CHAPTER FIVE

"So you want me to stop looking into your sister's disappearance and do a background check on your employers instead?"

Sean's surprise is understandable. After pressuring him to continue his investigation into Annie's background only a few days ago, I'm not asking him to put that investigation on hold so he can find answers about the Jensens.

"I know it seems unusual."

"It seems nosy. Why are you trying to dig up skeletons in the Jensens' closet? I told you when they first reached out to you that they didn't have any. Do you honestly think that after three different families saw themselves facing murder charges from your investigations that a family with secrets would approach you to work for them?"

"They didn't approach me directly," I say, keeping my voice low so no one will eavesdrop on our phone conversation. "Frederick is an acquaintance of Robert Tyler. Mr. Tyler recommended me when he heard that Fred was looking for a caretaker for his children."

"Let's not quibble on the details," Sean says.

"But it's the details that matter the most," I reply. "And it's details I need from you. Specifically what Thomas Keller does for Frederick's business."

He pauses briefly. "So you don't want me to look for criminal records on the family."

"If I wanted that, I would just look through public records," I tell him. "If there is crime in this household, we both know it's not on record. What I want from you is information on Thomas Keller."

"Why him specifically?"

"I don't know. If I knew, then I wouldn't ask you."

Sean sighs heavily. "Mary, please tell me exactly what you want me to do. I can't work with unclear instructions."

"I would like you to look into Thomas Keller's work with Jensen Wealth Management. Officially, he's their estate manager, but he does work for the hedge fund on the side. I want to know what that work is and whether any of that work could be the cause of conflict within the family."

"Why?"

"Because there is a wedge between Frederick and his wife, and I believe that wedge is also driving a wedge between the parents and their children. It's my responsibility to care for these children, but I can't care for them unless I know exactly what is hurting them."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. You don't need to know what rules Jensen Wealth Management is breaking to know how to care for children. You're just snooping."

My face flames. "I never ‘just' snoop, Sean. I assure you there is a reason for every decision I make. I am paying you a handsome some of money to work for me, and I would like you to use your talents to determine whether Thomas Keller is facilitating activities that could explain the conflict that is affecting this family."

"So you want your suspicions of financial crimes confirmed?"

"Or proven to be invalid," I say. "We'll start there."

"We'll start there?"

"Should I increase your rate?"

He sighs again. "No, that's all right. I'll look into Keller." Half to himself, he grumbles, "I didn't imagine I'd end up being errand boy to a governess."

"If you didn't enjoy it at least a little bit, you'd quit," I retort.

He hangs up, and I stifle a chuckle as I place my phone back in my handbag.

I head to the kitchen to make myself some lunch. The children have left with their mother, and since they neglected to tell me when they'd return, I'll have to stay in the living area so I can be visibly available. I'll have to set some expectations when it comes to my availability and the children's schedule, but I'll save that for later. I want to know a little more about the people I'm working for before I decide how many demands I can make.

I walk into the kitchen to find Sophie preparing sandwiches. Two sandwiches. She looks up when I walk in and says, "Ah! There you are. I figured you'd be hungry, so I made some sandwiches for us. Tea's on the kettle. Earl Grey, I assume?"

I stare at her in amazement. "You're a lifesaver!" I blurt out.

She laughs, and I can't help but smile. Perhaps it's a bit impolite of me to say this, but the plump, jolly Sophie brings to mind an image of Mrs. Claus. She seems perfectly suited to a life of tending to others' happiness.

"Someone in this house has to think of basic necessities," she says. "The Jensens live on some planet of wealth where necessities just materialize in front of them without effort. The other servants are too snooty to step one foot outside of their jobs, and Keller… well, he's well-meaning, but he's a secretary more than he's an estate manager. Don't let him fool you. It's me who runs this household."

"I believe you."

And I do. Mr. Keller doesn't seem to know even what his job is. Of all the people I've met here, Sophie is the one who appears most well put together.

The kettle boils, and Sophie sets it on a service with two cups and saucers, a jar of sugar and a crock of cream. As an Englishwoman, I can't tell you how gratifying it is to see a proper tea service. If there was ever a change proposed to the British flag, it should be a full tea service complete with biscuits.

And God love this woman, but she brings out a tin of biscuits and places it on the service. I meet her eyes and say sincerely, "Sophie, I believe I will marry you."

She laughs and tosses her hair saucily. "If you insist, but I will wear the tuxedo."

