Читать книгу Married To The Mop - Barbara Colley - Страница 11

The man was almost nose-to-nose with Charlotte before he stopped. “Where is he?” he shouted.

Charlotte eased back a step. “Wh-who?” she choked out, her insides quivering with terror.

“Robert!” he sneered. “I want to see Robert, and I want to see him right now!”

Charlotte swallowed hard. Where on earth were the bodyguards? And why hadn’t they stopped this maniac? Suddenly her own temper erupted. How dare this man burst in like a raging lion, shouting at her, making demands, and scaring her spitless?

Though still a bit shaken and keeping a wary eye on him, Charlotte took a deep breath, stretched to her full five-foot-three inches, and in a stern, no-nonsense voice that she rarely used unless provoked, said, “Whom should I say wants to see him? If he’s available,” she added. But just as she backed away with the intentions of heading straight for the library, the rude man shoved past her.

“Never mind,” he snarled. “I’ll find him myself.”

“Hey! Stop!” Charlotte hurried after him as he marched out of the kitchen and headed for the library. Where in the devil were those bodyguards and why hadn’t they stopped him to begin with?

Other than tackling the man, something she had no intentions of doing, there wasn’t a whole lot that Charlotte could do as she trailed behind him. In no time he reached the library, and before she could stop him he shoved open the door and stomped into the room.

Charlotte quickly entered behind him. There were four people in the room: Robert, the two men she’d met earlier, and Sophia. All turned to stare first at the man, then at Charlotte.

But the man ignored them, all except for Sophia. At the sight of the elderly lady, he hurried over to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and kissed the top of her head. It was then that Charlotte noticed Sophia’s red-rimmed eyes and her too-pale face. It was evident that she was upset about something, but what?

“What in the devil are you doing here?”

Robert’s question was directed at the man, and the sound of his voice pulled Charlotte back to the problem at hand. Taking a deep breath, she faced Robert Rossi. “Mr. Rossi, I’m so sorry, but this rude man insisted on seeing you.”

Robert Rossi’s expression hardened as he glared at the man for several tension-filled moments. Then finally, with a resigned sigh, he said, “It’s okay, Charlotte. This hotheaded man is my youngest brother, Joe. I apologize if he was rude to you.”

Charlotte swallowed hard, and when Robert made a dismissing motion with his hand, Charlotte figured that was her cue to leave the room. But as she closed the door behind her, Joe let loose a string of expletives that burned Charlotte’s ears.

“You thought you’d pull a fast one, didn’t you?” Joe shouted. “Well I’m here to tell you that there’s no way I’m letting you put Mama away in that hellhole you call a retirement home. And neither will Mario or Tony when they find out. Mama is not crazy! If anyone around here is crazy, it’s you!”

Charlotte paused outside the door. In spite of Joe’s initial rudeness, she figured that surely a man who cared so much about his mother couldn’t be all bad. Though she didn’t approve of eavesdropping, she stood frozen in the hallway, mesmerized by the heated conversation between the brothers.

“Shut up, Joe, and I’ll explain,” Robert ground out, his tone cold and menacing.

Joe laughed, but the sound was insolent and bitter. “What’s to explain?” he retorted. “What Mama needs is her family, not strangers. But you’re too pigheaded and greedy to see that? First Papa and now Mama. She’d go crazy for sure in a place like that. And what about the Medinas?”

“I’m warning you, Joe.”

“Warn all you want,” Joe shouted. “But if you go through with the Medina job, there will be payback. With Mama in that place, she’ll be a sitting duck with no one to protect her.”

The Medina job? Payback? Charlotte felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. This was some serious stuff, not the kind of conversation meant for an outsider’s ears.

With her knees knocking and as quietly as possible, Charlotte eased back away from the door. If they caught her listening…

“Shut up, Joe!” Robert roared. “Shut your stink’n mouth and get out or I’ll have you thrown out.”

“Throw me out!” Joe shouted back. “But you’re not getting away with this. I’ve already lost a father because of you, and I’ll be damned if I lose Mama too. I’ll see you in hell first!”

The voices faded as Charlotte tiptoed away from the library. Certain that at any minute, someone would come out of the library and catch her, she didn’t breathe easy until she reached the kitchen doorway.

“That’s what you get for eavesdropping,” she muttered, disgusted with herself for giving in to the temptation.

The words had no sooner left her lips than she heard the library door bang open and Joe’s voice echo down the hall. “This ain’t over, Robert!” he yelled. “Not by a long shot!”

