The Secrets She Kept

But she’d assumed he’d stay for a few days, maybe a week at most. If Josephine’s death turned into a full-fledged murder investigation, who could say how long Keith might remain on Fairham?

“Hopefully, he’ll have too much business in California,” she muttered and decided to get her grocery shopping done before taking Simba for a walk.

5 (#u8ed10f00-acea-5fdf-aa03-d128a18c557a)

A KNOCK ON his bedroom door woke Keith. He’d been up so late the sun was about to rise when he’d fallen asleep. His mind had been too busy to let go—and it didn’t help that he was still on California time. With the shades drawn, he’d slept late as a result.

“Mr. Lazarow?”

He yawned and adjusted his pillow. “Come in.”

Pippa poked her head into the room. “I hate to disturb you, sir, but your sister is here and would like to speak to you.”

Keith’s first thought was of the letters he’d found in his mother’s desk and the odd, haunting sensation that reading those letters had given him. He’d loved his mother; he even missed her, in a way. They’d had some good times. But loving someone and being able to get along for more than an occasional day or two were sometimes different things, at least when it came to Josephine.

I had to leave to survive, he reminded himself. But he’d been reminding himself of that ever since he’d received word of her death.

“Sir?”

Rising up on one elbow, Keith blinked at the housekeeper. “I called you last night,” he mumbled.

“Yes. By the time I got your message, it was too late to call you back. But...thank you for telling me I can return to work.”

Except for the extra gray in her hair, she hadn’t changed a bit. She was still wearing her crisp blue and white uniform, as if she’d stepped out of the 1960s South—or as if his mother was around to make a fuss if she didn’t. “Just so you know...you don’t have to wear that anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

He almost repeated himself, then sighed. “Never mind.” Perhaps she gained as much comfort from custom and tradition as his mother had. In any case, now wasn’t the time to challenge such trivial things.

His bleary eyes sought the fancy perpetual-motion clock on the nightstand. It was nearly eleven. He’d had all of five hours’ sleep. “You said Maisey was here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where?”

“In the drawing room.”

“Why didn’t she come up?”

“To your bedroom?”

He nearly laughed out loud. Pippa had been trained by his mother, all right. “No, of course not. That would be unseemly,” he said. “Tell her I’ll be down as soon as I get dressed.”

“Yes, sir. And...Mr. Lazarow?”

He paused before throwing off the covers. If Pippa was scandalized by the idea of his sister coming straight up to his bedroom, she’d probably faint if she saw him buck naked, the way he liked to sleep. “It’s good to have you back, sir. I’m sorry your return is under such dreadful circumstances.”

She sounded sincere, so sincere that it took him off guard. “You liked her, didn’t you?”

She seemed startled by the question. “Her?”

“My mother. You liked her.”

“She was a dynamic person,” she said as she left.

Keith fell back on his pillows. Even Pippa had admired Josephine but couldn’t quite say she’d liked her. “Pippa?” he called in an effort to catch her before she could move out of hearing distance.

Now that she’d done her duty by letting him know he had a visitor, his door inched open only as far as necessary. “Yes, sir?”

“I’d like to talk to you after Maisey leaves. Will you be around?”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me. With Maisey’s permission, I stayed home for the past few days. I was too upset to do much else. But I was grateful you offered to have me back today. I’ve been coming here for so long. And the place needs looking after.”

“I understand. I’d rather you stayed on and continued to do your job. I’ll see to it that you get paid. I’ve told Tyrone the same.”

“Yes, I saw Tyrone on my way in, sir. It was a comforting sight. I believe it’s a good decision to keep him. We couldn’t have the yard here at Coldiron House getting overgrown.”

Obviously, she took great pride in where she worked. “No. That would be a real tragedy.”

She hesitated, as if she could tell he was being facetious, even though his first tongue-in-cheek comment about the impropriety of Maisey’s coming to his room had sailed right past her. She seemed to be waiting for some further cue from him, so he said, “That will be all, thanks,” and she left without additional comment.

He waited for the sound of her footsteps to fade before he got up. Then he burrowed through his suitcase for a pair of boxers, jeans and a T-shirt. When he retrieved his phone from the nightstand, he could see that he’d missed several calls from Maisey, as well as a few texts, because he’d turned it on Silent.

Coming, he wrote and sent it to her, although he was confident Pippa had already conveyed that information, and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair.

By the time he hurried downstairs and entered the drawing room, Pippa had served Maisey tea and biscuits with honey and jam. He wasn’t groggy anymore, but traipsing around Coldiron House without his mother in residence felt odd. She’d always taken complete command of her home, even when his father was alive. She’d been such a dominant presence for so long, it was easy to forget Grandpa Coldiron had lived here first.

At the sound of his approach, his sister swallowed the bite she’d just taken and looked up. “Morning.”

“Same to you,” he said.

“You sleep okay?”

Her skeptical expression told him he didn’t look rested. “Not really. You?”

“Sort of.”

“Where’s my niece and my nephew? Are the kids with Rafe?”

“They’re at his mother’s. He’s repairing the vestibule of that old church near the marina today.”

“Will you bring the family over later?”

“Of course.” She lowered her voice. “I’d rather Laney didn’t hear us talking about her grandmother the way we need to this morning. Laney might be one of the few people who’s never felt conflicted when it comes to Grandma Josephine. And, oddly enough, Mother loved her. Inexplicably. Diligently. Even kindly.”

“That’s somewhat redeeming.” He helped himself to a biscuit without bothering to sit down or get a plate—something his mother would never have tolerated. “Have you heard anything new?”

“I stopped the autopsy.”