Searching for Irene Read online

  Muttering to himself, Tyler said, “I wondered if he’d be in time to catch his ride to school.” Then he told Anna, “I apologize for my son.”

  Mrs. Calder jumped in. “Ever since his mother died, Evan’s had a hard time meeting new people—women in particular.”

  “Mrs. Calder is Evan’s champion,” Tyler said with a faint smile. “She’s been with us forever, and we look on her as a member of the family.”

  The housekeeper went to the stairs. “Let me show you to your room.”

  Anna picked up her bags—one in each hand, but Tyler wrested them from her. “I’ll take those.” There was no graciousness in his voice—only impatience, as if she were imposing on him. Mrs. Calder went up the wide staircase followed by Tyler, who carried the bags as though they were full of goose feathers. Dark-red carpeting muffled their footsteps as Anna trailed behind, running her hand along the polished oak banisters.

  At the landing, Mrs. Calder turned right and, shortly down the hallway, opened a door. Tyler tossed the bags on the bed, which was spread with a green quilt with stars stitched in yellow, orange, and white. The room was small but pleasant and country-like in its atmosphere.

  Going to the window, Anna was pleased to see a colorful garden dotted with heavy-headed peonies and stately yellow irises. Purple phlox flowed over artistically arranged rocks.

  “What part of the country are you from?” Mrs. Calder asked.

  “I was born in Vermont,” Anna replied unthinkingly then could have bitten her tongue. But if that meant anything to Tyler or Mrs. Calder, neither showed it. “My family moved to Lynchburg when I was young.”

  “Are they still there?” Mrs. Calder wanted to know.

  “My mother is. I, uh, also have a sister. And a brother who lives in Ohio.” Anna moistened her dry lips. To divert any further questions, she asked, “Who else lives here? I’ve already met Mr. Kent.”

  “There’s Grace—Kent’s wife,” Tyler answered. “She’s a quiet, gentle soul. Mrs. Calder has a room here, and so does Verla, who helps with the cooking and cleaning. Pearl is the cook, but she lives with her husband nearby.”

  Anna nodded. “I’m sorry your father isn’t feeling well, but would it be possible to look over some of his files a little later? Just to get familiar with things.”

  Tyler gave a short laugh. “Believe me, my father will not welcome you tampering with his books and papers when he’s not there.”

  “I’ll put everything back in place, I promise.”

  Tyler considered then relented. “I suppose that will be all right.”

  After he left, Mrs. Calder straightened a lopsided doily on top of a dresser. Then she turned toward Anna. Her face, already stern, turned positively grim as she frowned. “I hope you don’t mind me being frank, but I can’t think why Acer didn’t send a man to advise Mr. Richardson. If you’ll forgive me saying so, it isn’t really a woman’s place.”

  So the older woman was no suffragette. “Wasn’t the previous secretary a woman?”

  “And we had all kinds of problems with that one.”

  It came as a shock that the housekeeper had apparently decided to dislike her on sight. As for believing a man could do a better job—there were many who still held that opinion—despite the advances women had made since the Great War. In the past, Anna had tried to explain to such people that women were effective, capable workers, but she had butted her head against the brick wall of closed minds too many times to want to engage now, when she wanted to make a good impression. Besides, most people held on to their opinions even when faced with clear evidence to the contrary.

  Instead, Anna looked around the room, which was furnished in maple and chintz. “Was this the previous secretary’s room?”

  “Her room is the next one down. Irene left a lot behind when she took off the way she did. I imagine she’ll be back soon, though, to collect them, so I put you here.”

  A chill ran through Anna as she unlatched one of the suitcases. Pulling out a dress, she shook it as she went to the closet. “Do you think she’ll want her job back, then?”

  “Who knows with that one. Totally undependable, she was—running off with someone and not having the common decency to tell us.” Mrs. Calder oozed with disapproval as she crossed to the door then paused. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall. If you need anything, let me know.”

  After hanging up her dresses, skirts, and shirtwaists, Anna let the rest of the unpacking wait. She went down the stairs and made her way to the study.

