Page 37 of Liar Byrd
“It’s okay.” I turn to Nance to see if she needs help. Anything to avoid the hungry way this man is looking at me.
“You met them yet?” he calls out before I follow Nance to the pot she has simmering on the stove.
“Um…”
He’s still staring at me. He hasn’t stopped since I entered the kitchen, and for the first time since I escaped from the compound, I start wishing I was back in clothes that covered me from my wrists to my ankles.
“The murderers,” he says with a grin.
On my way to help Nance, I freeze. “Thewhat?”
Nance, busy ladling oatmeal from a large pot into four bowls, heaves out a sigh. “No one under this roof is a murderer.”
“That’s not what the sheriff thinks, and there’s a reason no one works here for long,” Kit says, still looking at me.
“They’ll fire you if they hear you say that," Lydia says, turning a page of her magazine without looking up.
He snorts. “As if. They need me. Have you tried the apple pie yet?”
Distracted by this talk of a killer and whether I need to leave, I shake my head.
“The diner in town makes the best one. I can take you one day,” Kit offers.
I have no interest in men, none in dates even if it leads to the best apple pie I ever tasted in my life, and absolutely nothing I would ever want from him.
Smiling at me, he says, “Just think about it, okay? I’ll take you out and show you the sights.”
Lydia snorts at ‘sights’, which draws his gaze away from me, if only so he can complain to her. For that, I’m thankful. Taking advantage of the distraction, I go over to Nance to help her movethe bowls and the toppings for the oatmeal to the dining table so we can start breakfast. But the wordmurderrepeats in my mind.
Who died?
Who did the killing?
And most of all, why?
Chapter 14
Byrdie
The earphones Nance let me borrow were a mistake.
One of the maids who didn’t last a week left her MP3 player and earphones behind after quitting. Nance found them and tried to return them, but couldn’t as the maid didn’t leave a forwarding address. She suggested I use them to listen to music while working, so I wouldn’t have to endure silence all day.
I nearly told her the silence was bliss. After the compound, being away from Jeremiah is heaven. But sometimes my mind wanders back to Jeremiah, and the loud rock music, the type Jeremiah would never have allowed, helps to ground me in the present.
I have my MP3 player tucked in my apron pocket, with rock blasting in my ears. My arms are full of a basket of cleaning supplies as I push open the door with my back, then turn around.
I’ve been here for five days.
I’ve cleaned the guest rooms on the third and first floors, avoiding the personal rooms on the second floor. When Nance asked if I wouldn’t mind cleaning the office, I pounced on it.
That was another mistake.
I haven’t seen any of the men who live here even once, not even Nash or Mr. Gabriel, as Nance calls him. Usually, I hide in my room after finishing my cleaning for the day. It's not just to avoid them, but also the gardener, who keeps trying to catch my eye when we eat in the kitchen.
I thought I would continue not to see them.
Stupid, really. The Gabriel Mansion is large, but it’s not big enough to avoid everyone who lives under its roof.
