She was much more interested in current events.
Like how to find a way out of her brother’s house that didn’t exchange one dump for another, now that her odds of convincing Natalie to be her ticket to a cushier life were in the toilet.
Getting greedy had been a mistake. Sure, those old stamps were just sitting there gathering dust, of no benefit to anyone, but she should have focused first on wrangling an invitation to live here instead of letting the temptation to pick up what had seemed like easy money mess with her priorities.
She swiped at the film of dust on the antique hall table. Keeping this place clean was a constant battle, and the gravel drive didn’t help matters. Natalie ought to pave it and—
“...see you at dinner.” Cara Tucker opened the door to the study, aiming the remark over her shoulder.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
The two women emerged from the room.
Cara greeted her but didn’t linger. It was hard to tell from her expression if she’d shared the desk incident with Natalie.
As Cara disappeared toward the back of the house, Natalie smiled. “I appreciate your offer to pick up blackberries at the market for me, Lydia. They didn’t have any when I was there earlier in the week.”
“It was no problem, ma’am. I know how much you like them. I put them in your fridge.”
“Excellent.” She waited a few beats. “I believe I’ll have my lunch.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Several more seconds passed, but Natalie didn’t move. She just stood there, as if she was waiting for ... what? A confession?
It would be a long wait.
No one could pin anything on her, even if Natalie called the sheriff. Not after she’d arrived extra early today and cleaned in the study first. Including a major wipe down of the items in the bottom right-hand drawer of the desk.
There were no incriminating fingerprints to find on that stamp collection.
Putting back the stamp tucked in her pocket had been an option, of course. One she’d mulled over. Yet in the end she’d held on to it. If she was going to get fired, she needed the money it would provide for a deposit on an apartment somewhere.
“You know, I’m a great believer in second chances.” Natalie set her cane in front of her and rested both hands on top, her tone conversational. But as the silence between them stretched, there was a subtle shift in her posture. “I understand you were looking in the desk in the study yesterday, Lydia. Last night I discovered a stamp missing from my father’s collection. Do you know anything about that?”
Lydia wadded the dust rag in her fingers, wavering.
If she confessed and offered to return the stamp, would Natalie really give her another chance, as she’d implied?
But what if she didn’t? What if she called the sheriff instead and asked him to press charges?
It would be safer to play dumb. The sheriff wouldn’t find anything if he investigated. She’d covered her tracks, despite the circumstantial evidence that put her in the bull’s-eye. And if she admitted her guilt, Natalie would never trust her again. No matter what the woman said.
Second chances didn’t happen in real life.
“No, ma’am.”
Natalie let out a long, slow breath. “I think we both know that’s not true, Lydia. You’ve been a reliable worker, and I’m sorry to have to do this, but I can’t have people in my house who aren’t honest and who won’t own up to wrong behavior.I’ll send you a check for the work you’ve done, but I’ll have to ask you to leave. Now.”
Her throat pinched, and bitterness washed over her. The outcome was no surprise. She never got any breaks.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Ms. Boyer.”
“I am too, Lydia. And please let your brother know I won’t be needing his services, either.”
“I will.” But not until she lined up somewhere else to live. “I’ll get my things.”
She retreated to the kitchen, where she’d left her purse and sweater.
