Cursed (Decorah Security #21) - Rebecca York Page 0,34
do to help Janet get the meal ready.
The housekeeper pointed her toward the drawers where the cutlery was kept, and she was setting the table when Andre came into the kitchen. She’d been listening for him, but somehow, he’d snuck up on her, silent as a cat. Her hand shook, and she dropped a fork on the table, hearing the clatter above the sound of Janet making her final dinner preparations.
“I’ll wear lumberjack boots next time,” he said, sounding like he was trying for a playful tone.
“No harm done,” she answered in the same tone.
It looked like he’d dressed carefully for dinner, in a crisp dress shirt and dark slacks. And she was glad she’d changed into a simple knit dress and sandals.
Turning away from Andre, she found Janet watching them. Caught staring, the housekeeper quickly whirled back to the stove. But she hadn’t hidden her interest
What was her stake in this? Probably she wanted Andre to solve his problems. Probably she was wondering if Morgan was the right person for the job, and she hadn’t made up her mind yet.
Meanwhile, she made a good buffer between the other two diners.
When they were all seated and had served themselves, they ate in silence, until Janet jumped in with a question the way she had at breakfast.
“So where do you live in Baltimore?”
“Not really Baltimore. Beltsville. It’s actually closer to Washington, DC. I live in one of the new apartments they’ve built in the area.
Changing the subject, she tipped her head toward Andre. “Your turn. Where did you go to school?”
“If you mean kindergarten through high school—in St. Germaine.”
“What about college?”
He shifted in his chair. “I didn’t go beyond high school.”
She struggled to hide her surprise, but it apparently showed on her face.
“I was needed at home. My father was sick, and I had to run the estate.”
“At eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re obviously very intelligent. You’re interested in a lot of subjects. You should have gone on with your schooling.” Realizing that probably sounded condescending, she closed her mouth before she could stick her foot in any farther.
“You don’t have to go to college to be well read. That’s one of the reasons I have so many books. If a subject draws me, I read about it.”
Morgan nodded.
“You ought to have seen him when he was three,” Janet chimed in. “He taught himself to read. He’d come to me with a book and point to a word and say— ‘does that say yellow?’ or ‘does that say neighborhood?’ And it would. He picked up reading with a little help from me. When he was eight, he sent away for a kit and built a color TV set because his father wouldn’t buy one.”
A look flashed between Andre and the housekeeper, and Morgan could see that their relationship was strong.
“You helped his mother take care of him?” she asked.
The woman’s features contorted. “His mother left,” she said.
“Janet raised me,” Andre said gently.
“What about your father?”
“He was usually holed up in the library.”
Morgan was about to ask another question when Andre glanced up. As he looked toward the window, the blood drained from his face.
“What?” she asked, wondering what he’d seen.
“I forgot the time,” he said, his deep voice turning hollow.
“It’s cloudy out,” Janet answered. That’s why it’s so dark.”
“Maybe,” he muttered. Shoving back his chair, he bolted from the room. Moments later, she heard the back door slam.
Morgan pushed her chair away from the table and started to follow him. Janet jumped up and grabbed her arm. “Let him go.”
“Where?”
The woman gave her a fierce look, then made an effort to relax her features. “Out,” she said, making it clear that she wasn’t going to answer any more questions about Andre’s strange behavior.
Snatching his plate from the table, she carried it to the counter, covered it with plastic wrap and stuck it in the refrigerator.
Morgan wavered for a minute. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll go up. Thank you for a delicious dinner.”
“You don’t have to leave—just because he did.”
She debated staying in the kitchen and trying some other question on the housekeeper. She had the feeling she’d be wasting her time—since both of them were now on edge. So, she repeated her thanks, left the room, and headed for the stairs. Before she got there, she changed her mind and went back to the library. Switching on the lights, she scanned the shelves, amazed all over again by the wide variety of subjects—especially now that she knew that Andre’s higher education