Dark Homecoming by William Patterson Page B

believe she was thinking about David than thinking about Mrs. Hoffman being guilty of murder. Rita didn’t trust Variola; the chef had her own agenda, and she’d use information for her own purposes.
    â€œYou can believe whatever you want,” she said.
    Variola laughed—that magical, tinkly, musical sound—and headed out into the kitchen. Rita let out a breath in relief.
    Perhaps, on second thought, she could trust Variola. After all, Variola had spotted Rita and David together and she’d never said a word. If Variola had told Mrs. Hoffman about the affair with David, the old witch would have definitely fired her—she was very insistent that the staff not fraternize with the Huntingtons. She didn’t even want them sharing the same bathrooms! So Rita was pretty sure that Variola had kept her secret about David.
    Maybe she should take her up on her offer for some potion or some island herb to magically win back David’s love. But Rita hadn’t yet given up on accomplishing that task all on her own.
    It was thinking about David that made everything suddenly so clear to her.
    I know why Mrs. Hoffman killed Audra , she realized.
    Rita’s previous conversation with Variola came back to her. She’d implied that David had had an affair with Audra . . . Rita had dismissed the idea. But what if it was true?
    What if, when she’d discovered Audra’s misbehavior, Mrs. Hoffman had killed her? Maybe it was an impulsive move—a rash act of anger on the housekeeper’s part. How she hated when any staff did not know their place in this house! Audra had dared to impose herself on Mr. Huntington and Mrs. Hoffman had had enough!
    But there had to be more to it than that.
    That was when Rita remembered the obsessive devotion Mrs. Hoffman carried for her late mistress, even now.
    Mrs. Hoffman had worshiped Dominique. Some of the staff even whispered it was sort of an unrequited lesbian crush that the older woman had on the younger. Mrs. Hoffman would follow Dominique around slavishly, attendant on her every need, watching her with eyes filled with adoration as she dropped her robe and dove naked into the swimming pool. After Dominique’s death that day on the boat, Mrs. Hoffman had been devastated. She had insisted that everything be kept as her late mistress had left it, and that Dominique’s enormous portrait remain hanging in the stairwell, as if she were still watching over the house. And how angry she had been when Mr. Huntington had dug up the gardenia bushes, not wanting to be reminded of his late wife.
    So Mrs. Hoffman had killed Audra because she had dared defile the sacred memory of Dominique by sleeping with Dominique’s husband.
    If that was so, then what fate did Mrs. Hoffman have in mind for the new Mrs. Huntington, who was now doing the same thing?
    As Rita began setting the setting the dining table with plates and silverware for lunch, she was hearing Jamison’s words in her head.
    If anything had happened to Mrs. Huntington, and I hadn’t said anything, then I’d be partly to blame.
    Jamison had been worried Audra’s fate might befall little Liz.
    We all have to watch out for each other. That’s Christ’s teaching, right there.
    Rita was torn. If Liz was found stabbed to death, she’d have a pretty good idea who did it. But she’d also have David, free and clear.
    Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Jamison was killed by a burglar, or someone totally unconnected to Huntington House. Maybe he was unstable, and all that talk about moving Audra’s body had just been in his mind. The police had never questioned anything about Mrs. Hoffman’s story, after all. They had seemed to be convinced the killer was an ex-boyfriend of Audra’s.
    For now, Rita would say nothing. But she would keep her eyes open. Wide open. Especially when Mrs. Hoffman came lurking around.

15
    â€œD arling!” David’s voice crackled over