  Morning sunlight filtered over the stacks of papers on the desk where Tyler sat in the corner. He looked up, his expression wary and unwelcoming, but with a wave of his hand, he indicated she take a chair. Putting his elbows on the desk, Tyler clasped his hands together while giving her a searching look.

  “I’m quite capable of helping my father with all of this.” He flung a hand out toward the files and papers covering the desk.

  Was he really? She’d thought this particular battle over. “But you haven’t so far, have you?”

  “I could if Father would let me.”

  “And I could if you would let me.”

  To her astonishment—since she hadn’t thought it possible—a fleeting smile lifted the corners of his mouth, even as his eyes still mocked her with their curious intensity. The effect was unsettling.

  Anna sat straighter, stiffening her spine. “Mr. Richardson made it quite clear he wanted someone to help him with the estate. If you make things so difficult that I am forced to leave, I’m sure he’ll simply get someone else.” Surely this irritating man could see this was not a battle he could win.

  Tyler grimaced as he considered her words. Finally, he muttered morosely, “I suppose you’re right.”

  Anna surveyed the room, which still overwhelmed her with its massive built-in bookcases packed with leather-bound books and the rich, heavy draperies that flowed onto wooden floors. Lamps, paintings, and ornaments all showed the tastes of another day. But there was a problem. All available desk space was taken.

  “I’ll need a place to work. Do you have a spare table and chair that can be brought in?”

  “I’ll find something.”

  When Tyler returned, he carried a small table, which he planted to the right of the desk with an air of impatience before striding out. This time he came back with a straight-backed chair and positioned it at the table, dropping it with a thunk.

  “Will that do?” The words were polite. His tone was not.

  She ignored his peevishness. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Taking a stack of files from Lawrence’s desk, she took her place at the table and began looking through them.

  The door closed behind Tyler none too softly, making her jump slightly. Fortunately, he hadn’t seen her reaction so couldn’t revel in it. As Anna reviewed the files, she sorted them into various piles. One of the folders had to do with income tax. Many of the papers inside had notes written by a feminine hand in the margins—probably made by the secretary who had disappeared so suddenly. Anna lowered the file and, with furrowed brow, stared sightlessly out the window. How odd that no one in the house knew where the woman had gone or where she was now. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.

  Chapter Three

  Anna spent the rest of the morning familiarizing herself with stacks of information. There were a number of files that contained papers that obviously didn’t belong, but as she perused the tax files, Anna was pleased. The categorizations seemed to be appropriate and in good order, and most of the transactions had been reconciled. The last secretary had made a good start.

  Mrs. Calder stopped in around twelve thirty to explain lunch was served buffet style—set out at noon and picked up at one thirty. Anna thought that was a good time to take a break and followed Mrs. Calder to the dining room.

  Like the rest of the mansion, the high-ceilinged dining room was also impressive, with heavy, dark beams arching overhead. A huge stone fireplace at least ten feet long dominated the
west wall. Two long, tan leather sofas were set out in front, with a few chairs grouped around. Kent, who had finished eating, paused on his way out to greet her cordially and exchange pleasantries.

  As Anna crossed the room, a petite woman with an intelligent, sensitive face rose from the table. The long green chiffon dress she wore made her seem to float as she drifted over like a cloud, a gentle, welcoming smile on her face. She reached out to take Anna’s hand. “I’m Grace Richardson. And you must be Anna.”

  How small and fragile Grace’s hand felt in her own! Grace’s long, fair hair was straight and shimmering, floating like the rest of her. She was as slender as a twenty-year-old, though she appeared to be in her early thirties.

  “I often eat in my room,” Grace continued, “but I wanted to meet you. Why don’t you fix yourself a plate and come sit by me.” When Anna glanced at the sideboard, Grace explained, “The men prefer meat and potatoes or sandwiches if they’re in a hurry, but Pearl always sets out a few salads and side dishes.”

