Page 144 of The Housekeeper

“Plus, there was this vagueness in his eyes I found more than a little troubling. Just not the man I’m used to dealing with. Albeit, he’ll be eighty in another week…”

Eighty,I repeated silently. Was it possible?

“At any rate, I advised him to think things over again before making such drastic changes, and I could tell that that advice didn’t sit well with the new Mrs. Dundas.”

I said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“And then yesterday I received a letter from your father,” the lawyer continued, “informing me that my services were no longer required, and asking me to forward his files to another firm. It’s not a very reputable firm, to say the least—they’re known for taking shortcuts and being somewhat less than ethical—and in light of the things you told me, plus my own recent observations and misgivings, I felt it was my duty to inform you of these developments.”

“Did you forward the files?”

“I had no choice.”

“DoI?”

“You could go to the police, I suppose. Not that they’ll be able to do anything. But at least you’ll get your concerns on the record. Just in case…”

He left the sentence dangling, but we both understood what came next.

In case something should happen to your father.

“I’ll think about it,” I told the lawyer, even though I knew that going to the police was out of the question. If they launched any kind of investigation, Elyse would surely find out, and my affair with her son would be revealed. I couldn’t take that chance.

“Do you think he’s in danger?” I asked.

“Of being taken to the cleaners, definitely. Of anything more than that, I certainly hope not. At any rate, I think I’ve said quite enough. Remember,” he added before hanging up. “We never had this conversation.”

—

The phone rang at midnight. I groped for it in the dark.

“What the hell?” Harrison mumbled beside me.

“Hello?”

“Tracy?” the voice said.

“Dad?” I asked.

“Tracy,” he said again.

“No, Dad. It’s Jodi,” I said, too tired to be offended. “What’s wrong?”

“Jodi?”

“Yes, Dad. It’s Jodi. What’s happening?”

“What’s going on?” Harrison muttered beside me.

“What do you want?” my father asked.

“Dad,youcalledme.”

“I calledyou?”

“Well, you thought you were calling Tracy.”

“I did?”