4:37 p.m.
“THANKS FOR agreeing to speak with me, Ms. Rain.”
“Of course. Ms. Hughes thought I could help. I just have one request, and this is on the advice of the family lawyer. Please don’t record this interview.”
Veena Lion pretended to give it some thought. “Okay, I won’t.”
While Veena paused, she took a quick mental snapshot of Maya Rain, who did not appear to be your stereotypical home-wrecker. Her lithe body was clad in a tailored Banana Republic top and pants—rugged enough for someone who chased after children all day, classy enough for a member of the Hughes household’s staff.
“Can you say that out loud?” Rain said, smiling.
“You want me to say that I’m not recording our conversation?”
“Thank you.”
As a rule, Veena recorded all of her conversations. This was a matter of habit as well as personal protection. She was forever in pursuit of the truth, and while the truth could be twisted, tape never lied. But something told Veena it was best to relax that rule for the moment.
Veena matched Maya’s warm smile with one of her own. “How did you come to work for the Hughes family?”
“Everybody in town has a salacious story about that,” Maya said, blushing a little. “You know, rumors that Archie picked me up while I was waiting tables at Gullifty’s or stripping at Delilah’s or something along those lines.”
“Is that where you were working before you came to take care of the kids?”
“Which one, the family restaurant or the high-end strip club?”
Veena could tell Maya was teasing her. “You tell me.”
“The truth is much more boring than that, I’m afraid. I’m working toward my master’s in psychology at Villanova, and my adviser recommended me for the job. There was a lot of competition from people in the department because, you know, the Eagles and all that. But I’m not even a football fan.”
“Don’t let anyone hear you say that in this town,” Veena said.
“Tell me about it! It’s better to admit you’re a mass murderer or something.”
“Did you grow up on the Main Line?”
“No. Pretty much the opposite of the Main Line—Buckhannon, West Virginia. Ever hear of it?”
“I’m afraid not,” Veena lied. She recalled the 2006 mining disaster near Buckhannon that took a dozen lives, and she’d seen a documentary focusing on the town’s opioid epidemic. And she could hear echoes of Appalachia in Maya’s voice, which Maya took great pains to hide. She probably hadn’t become “Maya Rain” until she’d crossed the state line into Pennsylvania.
“Then you’re just like everyone else,” Maya said, examining the tops of her shoes. “I’ll admit, Buckhannon doesn’t have a lot going for it. I spent years saving up my babysitting money so I could escape. And strangely enough, all of that work landed me here, taking care of the sweetest children in the world.”
“Here’s what bothers me,” Veena said.
Maya’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”
“You’re too good to be true.”
“I’ve been told that,” Maya said. She laughed. “But all I do is clean up messes. It’s pretty simple, really.”
“Seriously, though, do you enjoy your work with the Hughes family?”
“Are you kidding? Archie and Maddie are amazing. Even now—especially now, going through the shock and grief of losing Archie…” She seemed to search for words. “I hope that someday I’ll be as strong as Mrs. Hughes and those kids. Want to meet them?”