Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Service Pantry
The heavy mahogany doors of the dining room swung shut behind me, cutting off the low murmur of the guests and the oppressive weight of Luca Moretti’s gaze. I hurried down the short hallway toward the service pantry, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Once inside the quiet alcove, I let my left arm pull away from my waist, cradling the throbbing joint with my right hand as a soft hiss of pain escaped my lips. The white apron tied around my black maid uniform felt suddenly restrictive, cutting into the muscles I had strained earlier that afternoon.
A low whistle sounded from the dishwashing station as Mrs. Gable, the head cook, wiped down the stainless-steel counter with a damp cloth. She looked up through her bifocals, her expression shifting from professional routine to maternal concern when she saw the pale pallor of my face and the awkward angle of my arm.
"He caught you, didn't he?" Mrs. Gable asked quietly, setting her cloth down and stepping across the tiled floor. "Mr. Moretti doesn't miss much. Especially when it comes to the estate inventory."
"He noticed I wasn't using my left arm," I whispered, leaning back against the cool plaster of the pantry wall to steady my knees. "And Vanessa jumped in before I could say a word. She told him I hurt it moving furniture in the carriage house."
"That woman never speaks unless it serves her own interests," Mrs. Gable muttered, shaking her head as she reached for a jar of arnica salve from the shelf. "Moving heavy oak sideboards out to the carriage house was supposed to be maintenance crew work, not maid duty. You shouldn't have been out there alone without proper help."
"The maintenance log said the crates needed clearing before the evening frost," I replied, wincing as Mrs. Gable gently massaged the cold salve into my bruised shoulder. The sting was sharp, but the immediate release of pressure brought a measure of relief. "If I had refused, Vanessa would have made sure I was let off the payroll before the week was out. You know how easily jobs disappear around here."
May you like
"Job security shouldn't cost you your bones, Claire," Mrs. Gable said firmly, taping a clean linen compress over the sore muscle. "Luca is ruthless about efficiency, but he despises deceit more than anything. If he thinks you're hiding something about estate property or negligence, he won't hesitate to turn the investigation inward."
Before I could answer, the service bell chimed softly from the main corridor, summoning the staff back to the dining area for the dessert service. I straightened my uniform, pinned my brown hair back into its sleek updo, and took a deep, steadying breath.
