Crimson Twilight by Heather Graham Page A

sound horrible. But she came in here all the time and was rude.”
    “I applied to work at the castle,” Genie said. “She looked at me as if I were flypaper. I didn’t stand a chance. I wasn’t pretty enough.”
    “You’re quite pretty!” Sloan told her.
    Which was true.
    “Oh, no! Mrs. Avery wanted really pretty girls to work there. Even as maids. I mean, who cares what your maid looks like if she does a good job?”
    “Hmmph!” Mary said. “That woman wanted to tease Emil. She wanted to get him going with whoever she brought in. And then remind him, of course, that he had a position in life, even if he wasn’t fulfilling it. She just wanted to mess with that man.”
    “She’s gone now,” Genie reminded her.
    Mary crossed herself. “It’s not good to speak ill of the dead.”
    “But truth is truth,” Genie said. “The reverend? He was a good man.”
    “Bad heart, though,” Mary said.
    “Oh, dear!” Genie said. “We are terrible. What would you like to eat?”
    “What’s fast?” Sloan asked.
    “The special. Stew,” Genie said.
    “We’ll take it,” Logan told her.
    “Sounds delicious,” Sloan said.
    It was actually terrible, or maybe it just seemed terrible because they’d been eating Chef’s food. But it was fast and filling and they were out of there in no time. Sloan wasn’t sure what they’d gained, but they’d gained something.
    “Mrs. Avery was quite a manipulator,” Sloan said.
    “She was so determined to seduce Emil Roth with the maids, but he went and fell in love with Scully Adair,” Logan mused.
    Sloan looked at him. “Do we know what happened before he fell in love with Scully Adair?”
    “It would be interesting to find out,” Logan said.
     
    * * * *
     
    Jane was amazed at how quickly the day ended and darkness fell. It seemed that they’d just awoken with Mrs. Avery at the foot of the stairs. Then the police had come and begun their investigation. She had spoken with Angela, Kelsey had hob-knobbed with the kitchen staff and maids, and Logan and Sloan had headed to the autopsy. The hours had flown by, and as she came down the stairs, she could hear Detective Forester in the Great Hall. He’d certainly taken a long time with every single person who’d been in the house. She listened a second and realized from the slow answers he was receiving that Forester was now questioning Mr. Green. She thought about stopping by the kitchen, but decided to head on to the chapel.
    She needed to talk with John McCawley.
    She headed out again, just as she had the night before. There was no moonlight yet, the autumn sun fading, a brooding darkness hanging over the cliffs brought on by an overcast sky. She’d exited by the front to avoid running into anyone at the rear. She walked around the castle, from the manicured front to the wild and atmospheric rear, and hurried to the chapel.
    John McCawley was waiting in front of the altar, staring up at it.
    “Did you see her?” he asked, turning. “Did you see my Elizabeth?”
    “I did,” she told him. “And I told her and, of course, you know that she loves you. She thinks she was murdered. She didn’t kill herself.”
    “What?” he asked.
    “She believes that there was a maid at the house—Margaret or Molly—who wanted her father’s attention. And that Molly believed that she could start by ridding the world of the two of you. And Molly had a brother—”
    “David,” John told her. “He was always coming to the stables, asking for any extra work.”
    “She believes that David shot you and that Molly poisoned her.”
    “Can you prove it?”
    “Probably not after all these years,” Jane said. “But you know. The two of you know. Maybe that’s enough.”
    His face darkened and he began to frown. Jane thought that she had said something that disturbed him. But then she realized that he was looking behind her.
    She spun around.
    And saw a figure dressed in black.
    She started to draw her Glock, but before she could