“Hey,” Tiff calls without turning away from the sink where she’s hand-washing cutlery. “I’m Edgar’s wife. You met him last night.”
“I did?” When Meri nods at my board, I start roughly chopping the lettuce as requested. “Is he the guy who was just the tiniest bit smaller than Yuri.”
“That’s the one.”
“And are you someone’s wife, Meri?”
“No. I’m here of my own free will.” She smiles as Tiff cackles with laughter. “But I am Baxter’s sister.”
“His sister?” I stare at her in astonishment. She looks nothing like him.Aggressivelyunlike him.
“What? Isn’t he allowed a family?”
“No. I—I just…” I frown and get more closely involved with the lettuce. “Didn’t know he had one. Apart from Sophia. He mentioned his mother was dead.”
“Both his parents are. We’re adoptive siblings,” she says. “So, we look nothing alike and have completely different names and parents. But other than that…?” She shrugs.
“Why are there so many people here?” I ask since Meri suggested it’s unusual.
“Because of Sophia,” she says, and I think, duh. “We’ll be bursting at the seams for another few days, then everything will go back to normal.”
“Probably quicker,” Tiff adds. “Now they know who’s responsible.”
Meri purses her lips. “Except we still don’t know why.”
Tiff shakes her head. “Like it matters.”
“It does,” Meri insists. “When it’s internal, it always matters.”
“So, she was taken by someone inside the house,” I say, nodding. “I thought so.”
“What?”
“Why?”
“What d’you know?”
“Who?”
The barrage of questions stops me in my tracks, and I stare at the enquiring faces with more caution. “Sorry, I don’t… I thought you meant…”
“Inside the syndicate not inside the house. I was talking about your boss, Sergio. Gah, you had me going there.” Meri presses a hand to her chest and gives a shaky laugh. “Can you imagine?”
Tiff’s glance is more concerned, and she turns to Nora. “Have you seen Emmaline today?”
“I haven’t had time to leave the kitchen,” the woman answers quickly. “Ask Edgar if you’re worried.”
“Who’s Emmaline?” I ask, reading their concerned faces.
It’s Tiff who answers, “Sophia’s nanny.”
“If she’s her nanny, won’t she be in her room?”
“Probably,” Nora says. “If you’re finished, can you toss the lettuce with some dressing?”
I follow her instructions, staying back as she leaves the room carrying three bowls stacked with food, Tiff and Meri hot on her heels. The other women chat amongst themselves but soon gather up the remaining dishes to take into the dining room.
I’m still standing alone when Nora returns. “Hurry,” she says. “Otherwise, you’ll miss the best bits.”
