The Maid's Secret by Jane Whitney-Clark

Author:Jane Whitney-Clark [Whitney-Clark, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Suspense, Cozy Mystery
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

It was the growling of her stomach that finally woke her up. According to the glowing numbers on her nightstand clock, it was now almost ten p.m. She had somehow managed to sleep both the afternoon and evening away. Tossing back the covers, Jameson sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes and longing for that beautiful Cobb salad she’d so foolishly abandoned on the Cherry Moon bar. But at least her headache was finally and completely gone.

Jameson staggered to the bathroom sink and splashed some icy water on her face, then groped around for a pair of cotton gym shorts and her over-sized Xavier U T-shirt. Silently, she blessed the heavens for her good sense in packing these top-of-the-line comfort clothes. Slipping on a run-down pair of purple flip-flops, she now felt perfectly decked out for a late-night raid on the Blue Chimneys pantry.

Jameson padded softly down the hall and sweeping staircase, hoping Jace and Noelle, and most definitely Claire, were all sound asleep. She wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat and she had her sights set on some serious bonding time with a thick ham sandwich. However, as she tiptoed through the darkened formal dining room and down the back hallway to the kitchen, her hopes were quickly dashed. A brilliant shaft of light poured into the hall and spread across the flagstone floor. “Please,” she whispered. “Just don’t let it be Claire.”

Cautiously rounding the kitchen doorway, Jameson let out a breath. At least it wasn’t Claire, but there at the willow-green country-French table, his butt firmly planted on a pricey cane-bottomed chair, sat Jace McCord. Stuffing the last of a high-piled sandwich into his mouth, he waved a friendly greeting and motioned her over to the table. “Plenty here for two,” he mumbled.

Jameson managed to grunt a half-hearted “Thanks” and grabbed a dish from the nearest cupboard. Holding it carefully in both hands, she inspected the bone-china plate. It was a pearly white disk with an edge of pansies and gold ribbons, and it was just way too pretty to eat off. In fact, this one plate alone might very well cost more than her monthly condo rent. With a silent warning to herself to handle with care, she took a seat in the chair opposite Jace.

While he remained totally absorbed in his chewing, Jameson examined the unbelievable spread glistening before her in the white kitchen light. Jace had done amazingly well for himself in arranging a fine array of delicacies from the Blue Chimneys larder: some fat slices of golden-skinned turkey; coarse-cut slabs of sticky, glazed ham (she offered up another prayer of thanks); a heaping bowl of redskin potato salad; and a crusty loaf of fresh rye bread beside a stack of yellow cheeses. And of course, it went without saying, a huge jar of Miracle Whip. As she greedily dug in, Jace pointed toward a rounded pan at the far end of the table, filled to bursting with a golden syrupy mixture and topped with a sugary lattice crust.

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