Amish Undercover by Samantha Price Read Free Book Online Page A

speaketh right.
    Proverbs 16:13
     
    Emma, masquerading as Tracey Cook, walked up the long driveway to the home of Richard Starks after announcing herself at the intercom beside the two large wrought iron gates. She stopped outside and stared up at the mansion. It appeared stark and unwelcoming. Emma shrugged off her impression, after all, how could a house be unwelcoming? It was unlike other houses in the area and was built over a twelve-acre allotment, according to Bailey.
    When Emma offered to go undercover as a maid, she never dreamed that she was going to be in such a grand home; no, it was more than a home, it was a mansion. By the size of the home, she knew that it would take more than one full-time worker to keep the place clean. Surely, one person would not be expected to do all that by themselves? Bailey had not mentioned that there would be other maids. She had assumed she would be the only one.
    Keeping on top of the cleaning was the least of her worries; she was there to observe goings on and nothing else. Bailey’s voice rang in her ears. Emma wondered how Bailey had kept the previous maid away and how he got the Maid agency to install her. No doubt, when people know that they are dealing with the FBI they do everything they can to cooperate.
    Emma wondered if Bailey was right; did Richard Starks really have all those valuable paintings stolen? What if Bailey was on the wrong track again like the time he thought that old Frank and his father had stolen paintings just because their move from Chicago to Pennsylvania was mirrored by stolen paintings, which had surfaced. What if Richard Starks was also innocent? Emma remembered how confident Bailey was that Richard Starks was the man behind the huge art theft of 1990.
    She waited at the front door assuming that there would be someone to greet her since she already announced herself via the intercom at the front gates. Emma waited for a moment in front of the two large wooden doors. She studied the doors; they must have been twelve foot tall and looked as if they had originally belonged to another building, a much older building. After a moment, Emma noticed there was a buzzer to the side of the ancient looking doors. She pushed the buzzer and waited some more.
    Suddenly one of the doors opened and a man dressed in a business suit with a briefcase in his hand looked her up and down. “Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t know, but the servants’ entrance is around the back. It’s about time you showed up. I’ve been waiting for an hour.”
    Emma noticed that his voice was as polished as his exterior. His suit was impeccably tailored, and his black leather shoes shone like no other shoes she had ever seen. He was short, clean-shaven, and balding on top, with long strands of hair combed over his bald patch in an attempt to cover it. His skin looked smooth and soft except for deep worry lines etched between fine dark eyebrows.
    “I…I’m sorry; this was the time I was told to come here.” Emma cleared her throat when she realized that arguing with her new boss was hardly a good start. “Where do I go?”
    “Around the back, but just come in this way for today. It’s alright; you weren’t to know.” A smile appeared on his face, as he looked Emma up and down once more. “You don’t look like a maid.”
    Emma opened her mouth to speak, but she had no idea how she should reply. She looked down at what she was wearing. She did not know what a maid was supposed to look like, but Bailey should know, and it was he who had given her the clothes to wear. She looked back up at him and shrugged.
    “Doesn’t matter. Come inside.” He stepped aside for Emma to enter. “I do have a butler, Mr. Brighton, but he’s away today. He’ll be back tomorrow, and he can show you what you need to do. The maid I had just left. The agency suggested you. You won’t let me down, will you?”
    “Of course not.” Emma looked down at his shiny brown leather briefcase. “Are you off to