pleasant. Maria locked the door behind her.
She set her purse down and went straight to the master suite. Radio off. Bathroom empty. No one in sight. Maria exhaled for the first time since walking in.
The room looked exactly the way she’d left it the last time she was here. The bed was made and the room straightened. Legal books stacked neatly on the nightstand. Mr. Crater’s robe hung on a hook on the bathroom door. The only difference was the thin film of dust that lay across the furniture. It was undisturbed. Maria ran her finger over the bureau and looked at the mark of clean wood left behind. What had Jude hidden in there, she wondered. Maria lifted the red-and-gold brocadebureau scarf. The key stuck out of the lock, right where he had left it. An invitation.
Curiosity roared through her mind, and Maria could not take her eyes off that small gold key. She reached a hand out and let it hover in the air long enough for her to take a breath and decide. One small turn. She couldn’t help it. The lock clicked and she slid the drawer open. Four manila envelopes piled on top of each other, with Mrs. Crater’s initials written in jerky letters. Maria pulled out the first envelope and balanced its weight in her hand.
Red string was wrapped around two buttons, sealing the envelope. Maria sat on the edge of the Craters’ bed as she slowly unwound it, telling herself all the while to put the envelope back, to leave it alone. Even as her mind objected to the work of her hands, she pulled the envelope open. What could be so important that her husband was willing to violate his own conscience? She tipped the answer into her lap. Maria regretted her decision as soon as she saw the pile of money. Thousands of dollars were stacked and bound with string. She gasped and lifted one from her lap, fanning through the bills with her thumb.
Maria jumped when someone pounded on the front door. For one terrible moment, she thought her employers had returned and that she would be discovered sifting through their belongings. She stuffed the money back in the envelope and then locked it in the drawer.
Her palms were slick with perspiration and her pulse raced as she went to the door and peered through the peephole. The man on the other side looked as though he stood in front of a fun-house mirror: neck and legs stretched to a comical length, eyes abnormally large. She hesitated, uncertain. He didn’t appear threatening. Maria unlocked the door as he lifted his fist to knock again. She cracked it open but left the chain in place. She waited for him to speak.
“I’m looking for Joseph Crater.” The man was young and clean-shaven with a wide grin. Unusually tall. He seemed to quiver with energy, as though he might come bounding through the door at any second.
She cleared her throat. “He’s not here.”
“Do you know where I can find him?”
Maria wasn’t in the habit of telling strangers the location of her employer. But this was general enough. “In Maine. Vacaciones .”
He pulled a small notebook from a pocket inside his suit coat and scratched a few indecipherable lines. “When do you expect him back?”
“Who are you?” Maria said, suddenly cautious.
“George Hall, with the New York World .” There was barely enough room for him to stick his hand through the crack in the door.
She did not take it. “What do you want?”
“I’m usually the one who asks the questions. This is a nice change of pace. Mind if I come in?”
“Yes.”
“I promise I’ll only stay a minute. Have a look around.” Maria went to close the door, but he stepped back, palms up. “Hey, I’m sorry. Can’t blame me for trying.”
“I think you need to leave.”
“No one has seen your boss in weeks,” George said.
Her hand grasped the knob tighter. “He’s in Maine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Maybe . “We spoke on the fourth. He said he was going back there.” Fears rushed in on Maria. Jude. The cash in that envelope.
She set her purse down and went straight to the master suite. Radio off. Bathroom empty. No one in sight. Maria exhaled for the first time since walking in.
The room looked exactly the way she’d left it the last time she was here. The bed was made and the room straightened. Legal books stacked neatly on the nightstand. Mr. Crater’s robe hung on a hook on the bathroom door. The only difference was the thin film of dust that lay across the furniture. It was undisturbed. Maria ran her finger over the bureau and looked at the mark of clean wood left behind. What had Jude hidden in there, she wondered. Maria lifted the red-and-gold brocadebureau scarf. The key stuck out of the lock, right where he had left it. An invitation.
Curiosity roared through her mind, and Maria could not take her eyes off that small gold key. She reached a hand out and let it hover in the air long enough for her to take a breath and decide. One small turn. She couldn’t help it. The lock clicked and she slid the drawer open. Four manila envelopes piled on top of each other, with Mrs. Crater’s initials written in jerky letters. Maria pulled out the first envelope and balanced its weight in her hand.
Red string was wrapped around two buttons, sealing the envelope. Maria sat on the edge of the Craters’ bed as she slowly unwound it, telling herself all the while to put the envelope back, to leave it alone. Even as her mind objected to the work of her hands, she pulled the envelope open. What could be so important that her husband was willing to violate his own conscience? She tipped the answer into her lap. Maria regretted her decision as soon as she saw the pile of money. Thousands of dollars were stacked and bound with string. She gasped and lifted one from her lap, fanning through the bills with her thumb.
Maria jumped when someone pounded on the front door. For one terrible moment, she thought her employers had returned and that she would be discovered sifting through their belongings. She stuffed the money back in the envelope and then locked it in the drawer.
Her palms were slick with perspiration and her pulse raced as she went to the door and peered through the peephole. The man on the other side looked as though he stood in front of a fun-house mirror: neck and legs stretched to a comical length, eyes abnormally large. She hesitated, uncertain. He didn’t appear threatening. Maria unlocked the door as he lifted his fist to knock again. She cracked it open but left the chain in place. She waited for him to speak.
“I’m looking for Joseph Crater.” The man was young and clean-shaven with a wide grin. Unusually tall. He seemed to quiver with energy, as though he might come bounding through the door at any second.
She cleared her throat. “He’s not here.”
“Do you know where I can find him?”
Maria wasn’t in the habit of telling strangers the location of her employer. But this was general enough. “In Maine. Vacaciones .”
He pulled a small notebook from a pocket inside his suit coat and scratched a few indecipherable lines. “When do you expect him back?”
“Who are you?” Maria said, suddenly cautious.
“George Hall, with the New York World .” There was barely enough room for him to stick his hand through the crack in the door.
She did not take it. “What do you want?”
“I’m usually the one who asks the questions. This is a nice change of pace. Mind if I come in?”
“Yes.”
“I promise I’ll only stay a minute. Have a look around.” Maria went to close the door, but he stepped back, palms up. “Hey, I’m sorry. Can’t blame me for trying.”
“I think you need to leave.”
“No one has seen your boss in weeks,” George said.
Her hand grasped the knob tighter. “He’s in Maine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Maybe . “We spoke on the fourth. He said he was going back there.” Fears rushed in on Maria. Jude. The cash in that envelope.
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