The Housemaid's Secret

Prologue

In the darkness of a small cabin, the narrator knows with absolute certainty: tonight, they will be murdered. Lightning flickers across the room, briefly revealing the wooden floorboards where they picture their own body sprawled out, a pool of red spreading beneath them in an uneven circle, eyes staring into nothing, a trickle of blood running down their chin. They push the image away. Not tonight.

The storm is severe, but the blackout is not the storm’s doing. Someone has cut the power. Someone has already taken one life tonight and expects the narrator to be next. What started as a simple cleaning job is now a desperate fight for survival that could end with their blood being mopped off the cabin floor.

Waiting for another flash of lightning to show the way, the narrator moves carefully toward the kitchen. There is no plan, only the hope of finding a weapon: an entire block of knives, or even a fork. With bare hands, they are done for. With a knife, their chances might be slightly better.

The kitchen’s large picture windows let in more light than the rest of the cabin, and the narrator’s pupils strain to absorb everything. But three steps across the linoleum and their feet slide out from under them. They fall hard, cracking an elbow badly enough to bring tears to their eyes, though tears are already there. As they scramble back up, they realize the kitchen floor is wet. Lightning flashes again, and they look down at their palms. Both are stained crimson. They did not slip on water or spilled milk. They slipped on blood.

PART I

PART I

A woman sits in the dark, taking inventory of her body. Nothing hurts. She's still intact, which means the blood she's lying near isn't hers. Not yet, anyway. She commands herself to move, and this time she makes it to her feet, reaching the kitchen counter. She gropes for the knife block but can't locate it. Then she hears footsteps growing closer. Someone is in the kitchen with her. She knows, with a sinking heart, that she has made an incredibly bad judgment call. She underestimated an extremely dangerous person, and now she will pay the ultimate price.

Three Months Earlier

Millie has just spent an hour scrubbing Amber Degraw's kitchen until it's spotless. As Millie wipes sweat from her forehead, Amber floats in looking impeccably sleek in a zebra-printed designer dress, announcing that she needs Millie to stay and keep an eye on nine-month-old Olive while she gets a pedicure. Millie cringes internally. She cleans for Amber twice a week, and she also babysits, but Amber never asks in advance. The pay is fantastic, but right now Millie has class in an hour, and she has already skipped two classes in the last two weeks for last-minute babysitting requests. She needs a decent grade in social psychology to get her degree.

Amber insists, claiming she wouldn't ask if it weren't important, though her definition of important seems to involve a pedicure in the tail end of winter. Olive's high-pitched wail comes from the living room, and Millie goes to her. The baby has pulled herself up in her playpen, crying so desperately her face is bright red. When Olive sees Millie, she lifts her arms, and her sobs subside as Millie hefts her up. Olive buries her wet face in Millie's shoulder. Millie reflects that the second she turned thirty, some switch flipped inside her, making her adore babies.

Amber tugs on her coat and grabs her Gucci purse, assuring Millie she won't be gone long, which they both know is a lie. As Amber digs through her purse, Olive nuzzles Millie and, with four tiny teeth showing, gleefully declares, "Ma-ma." Amber freezes. Her face turns pink. She asks if Olive just called Millie "mama," and Olive keeps gleefully crying out the word no matter how Millie tries to correct her. Amber throws her purse on the coffee table, her face twisted in anger. She accuses Millie of telling Olive she's her mother. Millie swears she only tells Olive her name is Millie, that the baby is just confused because Millie is the one who spends so much time with her.

Amber's eyes widen. She latches onto that implication too: is Millie saying Amber is a bad mother? The accusations spiral. Millie's exorbitant babysitter pay is circling the drain. Amber demands her baby back, but Olive clings to Millie's neck, sobbing "Mama," while Amber wrenches her away and scolds the infant. Millie tries to correct Olive one last time: "Millie." But she knows it doesn't matter. After today, she will never be allowed in this house again.

The South Bronx

Walking from the train station to her one-bedroom apartment in the South Bronx, Millie keeps one arm clutched around her purse and one hand on the can of mace in her pocket, even in broad daylight. The neighborhood is one of the most dangerous in New York. If she doesn't find another job to replace the income she just lost, with no reference from Amber, the best she can hope for is a cardboard box on the street.