"Wear whatever you want. I ask only that you make me tea every day for the rest of my life."

"Done!" She lifts the service and the platter of sandwiches and deftly makes her way to the dining room. "Before you ask, yes, we're allowed to use the main dining room so long as the family isn't using it and we clean our mess. If there's one upside to working for Americans, it's that their rules when it comes to propriety are far less rigid than the rules across the pond."

"So I've heard."

I join her at the table and allow her to pour me a tea. When she places one lump of sugar in the glass and adds just a spot of cream without needing to be told, my love for her increases. I've had very few true friends in life. After Annie leaves, I withdraw inward, and I suppose I remain that way long enough that I grow comfortable with it. So I rarely make friends. Perhaps it's too soon to hope that Sophie and I can become close, but I allow myself the hope anyway.

Still, I have a job to do. Sean is looking into Thomas, and thus obliquely into Frederick's business. If anyone has information on the household that can help me understand this family's dynamics, it's Sophie.

So, I ask, "How long have you worked for the Jensens?"

"Thirty-two years and a fortnight as of today," she replies. She notices my expression and smiles. "Yes, I started when I was a girl. Fifteen years old, to be exact. Frederick was… let's see… it was right after he finished his undergraduate work, so… twenty-two."

"Did your family work for the Jensens?"

"Oh, no. Father was a pig farmer in Derby, and mother a happily devoted farmer's wife. They were very unhappy when I accepted Frederick's offer of employ."

"He hired you so young?"

"He did. He was enchanted with my cooking." She once again notices my expression and laughs. "It wasn't like that, don't worry. He's never been anything but a perfect gentleman to me."

Her smile fades a little when she says that, however, so I doubt she's being perfectly honest with me. "So you were around when he met Catherine."

"I was. What a surprise it was when he proposed to her, let me tell you."

Now I'm getting somewhere. "Oh?"

"Oh my, yes. Frederick was quite the ladies' man before he met Catherine. No, not with me . I already told you, he's been a perfect gentleman with me. But with others… well, he told you how they met, right?"

"He was hosting the contestants of the Geneva Fashion Show, and Catherine was among them."

"Yes. Also the New York Fashion Show. And the London Fashion Show. And the Paris one. And Rome and Madrid and Tokyo."

My eyes widen. "I see."

"Oh yes. Frederick certainly has a type." Her face hardens slightly. "Cold, contemptuous, aloof ice queens. And Catherine was their empress."

I wonder if perhaps Sophie may wish that Frederick hadn't been a perfect gentleman to her. She smiles at me and for the third time proves able to read my face. "I'm not jealous. Heavens, Mary, but you so desperately want me to be enamored with him. No, despite the age difference favoring Frederick, I feel—and always have—like more of an elder sister than a love interest. The man simply wouldn't take care of himself if not for me.

"As for Catherine," her face hardens again. "I can't pretend I love her. I don't hate her, but as I said, she is cold and contemptuous. Her entire persona is based around being superior to everyone around her. She craves attention, not so she can bask in it but so she can make it clear to her admirers that they are unworthy of having that attention reciprocated." She sips her tea. "I didn't think their marriage would last, to be honest. But Frederick still loves her despite everything, and Catherine couldn't bear to admit defeat in something so serious as marriage. So, they continue."

I risk probing a little further. "Despite everything?"

She takes another sip of tea and looks at me shrewdly. "I think I've said enough for now."

Blood rushes to my cheeks. "Of course. I apologize. I didn't mean to pry."

She laughs and pats my hand affectionately. "Oh, Mary! You're so adorably proper! Of course, you did! Just as I meant to gossip! We're two old British birds, Mary. There's no point in hiding our nature. Besides, I only said that's enough for now. We have many conversations to look forward to, and I have three decades of gossip to share. I won't pretend that I'm going to hide anything from you for long."

I hide my disappointment well, I think. I would rather not wait for the gossip, but I suppose patience is a virtue I must learn to possess. "I look forward to many engaging luncheons with you, Sophie."

The rest of our conversation is mundane. She talks to me about growing up on a pig farm in Derby. I talk about life as an elementary school teacher in Boston.

It's not until after lunch is cleared that it occurs to me that I also have chosen to withhold the more interesting facts of my life. For example, I don't mention Annie at all. We are fast becoming friends, but even among extroverted people such as ourselves, some secrets are too dark to reveal.

For a while, at least.