  When Anna had dished up a shrimp salad and buttered a crescent roll, she sat next to Grace, who examined her with undisguised interest in her gray-green eyes.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” Grace began. “I think it’s terribly exciting you have a job.”

  Anna smiled wryly. So many people looked at her as if she were a two-headed creature when they found out she worked as a secretary.

  Grace pushed her plate aside. “I read that when so many men went to fight in the Great War, it gave women a lot more opportunity.”

  “I believe that’s true.” Then Anna asked, “Were Kent or Tyler in the war?”

  “Both of them registered, but they were temporarily deferred because they were married.” Grace leaned forward, elbows on the table, her face alight. “So are you part of the women’s movement?”

  “Not actively, though I agree that women ought to have the right to vote.”

  “Kent told me you work for the same company as the last secretary.”

  “Acer Secretarial Services. I’ve been there for six years. Now, if I were a man, I’d be running the place, but I haven’t done too badly.” Anna smiled. “The manager trusts me, though he still checks my work. I’ve managed to take on more responsibility, and now I specialize in taxes and estates.”

  Grace looked at her wide-eyed. “Golly, how did you learn all of that?”

  “College, but most of it I learned while on the job.” She speared a shrimp with her fork.

  “How extraordinary! I’ve never met a woman who’s gone to college!”

  Anna laughed. “I’m only one of many, actually. And having a degree opened many doors for me. My mother worked, but the only jobs open to her were being a maid, cleaning woman, teacher, or factory worker.”

  “She must be very proud of you.”

  “Astonished might be a better description!” Anna smiled. “She’d be much happier if I’d gotten married, had children, and stayed home like a proper woman.” She finished her roll and wiped her fingers on her napkin.

  “So you’ve never been married?”

  “Engaged. Didn’t quite make it to the altar.”

  They lingered over their rice pudding, getting further acquainted.

  After Grace left, Anna put her dishes in a bin at the end of the table. How nice to have finally made a friend! She went to the kitchen to meet the cook and hopefully make another.

  Pearl turned around from the sink, wiping her hands on the white apron that covered her severe, navy-blue dress. Her light-brown hair—more gray than brown—was coiled neatly on her neck, and she wore a friendly smile.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I’m Anna Coughlin. I wanted to thank you for lunch. Everything was delicious, and I especially enjoyed the pudding.”

  “Well, isn’t that kind of you!” The cook’s pleasant face shone. “I’m Pearl DeGooyer, and you’re very welcome for the lunch. It’s nothing more than the usual, although the rice pudding is a specialty of mine.”

  The kitchen was large and comfortable—or would have been except for the wholesale destruction on the south and west walls. Judging by the different shades of paint and gouged-out holes in the walls, cabinets had recently been torn out. However, the large work table in the middle of the room was still functional. Copper-bottomed pots hung above it, catching the sunlight that filtered in through the window over the sink.

  Pearl glanced at the devastation and spoke in disgust. “We’ve a man in, remodeling, and I tell you, it makes life interesting to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner in a kitchen that’s torn up.”

  “I don’t know how you manage,” Anna declared sympathetically, eyeing the teetering piles of pans, bowls, dishes, and cooking implements stacked on the far side of the room.

  “It’s nothing but clean and cook, cook and clean. Of course, Verla helps, though she’s off today. Charles—he’s the carpenter—does his best to keep the sawdust and plaster dust to a minimum. Whenever possible, he does his sawing and whatnot outside. Fortunately, it’s a big enough kitchen that I manage to mostly stay out of his way, and he tries to do the same for me.”

  “Does he work every day?”

  “Like clockwork. Charles likes to fix a sandwich for lunch and take it outside to eat. He’ll be back at the job soon enough. Why don’t you sit down. I’ll get some potatoes to peel so I can have an excuse to sit as well.”

  “I’ll be glad to help peel.”

  Pearl looked scandalized. “I couldn’t have that! No, you just sit yourself down on that stool there and keep me company.” Getting a bowl of water and the spuds, Pearl sat at the thick wooden counter, peeling energetically as they talked. Although in her midforties, she had the vitality of a much younger woman.

