Easter Sunday at the mansion was an affair of sickening opulence. The scent of roasted lamb and expensive lilies filled the air while the elite of the Northeast clinked crystal flutes. Margaret stood at the head of the dining table wearing a vintage designer suit and a necklace of South Sea pearls. Richard sat to her right looking smug as he discussed the unfortunate departure of his wife. “It is for the best really,” Margaret told a circle of admiring socialites. “Rose simply did not have the constitutional strength for a family of our stature.” “She has gone back to her mother because some people are just destined for a life of mediocrity,” she added with a laugh. Richard chuckled while sipping an expensive bottle of wine. “I told the help to burn that rug because I could not stand the sight of the stain.” “It was a cheap thrill while it lasted, but I am looking forward to a wife who actually knows her place,” he boasted. Suddenly, the massive crystal chandelier above the table flickered and then died. The room plunged into a thick and suffocating darkness. Gasps of surprise rippled through the guests until a loud crash echoed through the hall. The front
doors did not just open because they were blown off their hinges by a flash bang. The windows shattered inward as tactical teams rappelled from the roof. High intensity spotlights cut through the darkness to blind the guests. “Federal agents, nobody move and keep your hands on the table!” The room exploded into chaos. Men in black tactical gear swarmed the dining hall. Richard tried to bolt toward the kitchen, but he was tackled into the buffet table with his face smashed into a platter of deviled eggs. I walked into the room wearing a sharp black tactical suit with the
rank of chief investigator stitched in gold across the back. My hair was pulled back tight and my eyes were like flint. I walked straight to the head of the table where Margaret was hyperventilating while clutching her pearls. “Evelyn?” she gasped while trembling. “What is this theater and get
these people out of my house!” I reached out to pick up her glass of wine and tilted it. The red liquid spilled out to soak into the white lace tablecloth slowly and deliberately.
“Messy, is it not Margaret?” I said with a voice that echoed in the now silent room. “It is a bit like the blood on the station floor.”
“You are just a baker,” Richard yelled from the floor with his hands being wrenched behind his back into zip ties. “You are a total nobody!”
I walked over to him and knelt down. I leaned in close so he could see the total lack of mercy in my pupils.
“I am the woman who sent your father to his grave,” I whispered. “I am the woman who knows every cent you have stolen since you were eighteen.”
“And most importantly Richard, I am the mother of the woman you tried to kill,” I reminded him.
I stood up and turned to the lead agent. “Check the safe behind the library’s false wall because the code is the date of his father’s conviction.”
“How do you know that?” Margaret shrieked.
I looked at her with a cold thin smile. “I have been cleaning your house for two years Margaret and you called me invisible and a muddled old woman.”
“Thank you for that, because it made my job much easier,” I said.
As they dragged Richard out, he screamed about his lawyers. I watched him go then looked at Margaret.
“The government is seizing this house as an instrument of criminal enterprise,” I informed her. “That includes the rugs, which we will use as evidence of domestic battery.”
“I hope the dry cleaning bill was worth it,” I said.
Six months later the family empire was gone and the headlines had been relentless. Richard was facing twenty five years to life for a cocktail of racketeering and attempted murder.
Margaret was found complicit in the financial fraud and was serving a five year stint in a federal prison. I sat on the porch of a small sun drenched cottage on the coast of Maine.
There was no marble here, just weathered wood and the smell of the salt sea. Rose came out of the house with her belly now a prominent and beautiful curve.
She looked healthy and she looked free. She sat down in the rocker next to me and handed me a cup of tea.
“Mom,” she asked while looking out at the waves. “Did you ever actually like baking those cookies?”
I chuckled while taking a sip. “I hated the kitchen Rose, but I only did it because it was the best way to keep people from looking at me too closely.”
“People see what they expect to see,” I said. “They expected a grandmother, but they did not expect a viper.”
Rose smiled and rested her head on my shoulder. “I am glad you are just my mom now.”
“I always was,” I said. “The rest was just taking out the trash.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket from a private number. I hesitated then answered.
“Vance,” I said.
“Evelyn,” the voice on the other end sounded urgent. “It is the capital office and we have flagged a series of transactions coming out of the governor’s charity fund.”
“It looks like the same pattern the previous targets used,” the caller explained. “And the governor just made a very public scene insulting a cleaning lady at the capital building.”
I looked at Rose and I looked at the peaceful ocean. Then I looked at my cardigan hanging on the back of the chair.
“Give me ten minutes and send me the file,” I said.
I hung up and stood while stretching my aching joints. The retired life would have to wait because there was a fresh scent of garbage in the air.
“Rose, I have to run an errand,” I said while kissing her forehead.
“A baking errand?” she asked with a wink.
“Exactly,” I replied while grabbing my keys. “Someone else thinks they are invisible, and it is time I showed them exactly how much I can see.”
THE END.