He was finally leaving. Best to look busy. Charlotte hurried over to the sink. Seconds later Joe stomped through the kitchen and, without even a glance her way, stormed out the back door. For once, Charlotte was truly grateful that no one ever paid attention to the maid.

Charlotte jumped when the back door slammed shut. Someone should really teach that man some manners, she thought as his dire words kept swirling in her head. But if you go through with the Medina job, there will be payback.

With a shudder, Charlotte grabbed the mop she’d left propped against the sink cabinet, dunked it into the mop bucket then squeezed out the excess water. Best not to think about what she’d heard, she decided. And healthier. The sooner she finished her chores, the sooner she could leave. She slapped the mop onto the floor and began mopping as if her very life depended on how soon she could get the chore done.

She was almost halfway finished when she heard a commotion in the hallway and froze. What if Robert suspected that she’d overheard the confrontation? Though she kept telling herself that there was no way he could have known she was eavesdropping, she held her breath.

Footsteps went past the kitchen entrance, and Charlotte finally breathed. Maybe the guests were leaving.

“We’ll see you tomorrow night,” she heard one of the men tell Robert.

The footsteps continued on toward the front door. They were leaving, thank the good Lord.

“And don’t worry about Joe,” the man continued, his voice muffled but still audible. “He’ll come around.”

The man’s voice faded, but his words still echoed in Charlotte’s head. He’ll come around? What did that mean? Charlotte grabbed the mop bucket and headed for the laundry room. Had he meant that Joe would agree to putting Sophia in a home…? But if you go through with the Medina job, there will be payback…or had he meant that Joe would go along with whatever they had planned for the Medinas?

Charlotte took a deep breath. This is none of your business. Just do your job and get out. She hefted the mop bucket and dumped the dirty water into the laundry sink.

“Charlotte?”

Charlotte frowned at the sound of Sophia’s voice and hurried back into the kitchen.

Still pale and looking even more fragile than she had in the library earlier, Sophia attempted a weak smile. “There you are,” she said. “If anyone comes looking for me, I’ve gone up to my room and I’d rather not be disturbed.”

Charlotte gave the elderly lady a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be leaving soon. Before I leave though, can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

“Oh, bless your heart, but no, thank you.” Sophia shook her head. “I just need to rest a while. See you tomorrow. You are coming back tomorrow, aren’t you?”

Charlotte nodded. She had no choice. If she didn’t come back, Robert might get suspicious.

“Good. See you then.”

After Sophia disappeared, Charlotte began gathering her supplies. Within minutes she had everything rounded up. All she had left was to find Emily and let her know that she was leaving.

Suddenly a shout loud enough to wake the dead reverberated throughout the house and Charlotte jumped.

“Emily! Get in here!”

Charlotte frowned. Robert again. What now? She poked her head outside the kitchen doorway just in time to see Emily hurrying down the hall toward the library.

With intentions of catching Emily before she reached the library, so she could tell her that she was leaving, Charlotte called out, “Emily.” But Emily didn’t slow down or even indicate that she’d heard Charlotte.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked when she reached the library doorway.

“Another one’s missing!” Robert snapped. “That’s what’s wrong.”

Another what was missing? Charlotte wondered, but as she moved closer, she heard Robert let loose a string of curse words that made her cringe with distaste, and she thought better of interrupting.

Emily stepped into the library. “There were twenty eggs when I counted this morning,” Robert shouted. “Now there are only seventeen. Three more are missing. That makes five in the past two weeks. I want to know who took them.”

Charlotte frowned as she eased back down the hall toward the kitchen. Emily hadn’t mentioned that someone was stealing the Fabergé eggs when she’d showed them to her earlier. Even so, that would explain why she had been so particular about the instructions she’d given.

“So where are they?” Robert yelled.

“I—I don’t know.” Emily’s voice quavered with fear. “Maybe one of the bodyguards is stealing them.”

Robert cursed, and at the sudden sound of a crash, Charlotte froze. “What on earth?” she whispered.

As if in answer to the question, sounds of deep wracking sobs erupted from inside the library. “No, please, Robert,” Emily pleaded in between sobs. “I don’t know who’s stealing them.” Her voice rose. “I’m sorry, I’m—”

The sudden silence unnerved Charlotte and her imagination went wild as flashes of Robert’s weapon collection flitted through her mind. Surely he wouldn’t…Charlotte shook her head as if the action would make the evil notion disappear. Torn between checking on Emily and minding her own business, she groaned in frustration. What to do? What to do?

Don’t be such a coward. Just do it.

Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage around her like a suit of armor, Charlotte took determined steps toward the library. She had almost reached the entrance when Emily suddenly appeared in the doorway, her face ravaged, her hands clutching her stomach. When Emily saw Charlotte, her red-rimmed eyes widened in startled surprise.

