Page 28 of The Other Lady Vanishes

“No point causing gossip,” he said.

She smiled at that. “In this town people have genuine celebrity scandals to entertain them. I doubt if anyone would bother to gossip about us, but I understand the concern. I’ll try to find a locksmith today and see about installing better locks.”

She opened the kitchen door for Jake. A thick morning fog was rolling in off the ocean. It would be gone by noon but for now it cloaked the world in a weightless mist.

Jake stepped outside, took in the scene, and looked satisfied. “No one will see me leaving your place, not in this fog.”

“Are you sure you won’t stay for breakfast?”

He stopped and looked at her. He smiled. “You and the fog just talked me into it.”

“I’ll get the eggs going.”

“I’ll come back inside in a few minutes,” he said. “I want to take a look around the outside of the laundry room window and see if I can find any signs of the intruder.”

She tightened her grip on the doorknob. “And if you don’t find any evidence? Will you conclude that I imagined the whole thing?”

He paused at the edge of the back porch. “Regardless of what I find or don’t find, I believe you had excellent reasons to conclude that someone broke into your house last night. I don’t think your imagination gotthe better of you. I don’t think you were suffering from bad nerves. Are we clear on that?”

She relaxed. “Yes. Thank you.”

She stepped back into the kitchen, closed the door, and crossed to the stove. She picked up the cast-iron pan and put it on a burner.

The telephone on the wall rang just as she started cracking eggs into a bowl. Startled, she dropped one of the eggs. It broke on the green tile countertop.

It’s just the telephone.Get hold of yourself, woman.

But she could not think of a single person who would call her at such an early hour.

Paranoia is a sign of mental instability.

She reminded herself that she had just spent a sleepless night after discovering evidence that someone had invaded her home. She had a right to be jumpy.

She wiped her hands on her apron and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she asked, trying not to reveal her anxiety.

There was a short, startled pause, as if the caller had not expected the phone to be answered.

“Miss Brockton? Is that you?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Thelma Leggett, Madam Zolanda’s assistant. I realize I probably woke you. Please forgive me but I am absolutely desperate.”

Thelma did, indeed, sound frantic.

“What’s wrong?” Adelaide said.

“It’s Madam Zolanda. She’s in a terrible state. I think she’s having a nervous breakdown. She won’t come out of her room. She’s begging for some of the special tea that you blended for her—Enlightenment—but we’re out. Refresh doesn’t open until nine. I don’t dare wait that long. In any event, I’m afraid to leave her alone. In her present mood she might do herself some harm.”

“If she’s in such a bad way, you should call the doctor.”

“No, Madam Zolanda would be furious if I did that. She’d likely fire me. If you wouldn’t mind bringing me a fresh batch of her special blend, I would be very grateful. I assure you, I’ll make it worth your while. We’re staying in the villa at the end of Ocean View Lane. Do you know it?”

“Yes, but I really think you should call the doctor.”

“I just can’t risk it,” Thelma whispered. “It would mean my job. I really do think Madam Zolanda will be fine once she’s had a chance to calm down. Your tea works wonders for her. Please say you’ll bring some to the villa right away.”