Beautiful Affliction(12)

"That's alright. I just wanted to take a look…sometimes seeing things with fresh eyes helps," Detective Donohue responds, looking around the room, then crouching at the bed. "So you just started yesterday?"

"Yes." Jaime is looking at me with a frown. I glance at him with an exasperated expression. He was always so overprotective.

"How have you been getting along?" Donohue asks, his eyes trained on the windowsill now. It occurs to me that looking at the room again might have been a ruse, and really they wanted to talk to me alone.

"Fine."

"What do you think of Mr. Redmond?"

"I don't really know him yet," I hedge.

"But your first impression," Donohue presses me, glancing up. For the first time I notice a sly intelligence behind his gruff demeanor.

"Well, I think he wears a different face in private than in public. Publicly, he's the life of the party, but privately, he's serious, driven. I think he expects a lot from people, and from himself."

"You learned all that in one day?" Jaime asks quietly.

"I…I have a chance to observe people more than you'd think. Nobody ever notices the maid." Detective Donohue smiles at me. "Why are you asking about him?"

"Did you know that as of a few weeks ago, he's under investigation by the SEC?" Donohue asks.

"No. I hadn't even heard his name until recently."

"Do you have access to his study, to his files, computer…?"

"I've been in his study. I don't know about the files or anything, though I'd assume they're locked. Is he a suspect?"

"Here's my card," Donohue says, avoiding my question. "Just in case you need to contact me. Though I'm sure you've got Sullivan's number already," he adds, referring to Jaime by his last name.

"You mind if I have a word alone?" Jaime asks, and Donohue glances between us.

"Sure," he finally says with a shrug, and walks down the hallway. Jaime waits until he hears him walking down the stairs, then turns to me.

"I don't like you working here. You should quit."

My jaw drops. "You don't exactly have a say in that, do you?"

"I heard you were working as a maid, but I didn't believe it."

"Well, here I am," I say with a shrug.

"You like this kind of work, waiting on these entitled assholes? Washing their dirty underwear?"

"'Entitled assholes'? I'd think a cop should be a little less prejudiced."

"You know what I mean. And stop dodging my question."

"It's good money, and it comes with a room. What more do I need?"

"You used to need a lot more."

"As this doesn't seem to be official police business, I think we're done here," I say firmly to him, and turn to the door. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but it's…misplaced. I can take care of myself. Besides, we're not together anymore. You don't get to weigh in on my life decisions," I add more softly. He flinches.

"I don't like this Redmond guy," he says, running his hand through his hair.

"He's my boss," I say simply. He studies my face for a moment.

"Just your boss."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shakes his head, brushing me off, then clears his throat. "I'm seeing this girl in Boston now."

"That's good, Jaime. I'm happy for you."

He nods, then crosses to the door. "I'll, uh, yeah, we'll probably be back around noon, depending on the autopsy results."

"OK, bye Jaime."

"Bye, Cora." He opens the door and disappears down the hall. I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to get my bearings. Even though I was the one who broke it off with Jaime, seeing him again brings back so much of our old life together. Everything I've tried to leave behind. I take a deep breath and stand up, moving to the door. I'm a maid now, no matter my past. I have work to do.





Chapter Seven





As much as I was looking forward to having the day off yesterday, I'm glad to be back to work. I got my things unpacked, went into town to explore, and then found myself sitting on my hands, my mind dangerously unoccupied. I prefer to keep busy.

Mondays are Ms. Mueller's day off, so I'm in charge of cooking for Mr. Redmond and his mother, though tonight Aaron is driving her to dinner at a friend's. He told me confidentially that she is not the best driver, and that Mr. Redmond prefers him to take her when he can. As soon as he brings Mr. Redmond home, he swings into the kitchen.

"Do you want some food to take with you?" I ask him.

"No, thanks. Her friend's house is near my favorite bar in town, so I'm going to eat there," he replies as he heads back to the guest house to find Mrs. Redmond.