She nodded. I poured, the aroma of rich full-bodied coffee delighting my senses. I put the bowl of cereal aside and sat at the table, passing her a mug of coffee, some sugar in a bowl and a carton of milk.Mary poured milk into her mug and stirred. She took the tiniest of sips and put the mug down, wrapping her hands around it. "Finn, I need to talk to you about Cassandra."A pulse of fear hit me. My hand trembled slightly when I placed my mug on the table. Did she see my hand shake? "What about Cassie?" I asked, cupping my mug with both hands to stop them revealing my nervousness. What did she know? Cassie would never have talked.Mary's face radiated the gentleness and kindness evident in her daughter and, for a mature lady her age, she was still very handsome. You had to look closely to see the impact of the hard work from both jobs she carried. Her hands were coarse and chapped."It seems Cassandra is sexually active. While I'd hoped she'd wait until she was eighteen, kids these days. He had nowhere to go but to the slammer. The tables were turned. Vengeance would be hers. But as she felt the warm glow of revenge seeping into her limbs, reality set in. She couldn’t think of revenge right now. First things first. She needed access to the phone while Richard was otherwise engaged with the guests. Survival came first, vengeance came second. She paused by the kitchen exit, her hand on the doorknob, and listened. Various voices poured into her ears, Richard’s voice among them. Beyond the door the great house stretched beautiful and lively. The guests were certainly enjoying themselves, and the servants, too, were merry. No one would notice her as she made a telephone call. It was just Mrs. Conrad, talking on the phone. Nothing special. Best to leave her alone. She scanned the kitchen, looking for a telephone. She found none. Horror set in when she remembered that there was only one telephone in the house, and it was perched on a lamp table in the foyer, near the.
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