She gets the sensation of being followed. Footsteps behind her grow louder, and a shadow looms as she reaches her building door. A man in his mid-twenties with a scar over his left eyebrow and slightly damp dark hair stands there, looking vaguely familiar. He reminds her he lives at Two-C, right below her, jiggling keys that bear the same etchings as hers. Millie relents and lets him in, though she's not thrilled. When they part on the second floor, Millie can't shake the thought: he knew she lives in Three-C without being told. She hurries upstairs, slams her door, and throws the deadbolt.

She craves a hot shower. Standing under the spray, she can't believe she lost the job. Now she needs to find something else, and it's not as easy for her as it is for most people. She can't put ads up on popular childcare apps because they require background checks, and as soon as a background check happens, any job prospects are off the table. Nobody wants someone like her working in their home. She reflects that for a while, the cleaning jobs she took weren't exactly cleaning only. She used to do another service for several of the families she cleaned for, but she doesn't do that anymore and hasn't in years.

The shower temperature plummets, and she shrieks, shutting it off. Wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe, she puts a pot of water on the stove and examines her dinner options. Then pounding at the door startles her. A muffled voice calls her name, demanding to be let in.

Brock

Millie peeks through the peephole. Brock Cunningham, her boyfriend of six months, stands outside in his Brooks Brothers suit, his arms folded. He growls her name and demands entry. She opens the deadbolt and cracks the door. He pushes it open and encircles her arm with his fingers, furious. They had dinner plans in Chelsea tonight. She didn't show up, didn't answer messages or pick up her phone. She is, she admits to herself, pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.

She apologizes. He was worried something terrible had happened to her. She owes him an explanation, so she tells him: Amber Degraw fired her, and she's screwed. Brock's perfect eyebrows shoot up. He can't understand it, since Millie is basically raising Amber's child. Millie explains the kid wouldn't stop calling her mama and Amber freaked out. Brock stares, then bursts out laughing. At first she is offended, but a second later she joins in. Soon they are both wiping tears from their eyes.

Brock pulls her close, no longer angry. They have hit the sweet spot at six months, the second time Millie has reached that landmark. Brock is a handsome thirty-two-year-old lawyer from a well-to-do family. The one flaw she knows of: he has a heart condition developed in childhood, which doesn't seem to affect him, but the daily pill matters enough that he keeps a spare bottle in her medicine cabinet. His illness and uncertainty about life expectancy have made him more eager to settle down than most guys.

He offers to take her out to dinner to cheer her up. She just wants to stay home and feel sorry for herself, then look online for jobs. He protests, then suggests: what if she didn't need to worry about the rent? He has a two-bedroom apartment overlooking Central Park in a building where she won't get her throat slit during the night. It's not the first time he suggests she move in. Millie feels the pull of the argument: she could live in luxury, focus on her degree, become a social worker and do some good in the world. But every time she considers saying yes, a voice in the back of her head screams, "Don't do it." The reason is simple: Brock has no idea who she really is. Her secrets are much worse than anything involving earwax. If she tells him the truth about her past, he might leave her. If she doesn't, he will find out everything anyway. She isn't ready for that.

She says she needs her own space right now. Brock opens his mouth to protest, then thinks better of it. He asks her to at least think about it. She lies and says she will.

Another Interview

It is Millie's tenth job interview in three weeks, and she is getting nervous. There isn't enough money in her bank account to cover one month's rent. She has less than two hundred dollars. In the other nine interviews for cleaning or babysitting positions, one woman assured her she planned to hire her, but a week passed with no word. Millie assumes a background check was run and that was the end of it. Any other person could join a cleaning service, but none will hire her; nobody wants someone with a criminal record inside their home. So she puts up ads online and hopes for the best.

Today she is meeting a man named Douglas Garrick at an apartment building on the Upper West Side, just west of Central Park. It's one of those Gothic buildings with mini towers rising out of the skyline.

Millie steps through the door held open by the white-haired doorman, smiling up at him, but the prickling sensation at the back of her neck returns. She has felt watched ever since the night she came home after being fired. She whirls around to look behind her, but no one on the busy street is paying attention. Then she sees the car: a black Mazda sedan with a cracked right headlight. She is certain she saw the same car outside her apartment building in the Bronx. The car is empty. She memorizes the New York license plate, 58F321, before the doorman asks if she is coming inside.

