“Your father always said that a cluttered mind leads to a cluttered estate,” Gloria said.
Her eyes tracked the movement of my hands as I set the platter down.
“It is nothing to be ashamed of if you need to hand over the reins.”
I set the silver platter back on the table, the ring of the metal vibrating against the wood underneath.
By eight o’clock, the house had grown quiet, the grandfather clock in the foyer ticking in a slow, heavy rhythm.
The office was dim, the only light coming from the dual monitors of my workstation.
I was analyzing the local network traffic when Vanessa entered without knocking.
Her high-heeled shoes clicked sharply on the hardwood floor.
“I need the triple-strand pearls for the gallery opening tomorrow,” Vanessa said.
She began sliding open the drawers of my jewelry chest.
Her long, manicured nails tapped against the wooden dividers with a rapid, irritating click.
“They are in the safe deposit box,” I said.
“You always keep the good pieces here,” she said, her voice rising into a high-pitched, mocking laugh.
“Or did you lose the key to that too?”
“Daniel said you can barely find your car keys these days.”
“The key is where it has always been,” I said.
“I looked in the vanity,” she said, her fingers rummaging through the papers on the side table.
“Everything is such a mess in here.”
“You really need to let someone help you organize this place.”
She reached past my keyboard, her hand brushing against the small plastic tray where I kept my active credentials.
Her fingers closed around a white plastic card with a magnetic strip.
“Vanessa, leave that alone,” I said.
“It is just a blank card,” she said, slipping it into her pocket before I could reach across the desk.
“I will bring the pearls back on Friday, if I find them.”
She left the room before I could stand up.