“I—I was just about to leave,” Charlotte told her softly.

Emily’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded. “Be-before you go,” she whispered, “c-could you please clean up the mess in the library? Th-there’s some broken glass.” Without another word, Emily brushed past her, but not before Charlotte saw her lean forward and wince as if in pain.

For several moments, all Charlotte could do was watch until Emily disappeared around the end of the hallway. Though she didn’t want to believe it, every bone in her body ached with outrage; deep down she knew what had happened. Just as sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west, Charlotte was certain that Robert Rossi, in a fit of rage over the stupid missing eggs, had punched his wife in the stomach. Charlotte figured that this time he’d hit her in the stomach so there wouldn’t be visible bruises like the last time. After all, it wouldn’t look good for their party guests to speculate as to how Emily received a bruise on her face.

Charlotte glared furiously at the library door. Her temper flared and her outrage boiled within. Any man who hit a woman was reprehensible and a low-down coward. Someone should take Robert Rossi out and give him a good old-fashioned horse-whipping.

Slowly though, Charlotte’s fury subsided. When all was said and done, there wasn’t one thing she could do about the situation. She hadn’t actually witnessed the assault, so she couldn’t call the police. Only Emily could file a complaint. For right now the best thing she could do was simply do as Emily had asked and clean up the mess.

Charlotte turned and trudged down the hall. She retrieved the broom, the dustpan, and a paper bag from the laundry room, but just before she stepped through the kitchen doorway into the hall, a noise caught her attention and she paused.

Whispers, she decided after listening a moment. Someone was whispering. The bodyguards? Or the children? It was certainly possible that the children had overheard their father’s rampage. They would have to be deaf not to have.

And I’m going to kill him just like he killed Papa, if he hurts Mama again.

Snippets of the conversation she’d overheard between Amanda and Brandon earlier flitted through her head. Fully expecting to see the two children hovering near the staircase, Charlotte stepped out of the kitchen. With a frown, she craned her head first one way, then another, searching the foyer area and the stairwell, but no one was there.

Now she was hearing things. “Great,” she muttered. Next thing, she’d be seeing ghosts. “Just peachy.”

Once back at the library door, Charlotte took a deep breath, knocked on the door frame a couple of times, then stepped inside.

Robert was standing with his back to her, hands on his hips, staring at the glass-enclosed shelves that contained his egg collection.

Charlotte cleared her throat. “Emily asked me to clean up the broken glass.”

Robert said nothing and didn’t bother to even acknowledge her presence. Feeling a bit uneasy, Charlotte looked around. The mess wasn’t hard to find. Broken glass and a bouquet of mangled silk flowers were scattered on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was an arrangement that she had noticed on the mantel earlier when she had cleaned the library. Robert must have somehow knocked them over during his fit of rage…. Before he’d punched Emily.

Charlotte’s unease grew even as her temper flared again. She walked over, bent down, gingerly picked up the silk flowers, and shook them gently to rid them of any shards of glass. Then she placed them back on the mantel.

As she swept the glass into the dustpan, she was careful to keep a wary eye on Robert. More than once she had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him just exactly what she thought. But each time she got the urge, her gaze strayed to the wall where his collections of weapons hung. There were handguns, rifles, and one particular nasty-looking gun large enough to kill an elephant. Then there were the knives, every size imaginable, the blades gleaming with menace. Charlotte shuddered.

By the time Charlotte had finished sweeping up the glass, Robert had yet to move a muscle, and he continued to stare at the eggs as if frozen or hypnotized.

With a one-shouldered shrug, Charlotte dumped the broken glass into the paper sack, then, armed with the sack, dustpan, and broom, she backed out of the room.

On Friday morning it was with great trepidation that Charlotte forced herself return to the Rossi household. True to Emily’s word, the bodyguards recognized her and allowed her to enter the house without searching her or her cleaning supplies.

Since Emily wasn’t at the door to greet her this time, Charlotte went straight to the kitchen and began cleaning.

Half an hour later she had just finished loading the dishwasher when Emily walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Charlotte.”

“Good morning.” Charlotte turned, but her smile of greeting melted. Emily was dressed and every hair on her head was in place, just like yesterday. But there was something different about her, something that Charlotte couldn’t quite put her finger on. For one thing, not even her makeup could cover the pallor of her face. But it was more than that. Emily’s eyes had a look of sadness tinged with a bit of fear, and there was a subdued air about her that made Charlotte want to reach out to comfort her and reassure her that whatever was wrong could be fixed.