  Finally, Anna rolled up her sleeves. “I can’t stand this. I’m going to help.” Picking up a potato, she asked, “How long have you been working here?”

  “About six years now. And Verla’s been here three. She’s young but a good worker.”

  “Are there any other house servants?”

  “It’s only the three of us now, although the previous secretary, Irene, lived here for a while.” Pearl dropped her potato in the water with a splash and attacked another one. “That was peculiar, her disappearing the way she did.”

  Anna agreed. “Seems strange not to tell anyone she was leaving.”

  “Very odd. She took a horse. A neighbor found it wandering about that afternoon. Mr. Barlow, who lives down the road, recognized the horse and brought it back. Still wearing its saddle.”

  “Why do people think she went off with someone? If she was out riding, she could have been thrown and injured.”

  “That’s what they thought—at first, anyway. Everyone searched for days, but there was no sign of her. That’s when people began to think Irene might have arranged to meet someone and, when she did, let the horse go.” Pearl tossed another peeled spud into the water bowl and nodded at Anna. “And if you’d have known Irene, you’d say it was just the kind of thing that woman might have done. Oh, it caused quite an uproar here, as you can imagine. It didn’t seem right to leave without a word, but Irene always did strike me as the sort of person who did what she liked.” Pearl glanced at the clock then jumped up. “Land’s sake, look at the time. I need to clear up the lunch things.”

  ***

  Back in the study, Anna needed more room than what she had on the table, so she sat on the floor to go through more files.

  Tyler stopped in to check on her, flustering Anna, who was embarrassed to be caught sitting on the floor with her dress nearly up to her knees. But he only smiled in amusement.

  Late that afternoon, Anna was sitting in a more dignified position at her desk, writing notes, when the study door opened. A tall woman, her dark hair cut fashionably short and worn in rippling marcel waves, swept into the room as vibrant and confident as if she owned it. In her early thirties, the woman was perhaps more striking than pretty. She had a rather large nose—which wasn’t too noticeable
when she faced Anna directly—with nostrils that lifted with the unconscious disdain of an aristocrat. Anna had the feeling they’d met before but couldn’t think where.

  Cocking an imperious eyebrow, she said petulantly, “Mrs. Calder told me Tyler was in here.” She had a distinctive voice, low and guttural, which also seemed familiar.

  “He was earlier, but he said he was going to the stables.”

  “Hmm. I should have known. He’s always there!” Blinking, the woman looked at Anna as if seeing her for the first time. “And who are you?”

  “Anna Coughlin. Mr. Richardson hired me to finish his income taxes and to organize the estate’s finances.”

  “Golly, how tiresome! My father always said income tax was unconstitutional and the government was nothing but a bunch of thieves. He refused to pay a dime.”

  A lot of people thought the same, but that was becoming risky now. Keeping her tone light, Anna replied, “Paying income tax has been the law since 1913, and now the government’s starting to crack down on those who don’t pay.”

  “If you say so.” The woman sounded supremely disinterested. Then she drew herself up. “By the way, my name is Helen Lewis. I imagine Tyler has told you about me.”

  Not a word, but from the way Helen spoke, she’d most likely find that insulting. Anna nodded.

  “I suppose I’d best go track down Tyler.”

  “I’ll walk outside with you,” Anna said. “I need to stretch my legs.”

  Their heels clicked across the marble flooring in the hallway then across the wooden front porch. An older Model T Ford stood in the circular driveway, the driver’s door open.

  “Not again!” Helen shouted, hurrying down the steps. A small figure backed out of the Model T and ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

  Helen ran to the automobile, with Anna right behind. On the seat was a slimy pile of mud.

  Jerking around, Helen shouted angrily, “Evan! Evan, you come back here right now!” If she’d hoped to bring the boy back by shouting at him, it didn’t work. Helen acknowledged defeat by hollering, “Your father is going to hear about this!”