the remainder of the day, as Charlotte cleaned, Bitsy followed her around, chattering about her upcoming trip and all of the things that she hoped to see and do. Charlotte’s only reprieve was when the phone rang and when Bitsy’s soap operas came on.
By the time Charlotte was ready to pack up and leave that afternoon, she could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.
“Now you won’t forget to check on my house for me, will you?” Bitsy asked her for what Charlotte figured was the umpteenth time.
“No, ma’am,” Charlotte reassured her as she knelt down to rearrange her cleaning supplies in the supply carrier.
“You do still have that key I gave you and the security code, don’t you?”
Charlotte nodded. “And I have Bradley’s phone number and his cell phone number on my notepad,” she added, anticipating Bitsy’s next question. Charlotte stood. “By the way, I want to thank you for referring me to Emily Rossi and for the kind things you said about me to her.”
Bitsy waved a dismissing hand. “No problem. Everything I said is true.” Suddenly her face collapsed into a frown and she slowly shook her head. “That Emily is such a nice young woman,” she said. “And I’m glad that you agreed to work for her. She hasn’t had an easy life, you know. Her parents died when she was young, and she was raised by her grandmother. Then, when Emily was a senior in high school, poor Thelma—Thelma was her grandmother—anyway, Thelma passed away, God rest her soul, and Emily came to stay with me. It was the least I could do what with Thelma and me being best friends and neighbors for all those years. Why, even after Emily graduated and went off to college, she still came back and stayed with me during holidays and the summers.”
A sad little smile pulled at Bitsy’s lips. “Why, she’s been like a daughter to me—at least she used to be. Of course I don’t see her near as often as I used to, not since she married Robert.”
Charlotte suddenly went stone still. Then she swallowed hard and a feeling of foreboding came over her. “Robert? Emily’s husband’s name is Robert?” she asked Bitsy. “The Robert Rossi?”
Bitsy nodded, and a sudden chill settled in Charlotte’s stomach.
Chapter
2
“Now, Charlotte, just get that look off your face. You shouldn’t believe everything that you hear about the man. I know what people say about Robert,” Bitsy continued, “about him being a Mafia don and all and about him being so much older than Emily. Of course he is almost fifteen years older, but so what? My late husband, rest his soul, was ten years older than me.”
Bitsy waved her hand. “And that other business—you know—that gossip about Robert’s first wife and children disappearing.”
Though Charlotte knew she would regret asking, the words just popped out. “‘Disappearing’? I don’t remember anything about that.”
Bitsy sniffed as if it were no concern at all. “Well, there’s two versions. Some say she ran around on Robert, got pregnant by her lover, then took the two kids and ran away to South America with him. Of course others say that Robert had her and the baby murdered and stashed his two children away in a boarding school. But that’s all just a bunch of mean-spirited gossip—a bunch of hooey, if you ask me. Besides which, Emily is a sweet, kindhearted person, and she wouldn’t have married Robert if she thought for one moment that he’d done half of what he’s been accused of doing.”
Charlotte shuddered. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t made the connection when she’d first talked to Emily, couldn’t believe that she’d actually accepted a job working for the Mafia. It was well-known that Robert Rossi was one of the wealthiest, most ruthless mafiosi in the country.
And what if Bitsy was wrong? What if the rumors were true and he had murdered his first wife? After all, he had been the primary suspect in the murder of Roberto Rossi, his own father, and that wasn’t just gossip. In fact, it had been all over the television news and in the newspapers for weeks. Even the national media had picked it up. Of course, in the end, the courts had been unable to prove Robert’s guilt and he’d been acquitted.
Charlotte shuddered again. Emily might be sweet and kind, but according to everything she’d ever heard about Robert, he was anything but. Regardless of Bitsy’s rose-colored opinion of Emily, Charlotte figured that either Emily was blind, deaf, and dumb, or she just flat-out didn’t have good sense for marrying Robert Rossi in the first place. Charlotte also figured that she’d just made a huge mistake agreeing to work for Emily.
“Besides,” Bitsy went on, “nothing was ever proven about his father’s murder. As for his wife and children, you and I both know that anything could have happened. Just because they disappeared doesn’t mean he had them killed.”
A shiver ran up Charlotte’s spine. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.
“But I guess I should warn you of one thing,” Bitsy said.
What now? Charlotte wondered.
“Because of the ugly rumors connected with the family, there will probably be bodyguards all over the place. Don’t be surprised if you get frisked before you’re allowed inside the house. Humph!” Bitsy made a face. “Why, last time I visited Emily, they even frisked me.” She suddenly chuckled. “Can you imagine anyone thinking that I could be some kind of hit woman?”
Only if your mouth counts as a lethal weapon.
Charlotte winced and was immediately sorry for the unkind thought. Bitsy was a terrible gossip but she was also a lonely old lady who had nothing better to do with her time.
“Thanks for the warning,” Charlotte said with a forced smile. Since she figured she’d had enough gossip and enough of Bitsy for one day, she picked up her supply carrier and vacuum cleaner, then set out with purposeful steps toward the front door. “Have a good time in California,” Charlotte called out over her shoulder as she hurried out. Despite Bitsy’s flattering recommendation, Charlotte suddenly wished that the old lady had kept her mouth shut and never mentioned her to Emily Rossi.
Once she got home, Charlotte decided to go ahead and try to set up interview appointments for late Saturday afternoon with the three people that she had chosen as a result of her newspaper ad. Now, more than ever, she needed to hire replacements for Cheré and Nadia.
For the rest of the afternoon though, and during the following day, she tried her best to come up with an excuse that sounded good enough to get her out of the commitment that she’d made to work for the Rossis.
As Charlotte resignedly climbed into her van on Thursday morning, she murmured, “So be it.” Other than outright lying, there was no good reason not to keep her commitment. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to tick off the Mafia, and she would only be working for the Rossis for four days. Surely nothing horrible could happen in four short days?
Thursday-morning traffic was light, and in no time she was searching for the address that Emily Rossi had given her. When Charlotte spotted the house, she smiled and parked the van alongside the curb. She’d driven past the enormous Italianate mansion numerous times and had often wondered who owned it and what it looked like inside. With its four imposing columns and the way the double verandas curved at the ends, the facade reminded her of vanilla ice cream and a wedding cake combined.
