I thought he might pull out a gun and shoot the jackass dead. Instead, he took out what I thought was a wallet until I saw the glint of metal reflecting sunlight. A police shield. “Detective Frank Finn, Boston PD. I’d suggest you remove yourselves from this property before Miss Dale presses charges for trespassing.”
“Didn’t see that one coming,” Leo muttered.
Leo made a cup of chamomile tea for Sarah and brought it and a pot of coffee out to the sitting room, where we’d brought Sarah after her relatives had departed.
Though by all rights Sylvia and I should have headed back to work, we lingered in the room to offer moral support. I studied Frank Finn out of the corner of my eye. Usually, police detectives were a little rougher in appearance. Everything about the detective was immaculate, from his finely tailored slacks to his neatly polished glasses. Even his nails were trimmed, the cuticles pushed back. He was all business though as he sat on the chaise next to Sarah.
“Those were your relatives?”
The teacup rattled in Sarah’s hands and she set it down so she wouldn’t spill the hot brew in her lap. “Yes. They aren’t happy about the will, I knew that much already. But I’d hoped it would blow over. They must have bribed the guard at the gatehouse. I left specific instructions that they weren’t allowed on the property.”
“There wasn’t anyone at the second gate,” Finn informed her. “It was wide open when I drove up. Have they done something like that before?”
Sarah nodded. “No matter how much I pay them, my aunts and uncle offer more.”
“Do you feel as though you’re in danger?” Finn asked. “You could always get a restraining order.”
But Sarah was shaking her head. “They aren’t violent, not physically violent anyway. They just try to bully me. Without my grandfather here as a buffer, they don’t hold back.”
“Can they really contest the will?” I asked.
Finn cast me a surprised look as though he hadn’t realized I was still in the room. He had eyes only for Sarah and my instincts were telling me that his interest went deeper than to protect and to serve.
“They can try,” Sarah said. “They’ve threatened to before.”
“Threatened?” Finn raised a brow.
Sarah glanced away. “Not like you mean. They want to have me declared legally unfit and have one of them awarded as my legal guardian.”
Finn frowned. “Legally incompetent? On what grounds?”
I had a sneaking suspicion but it was Sarah’s secret to tell or to keep, so I left it up to her.
She squared her shoulders and looked the detective right in the eye. “Because of my gift. I’m psychic.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He didn’t laugh but he wore a strained look that told me he kind of wanted to. “Is that right.”
Sarah’s courage faltered under his direct stare and she fiddled with her skirt. Her shoulders hunched and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I cleared my throat. “She’s telling the truth.”
Finn’s gaze flickered to me, but I had way more practice holding up under much tougher scrutiny. The good detective didn’t hold a candle to my mother-in-law. “She’s legit, I’ll vouch for her.”
Sarah was gazing at me gratefully and I wondered suddenly if anyone had ever believed her before.
“When I was little, I didn’t know what I could do was unusual. My parents hid it from the rest of the family, but after they died, I made the mistake of telling Aunt Linda there was going to be a flood. She laughed it off at the time, but a week later a pipe burst in her house. She was furious, claimed I’d sabotaged the pipe and I was crying out for attention. After that, I was poor disturbed Sarah to the rest of them.”
I’d looked mentally ill people in the eye before and I knew Sarah wasn’t. True she was a little…odd, but that I chalked up to her being alone with no one but the ghosts who dropped in to confuse her even more. “Do you know what provoked them today?” I asked.
Sarah nodded. “They found out from one of the grooms that I had hired you to clean out the house and they didn’t like it.”
So they just drove right over here to tear a piece off her? From what I’d seen so far, Sarah was doing them a favor tackling all the clutter. Did they really want all the rusted crap?
Then another thought struck me. “Sarah, when we first came here yesterday there were papers scattered all over the place. Was that how the house usually looks?”
She frowned, thinking back. “It was worse than usual. I’d barely noticed, but yes, now that you mentioned it, I think so.”
“Are you implying the estate has been searched, Mrs. Phillips?” Finn asked. “Why?”