The lobby is lit by chandeliers and torch-like wall lamps. When the doorman

Part II

Part II

Wendy speaks directly to the reader, asking if they think she's a terrible person. She admits Douglas never laid a finger on her, but insists he was a terrible husband who humiliated her and made her life miserable. She says she would have happily gotten a divorce—this didn't need to end in his murder. As for Millie, Wendy calls her an unfortunate casualty, but not as sweet as people think. Even after hearing her side, Wendy knows the reader might still think she's terrible. And the truth is, she doesn't really care.

The story shifts to Wendy's guide: How to Get Away With Murdering Your Husband — A Guide by Wendy Garrick.

Step 1: Meet a Man who is Single, Clueless, and Filthy Rich

Four years earlier, Wendy stands in an art gallery, baffled by an exhibit of shredded clothing stitched into patchwork. A male voice jokes from behind. Wendy turns and recognizes Douglas Garrick from a rare photo she studied carefully: unkempt brown hair, crinkling eyes, a crooked incisor. His cheap white shirt is misbuttoned, and he badly needs a shave. Despite his appearance, she knows he's one of the wealthiest people in the country.

He introduces himself as Doug Garrick. When she tells him honestly she doesn't understand the art, he delivers a pretentious defense—then smirks and admits he was making that nonsense up. What he actually loves about the gallery is the food. He returns with a plate piled disturbingly high. Wendy panics inside at the calories, but takes a bite of the mushroom tart he insists she try. It's heavenly.

Wendy realizes this man is not what she expected when she came to seduce him. It will be far easier than she thought.

Step 2: Get Hitched to the Filthy Rich Man

Three years earlier, Wendy is furious with Douglas. They're supposed to leave for a party, and he stands in the kitchen in sweatpants, eating Nutella straight from the jar. He claims he forgot, suggests skipping it to see the new Avengers movie. Wendy insists they go: everyone will be there, and she wants to be seen on the arm of her wealthy fiancé in an Armani suit she picked out to hide his gut.

The apartment they live in is a disgrace to Wendy—only three bedrooms. She reflects on her childhood: her father was a maintenance worker, her mother a preschool teacher, and she shared a bedroom with her bed-wetting sister. She earned a scholarship to a snooty private school but was mocked for her clothes. College failed her after an incident where she was accused of cheating and escorted off campus. She wishes all those people could see her now.

The doorbell rings. It's Joe Bendeck, Douglas's lawyer, dropping off papers. Joe hands Douglas an envelope—a prenup. Douglas protests: "Aw, Joe. I told you, I can't ask her to do this…" Joe insists Douglas can't marry that woman without protection. He warns that if the marriage falls apart, Wendy will take half of everything. Joe delivers the clincher: if Wendy truly loves him, signing shouldn't matter. Wendy holds her breath, hoping Douglas will tell Joe to go to hell. Instead Douglas says, "Okay. I'll get it done."

The Prenup

Days later, Joe Bendeck takes Wendy through the terms. Wendy claims she doesn't feel comfortable with a prenup. Joe insists it's extremely generous: ten million dollars if they divorce, but she can't go after other assets. Wendy pulls out an embroidered handkerchief and dabs at her eyes, asking Douglas if he doesn't trust her. Douglas throws an arm around her and insists he trusts her—but he can't marry her without the prenup. Wendy sees that Joe has convinced him. Ten million is nowhere near half of Douglas's worth, but it will keep her comfortable for life. She signs.

Step 3: Enjoy Married Life... For a Little While

Two years earlier, a realtor shows Douglas and Wendy a penthouse apartment. Douglas is reluctant, calling it insane. Wendy points out the penthouse isn't larger than Orson Dennings's. She reflects that Douglas grew up poor, raised by a single mom in Staten Island, worked his way through MIT. He's not used to having money. Wendy hates poverty with a passion—hand-me-down clothes, used cars, clipped coupons—and now that she has money, why shouldn't they have everything?

She plays her trump card: it will be great to have a place to stay when they bring the children into the city. That always works, because Douglas wants four kids. His eyes soften and he gives in.