“Are you feeling okay?” Charlotte asked.

Emily flashed her a tiny fake smile. “Just a bit tired. I didn’t sleep too well last night.” She shrugged. “Just stress. Guess I’m uptight about this party. And speaking of the party, I want to decorate a bit and was hoping that you wouldn’t mind helping me. Not a lot,” she hastened to add. “Just a few things here and there.”

“I’ll be happy to help,” Charlotte reassured her. “But didn’t you want me to clean the carriage house today?”

Emily shrugged and waved away Charlotte’s concern. “You can always clean it tomorrow. Getting ready for the party is more important. I think we should start right after lunch. Will that give you enough time for your other chores?”

“No problem,” Charlotte told her.

Immediately after lunch, Emily instructed the bodyguard named Mark to bring down some boxes from the attic. There were three large boxes in all, which Mark placed on the floor in the kitchen, per Emily’s directions.

When Emily bent down to open the first box, a small moan escaped her lips. Wincing, she placed her hand on her stomach.

She’s sore from being punched. Charlotte felt her temper rising. Mind your own business.

At the moment, the last thing Charlotte felt like was minding her own business, but when, after a moment, Emily resumed digging in the box, Charlotte tried to control her temper.

“I think the tinsel is in this one,” Emily said as she dug around in the box. “I thought we could drape it around in the parlor.”

It turned out that the purple, gold, and green Mardi Gras tinsel was in the last box they opened, and as they draped the shiny strands over the tops of the windows and around the door opening, Emily’s soft moans of pain came more often.

When all the tinsel was used up, Emily opened the second box that contained several large cardboard Mardi Gras masks. She handed Charlotte a stack of the masks. “I think we’ll hang these around the door casing on the parlor side and on the hall side.” She dug around in the box then pulled out several small packages. “We’ll use these to hang the masks.” She handed a package to Charlotte. “It’s mounting adhesive. It will hold them, but it will also come off without leaving a mark.”

While Charlotte worked on the hall side, Emily hung the masks on the parlor side. They were almost finished when the phone rang.

From the face that Emily made, it was clear that the interruption aggravated her. With a sigh, she walked over to a small table by the sofa and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

For several moments Emily simply listened, then, if possible, her face turned even paler than before. “What? You’ve got to be kidding!” Her voice shook with disbelief. “But—but what am I supposed to do?” she cried. Seconds later she hung up the receiver.

Since Emily looked as if she were going to pass out at any minute, Charlotte rushed over to her. “What’s wrong?”

Tears filled Emily’s eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks. A low moan escaped her lips. “Th-that was Thomas with Big Easy Catering—the company catering the party. He’s still bringing the food, but”—she swiped at the tears on her cheeks and stared at the floor—“all of the servers he was providing are sick with the flu,” she said, her voice quivering. “He said that he’d try to find someone to help, but he doubted that anyone would be available.” She raised her head and stared at Charlotte. “There won’t be anyone to serve the food.” She glanced at the fat phone directory next to the telephone. “I—I could try to hire more servers, but with all of the Mardi Gras festivities going on…” She slowly shook her head. “Impossible. What am I going to do?”

Emily staggered over to the sofa and collapsed. Covering her eyes with her hands, she began to cry. “Robert will be furious,” she moaned. “And he’ll blame me if this party doesn’t go well.”

Charlotte rushed over to Emily and knelt down in front of her. “Surely he won’t blame you for something like this—I mean, after all, this type of thing is beyond your control.”

Emily nodded. “Oh, he’ll blame me all right. You just don’t know.”

Charlotte reached up and gently pulled Emily’s hands away from her face. “Then why do you do it, Emily? Why do you stay with him? This is only my second day to work for you, and it’s obvious, even to me, that he abuses you. You don’t have to put up with that.”

Emily stared at Charlotte with dead eyes. “Yes—yes, I do,” she whispered. Then louder she said, “You know who and what my husband is, and you’re a smart enough woman to know why I have to stay.”

Charlotte had no response to give. She did know who and what Robert Rossi was, and from the little she’d seen already, she also knew what he was capable of.

With a last knowing look at Charlotte and a sad little smile, Emily’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Maybe, just maybe I could get a couple of Robert’s men to help,” she whispered. After a moment she shook her head and fresh tears filled her eyes. “That won’t work,” she finally admitted. “None of them know the first thing about being a waiter.”

Charlotte’s heart ached for the younger woman, and though she hated admitting it, she was afraid that Emily was right about there being no way out of her abusive situation, just as there was no solution for her dilemma about the servers. The whole thing was impossible. There was just simply no solution. Unless…