“I don’t have any idea.” Sarah shook her head. “So much of that stuff is just Gramps’s scribbles and ideas, nothing of any real value.”
“Did you notice anything else missing?” Finn asked.
She gave him a faint smile. “How could I, in this mess?”
He stared at the floor hands on hips, total cop in thinking mode pose.
I shifted on the bench seat. “Is there anything she should do? File a report or anything?”
He looked from me to Sarah and back again. “Depends on if there really was a break-in. In my opinion, her relatives are mostly bags of hot air. They’ll keep trying to intimidate her, bully her into giving them what they want, but none of them looked capable of violence.”
I nodded. “That’s what I thought, too.”
He stared at me, frowning. And then asked, almost to himself, “Why am I discussing this with you? I thought you were the cleaning lady.”
“I am.”
“But she solves crimes too,” Sylvia added.
“And she was a CI for the Hudson PD for a while,” Leo wouldn’t be outdone.
Sarah didn’t look the least bit surprised by the reveal, but Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Mrs. Phillips, right? Do everyone a favor and leave the police work to the police.”
“No problem,” I said, taking no offense. After all, if someone came into the house I was cleaning and picked up a dust rag to re-dust the sideboard I’d just dusted, I’d be a mite defensive, too. Never mind that Neil would blow a gasket if I got involved with yet another unsolved crime. If there even was one.
“At this point,” Finn turned back to Sarah, “Just make sure your security alarm is armed whenever you are inside the house alone. Call me anytime if you think someone might be trying to break in.” He handed her a small white business card.
“Thanks,” Sarah took the card and stared down at it for a moment. Then her brow creased. “Not that I’m not grateful for your help, but why are you here, Detective Finn?”
He grinned and I definitely detected a spark between the pair of them. “I go by Finn. And I stopped by to give condolences for my grandfather.”
“Your grandfather? Did he know Gramps?”
Finn blinked. “Yeah, they were great friends. Poker buddies, too. Met every Thursday at the Shady Elm retirement community.”
“Oh,” Sarah frowned and then blushed as she looked back at the detective. “Well, maybe I should stop by and visit your grandfather sometimes.”
“I’m sure he’d like that. You can always give me a call if you want some company. Pops can be a little hard to handle.” From the way he winced, I guessed that was something of an understatement.
It was clear, to me at least, that he was on a fishing expedition. Instead of putting the poor bugger out of his misery, Sarah smiled blandly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Obviously disappointed, Finn cast about, looking for a dignified way to slink off with his tail between his legs.
“I’ll see you out, Detective.” I hustled forward, playing the part of the domestic help to a T.
When we were safely outside I asked, “Do you think she’s safe here by herself?”
He looked back at the house, as though waiting for the structure to provide an answer. “People show their true colors when there’s an inheritance involved. Still, without proof that someone was in the house without invitation, there’s nothing we can do.”
I watched him drive off, my mind churning over the events of the last few hours.
Someone approached from behind me and I turned, surprised to see Sarah standing there.
“You doing all right?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I’m hanging in. My relatives have never liked me very much but this was extreme, even for them.”
“Too bad you didn’t see this coming.” The words were out before I’d really thought them through and I back peddled immediately, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that was your fault or anything—”
She waved it away. “Forget it. But just so you know, I can’t see anything pertaining to myself.”
“Really?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms over her midsection. “Me or anybody who is important to me, it’s like a giant blind spot.”
“Why do you think that is?” I asked as we headed back to the house.
She bit her lip, looking younger and more vulnerable somehow. “It’s frightening enough to know what will happen before it does to other people. If I saw something about myself or to someone I loved, it would paralyze me.”
“How long have you had your gift?”
She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “As long as I can remember, from birth probably. Family lore says there can only be one seer at a time. If I hadn’t been predestined for the gift, I wonder if she would have lived.”
Though it was completely inappropriate, I took her hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s not your fault, Sarah. I know how it is though. When my parents died, I blamed myself for not being home with them, wondering if I had been, if I could have changed it. Thinking like that doesn’t do a lick of good though and it will drive you crazy if you let it.”
“People already think I’m crazy.”
“Then you are in good company,” I told her.