The Maid's Diary(79)
The camera flashes to a pale-faced male with thinning brown hair.
“Next door neighbor Horton Brown says it was his elderly mother who placed the initial 911 call.”
The camera zooms in on Horton. He stands in the street outside the Glass House. Crime scene tape flaps behind him. Rain falls steadily.
“Did you see the mystery couple who arrived in the Audi?” the reporter asks Horton before sticking the mike in front of his mouth.
“My mother saw them both. My mom is confined to her upstairs bedroom. She’s in palliative care. But she got a good look from her window up there.” He points. The camera pans to the brick house, then back to Horton. “She says the pregnant woman is the same woman who also visited the Glass House a week ago. The woman had lunch with Vanessa North by the pool.”
“But we understand Vanessa North is presently in Singapore and has been for several months,” the reporter says.
“Well, I only saw the back of her, and it looked like Vanessa. The other woman was sitting facing our house, so my mother got a good look at her. She arrived in a small white BMW that day.”
Daisy’s hand covers her mouth. She can’t seem to blink.
“Where is Jon?”
Daisy jumps, whips her head around. Her mother is standing there. She saw the whole thing?
“Where’s Jon—did Jon do this?” Her mother looks weird. Intense.
Daisy can’t seem to speak. Fear has claws in her throat.
Her mother enters the living room, pulls up a chair. She sits, leans forward, takes Daisy’s hands in hers.
“Daisy, honey, you need to talk. You need to tell me what happened. Was that man talking about you and Jon? That’s the house of your friend, isn’t it? You told me she lived in the Glass House. Is that where you went for dinner? What happened?”
Tears fill Daisy’s eyes. “I didn’t do anything. We didn’t do—” Her voice stalls as a notion strikes her. She gathers herself quickly. “Jon and I arrived at the house. I got cramps at the door. We left right away.”
“Was the missing maid there? Did you see the maid? What happened to her?”
“I didn’t see her.”
“And what do they mean about your friend, Vanessa, being out of the country? If she invited you for dinner—”
“Daisy!” Her father storms in through the french doors. “There are police cars coming up our drive.”
As he speaks, red and blue lights pulse into the living room. Daisy pushes herself clumsily up from the chair and hurries to the window.
Three black-and-white West Vancouver PD vehicles with flashing bar lights come up the curved Wentworth driveway. Two pull in beside her BMW. One parks at a sharp angle behind Daisy’s car, blocking her exit.
Her mind shoots back to that night at the Glass House.
“I need a lawyer,” she says quietly to her mom. “I need a really good lawyer. Will you find me one?”
DAISY
October 31, 2019. Thursday.
Six hours and six minutes before the murder.
Daisy is dressed and made up for dinner when Jon carries his briefcase in through the door.
Waddling up to him, she smiles, goes up on her toes, and kisses him. “I put some clothes out on the bed for you.” She wants him to look his best. Daisy has pride—she needs to impress Vanessa and Haruto.
“I don’t know that I’m up for this, Daize.”
She takes a good look at her husband and realizes he looks terrible. “Oh, Jon, you look ill. What happened? Do you want me to take you back to the hospital?”
“No, I’m fine. Just beat.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. It sticks up, wet from the rain.
She becomes aware that his shirt is damp, too, and he smells of alcohol. Worry worms into Daisy. “What’s going on?”
“Just a . . . rough day. Those investors pulled out.”
“Was that what your big meeting was about this morning?”
“Yeah.” He turns away from her, opens the hall closet. He shrugs out of his damp jacket, drapes it over a coat hanger.
“You get caught in the rain?”
“Obviously.”
“Jon?”
He faces her.
She regards him. “Did you hear something bad about the new job? Is this to do with that Ahmed Waheed guy?”
“No, Daisy. I said it was just a rough day.”
She stares at her husband’s back as he turns away from her. Something awful has happened. He’s lying to her.
“Are you sure going out to dinner is—”
“It’s fine,” he snaps. “I said I’ll be fine.”
He goes up the stairs to change. And Daisy knows—she just knows. Nothing is fine.
When Jon comes back downstairs, he’s showered and dressed, and looks presentable. She forces a smile, kisses him on the cheek, and tells him he looks handsome.
“I called ahead to order a pie and flowers to take to the Norths,” she says. “We can pick them up along the way. Is that okay?”
He nods and finds his car keys.
Rain falls steadily as they leave Rose Cottage. Their neighborhood streets are cluttered with little ghosts and goblins carrying jack-o’-lanterns, treat bags, and flashlights. Carved pumpkins flicker and glow in windows. As Jon drives, Daisy keeps glancing at him. He’s distant, definitely preoccupied.