The Perfect Ruin - Page 71

No. It had become much, much deeper than that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I remember arriving at the mansion on April 13, and Lola wasn’t there. Neither was Dr. Maxwell. The house was oddly quiet, but I did my duties, made my calls, and cleaned whatever needed cleaning.

Something was off about that day. Rain isn’t unusual in Florida, especially during spring, but it was really pouring down outside, the windows getting slapped with water and wind.

Lola normally didn’t leave until nine in the morning or after if she had somewhere to be. She’d have a list on the fridge of what she wanted for lunch or dinner, along with instructions if she had guests coming over, but not that day.

I was worried, but I didn’t want to be annoying by calling or checking in if she was busy. For all I knew, she’d traveled somewhere and forgotten to tell me . . . but she never forgot to tell me things like that. She loved to brag about her trips to different cities or countries.

Day transitioned to night, and finally Lola came home. The rain had settled and become a light drizzle. I didn’t notice her arrival at first. I’d just finished eating a quick dinner when she trudged past the kitchen and I caught her thin silhouette. It was nearing ten at night. I was late to get to Dion and had sent him a text to let him know, but I didn’t want to leave until I knew what was going on, or if she’d have any requests.

“Mrs. Maxwell?” I called, shooting off my stool and going after her. She was halfway up the stairs at that point. “Mrs. Maxwell?” I called again. “Is everything okay? I didn’t know what you wanted for dinner, so I told Tonia to make roasted veggies and a soup.”

Lola stopped walking up the stairs but didn’t turn to look at me. Something was wrong. She seemed agitated. Was she about to fire me? Maybe she didn’t like that I was leaving early most nights anymore.

Lola finally looked over her shoulder, but not right at me. Something was definitely wrong, though. Her face was pale, her lips dry, and her hair a bit disheveled. I noticed stains of blood on her blouse and gasped.

“Oh my God, Lola. What happened?” I took a step up.

“No, Georgia. Don’t.” She dropped her head, her hair curtaining around her face. I stopped moving. “Take the rest of the night off,” she ordered.

“But, what about your dinner—”

“For fuck’s sake, Georgia! Just take the fucking night off! Go to your stupid husband and stop bothering me!”

Her tone had caught me completely off guard, but what caught me off guard the most was the way she stormed up the stairs and slammed a door behind her. I stepped down, utterly confused, but I wasn’t going to ignore her orders. It was clear she wanted to be alone, so I grabbed my things and left . . . but for the record, my husband wasn’t stupid. I didn’t know what her problem was, but that was just rude.

As I was leaving, Corey was climbing out of his car. “Hey, Georgia,” he greeted me as I reached the SUV. “Taking off?”

“Yes. Mrs. Maxwell told me I could go. I’m sorry if you wanted dinner,” I murmured.

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll find something.” He seemed too chipper. Compared to Lola’s attitude, I could only assume he had no idea what was going on with her.

“Have you talked to Mrs. Maxwell at all today?” I asked, glancing at the front door of the mansion and then focusing on him.

“No, I haven’t. I called her after a surgery, but figured she was busy when she didn’t answer.”

“Oh.” He was going to be in for a rude awakening. “Well, good night, Dr. Maxwell.”

“Drive safe, Georgia.”

I climbed behind the wheel of the SUV, watching Dr. Maxwell enter the house. When the door closed behind him, I couldn’t help feeling something was very, very wrong.

I tossed and turned the whole night and got out of bed around four the following morning to get ready for work. I couldn’t get that bloodstain on Lola’s shirt out of my mind. Did someone hurt her? What the hell happened?

Dion wasn’t pleased with me leaving so early, and he didn’t understand my stance. I hadn’t told him about the blood I saw on Lola’s shirt, or how she’d yelled at me. I didn’t want him to have any more reason to feel like I needed to break my contract and quit.

I drove to Biscayne Bay and parked in the roundabout driveway around six that morning. Both Corey and Lola’s cars were there. It was strange for Corey to still be around. He normally was leaving or long gone by the time I arrived. He went to work early and came home late most nights. Cosmetic surgery wasn’t an easy job.

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