The moment I saw that note taped to the door, it all clicked into place. Cora thought I was the freeloader here.
I'd been ready to teach both Georgette and Cora a lesson. But Georgette threw herself into begging, one plea after another:
"Miss Henson, I swear, it will never happen again."
"I'll set Cora straight today. I won't let her come here anymore."
"Please, after all the years I spent taking care of your parents, forgive me this once."
I looked at her, hunched and pitiful, and sighed. "Forget it."
"I'm not pressing charges."
After the police left, Georgette let out a long breath of relief, thanking me so profusely it bordered on groveling.
From that day on, Cora really did stop coming to the house. Georgette kept working just as diligently as before, keeping every room spotless.
The only problem was that things kept going missing.
A bottle of wine one day. A set of silverware the next. A designer dress the day after that.
Every time I asked, Georgette had an excuse ready:
"I'm so sorry, Miss Henson. I accidentally knocked that bottle of wine over while I was cleaning."