Free Daughter of Deceit by Patricia Sprinkle

things.”
    Fluffy gold hair flowed over a cotton top that showed off high little breasts and left her midriff bare. Her skirt barely covered the minimum. Everywhere else her skin was an unwrinkled, golden tan. Something long and bright dangled from one hand.
    “How did you get in?” Bara demanded, climbing a few steps.
    Carlene shrugged. “I still have my key to the back door from when I worked here. Nobody asked for it back.” She descended a couple of steps and peered down at the foyer. “What was it you said was worth fifteen million dollars?”
    Bara didn’t answer the question. She had recognized what Carlene held, and was enraged. “Those necklaces are mine!”
    Carlene shrugged. “Foley bought them. Now he wants me to have them.” She smiled the satisfied smile of a young woman on the make who has found a generous middle-aged lover.
    “They aren’t his to give. Put them down and get out of this house. Do you hear me? Get out!”
    Carlene came down toward her, swinging the jewelry insolently. Bara saw that in addition to the necklaces, she carried Grandmother Payne’s diamond tiara, the one Granddaddy had bought prematurely for her to wear as First Lady of Georgia. Foley must have given that slut the combination to Bara’s safe!
    Bara stepped aside to let Carlene pass, then gripped a banister with one hand and a handful of hair in the other. She twisted the silky strands around her fingers and tugged hard.
    Carlene screamed and writhed.
    Bara tugged a second time. “Drop it!” she commanded. “Drop all of it!” When Carlene hesitated, she tugged again.
    Carlene dropped the jewelry with a stream of sewer language.
    Bara let go and shoved her shoulder. “Go on,” she said. “Get out. He deserves you. You speak the same language: gutter-raised filth.”
    Carlene stumbled down the steps and ran to the front door. She yanked the chair away from the knob and shouted, “You are crazy. I’m telling Foley, and he’s going to get you committed. You are downright crazy!” She wasn’t so pretty with her face red and her mascara streaked with tears.
    Bara threw back her head and laughed. “You haven’t seen crazy yet. If I ever catch you in this house again, I will strangle you with my bare hands. That is not an idle threat.”
    As she locked the door again she remembered Carlene’s key. Did the whole world have keys to the house? She’d gotten Foley’s back—that was one thing Uncle Scotty had accomplished—but Uncle Scotty still had his, Murdoch probably had one from when she used to come to Nana’s after school, and Carlene had one. How many other servants had taken keys when they left? For all she knew, all of Nana’s living servants still had keys as well.
    Bara checked outside doors to be sure they were locked, rammed chairs under each knob, and armed the security system with furious fingers. Feeling marginally more secure, she stomped to the library, flung her purse on a chair, and headed for the desk telephone. “I’m going to change every lock in this blessed house!”
    She stood helpless with the phone in her hands. She could not afford to change her locks.
    The receiver beeped a muted busy signal, announcing she had voice messages. She might as well check them, then she’d have that drink and take a nap.
    She’d had three callers.
    Ann Rose said, “You forgot your groceries. Call me when you get home and Francie will bring them over.”
    Payne said, “Hi, Mom. Just checking in to be sure you are okay.”
    Maria Ortiz cried, “ ¡Querida! ” My dear! “Are you all right? I hope you are simply on one of your fabulous trips, but I have not seen you for two weeks, and I am worried. Call me.”
    Bara’s hand hovered over the button to call Maria back, but she slammed her fist on the desk and hung up the phone.
    In the kitchen, she filled a tumbler to the brim, tossed back half of it, refilled the glass, and carried both glass and bottle as she climbed three flights to the attic. She