Lunch with Audrey

Wendy loves lunching with her friend Audrey, who's always full of gossip. Audrey is bursting with news. Ginger Howell's divorce went through. Ginger had help from someone named Millie, a cleaning woman with a reputation. For women having issues with their husbands, Millie helps them out—tells them what to say and do, finds them great lawyers, and has even helped a few women disappear. In some situations with no way out, Millie took the guy out. Millie went to prison for killing a man who tried to rape her friend.

Wendy mentally ticks off Douglas's flaws: using half the toilet paper roll, eating directly out of containers, never learning which fork to use. She used to think she could change him, but he seems to be getting worse.

Audrey notices Wendy hasn't ordered food in their last three lunches and brings up the baby front. They've been trying for about a year with no success. Audrey recommends a fertility specialist. Wendy programs the number into her phone, though she has no intention of calling.

Step 4: Realize You and Your Husband are Completely Wrong For Each Other

One year earlier, Douglas steps into the dining room and stops at the sight of two place settings. Wendy says this is their dinner—a salad. Douglas eyes the bowl of greens like it's poison. She tells him eating salad every day is what keeps her from ballooning up. He should try it.

Douglas counters that she's a stick figure, terrified of eating anything that isn't a lettuce leaf. He tells her he's worried—she passed out after her run yesterday. She denies it, but he insists he was about to call an ambulance. She suggests he come running with her tomorrow. Douglas says he couldn't keep up. She asks which of them is unhealthy, then. He offers another theory: maybe being so skinny is what's keeping her from getting pregnant.

Douglas sits across from her, and the question hangs between them. He apologizes, then eyes the salad suspiciously, asking if there's dressing on it. He chews, complaining it feels like eating grass. Douglas swallows, scrapes his chair back, and stands. "Where are you going?" she asks. "KFC." She begs him to do this with her. He invites her along instead, reminding her they used to eat fast food while dating. She refuses. Her fast-food days ended when she married a tech millionaire. Douglas gives her a sad look, leaves, and drives off. It's at that moment Wendy knows she can no longer be faithful to her husband, because she no longer respects him.

Retail Therapy

With her marriage falling apart, Wendy decides some retail therapy is in order. On her way out, she runs into Marybeth Simonds in the lobby, a receptionist at Douglas's company. Marybeth clutches a manila envelope of documents for Douglas. Wendy says he isn't in and tells her to leave it with the doorman. Marybeth asks where Wendy is headed. Wendy says she's buying furniture. Marybeth's eyes light up: her husband Russell manages a furniture store and would give Wendy a great deal. She produces a card. Wendy takes it reluctantly. As Marybeth starts toward the doorman, Wendy calls her name and delivers the correction: she prefers to be referred to as Mrs. Garrick. "We aren't friends, after all. I'm your boss's wife."

The Furniture Store

To prove she's not the most horrible woman on the planet, Wendy decides to buy a piece or two from Russell Simonds. The store is compact, but she finds a stunning oak dresser with an ornate mirror. It's exactly what she's been looking for. A rich, deep voice asks if it's a beautiful piece. For a split second, Wendy thinks she's looking at her husband. But no. This man is roughly Douglas's height and build, but trimmed neatly. He looks like the man she'd hoped to turn Douglas into. He is Douglas 2.0.

He introduces himself as Russell. When she takes his hand, a delightful tingle goes up her arm. This is Marybeth's husband, but not the potbellied, balding man she expected. She ends up buying about half the store. When she hands over her credit card, he gives her his business card with ten digits scribbled on the back, in case of any problems. She slides it into her purse, thinking there is one other thing in the store she'd like to bring home.

Step 5: Try to Find Happiness Elsewhere

Six months earlier, Wendy may be falling in love. She tried to fall in love with Douglas, truly. But Douglas has no interest in being the man she wants him to be. Russell, on the other hand, is everything.

She gazes at him across the table

Part III

Millie shuts off the television, but her head keeps spinning. Only a day has passed since she shot and killed a man in an Upper West Side penthouse, and the news report she just watched has changed everything. The face on the screen is supposed to be Douglas Garrick, the man who hired her as a companion for his wife, Wendy. But the man on the news is not the man Millie met. She studies the new photos online and finds a passing resemblance: his build is heavier, his features slightly off, his crooked left incisor different. She tries to convince herself that photos can mislead, but the doubt eats at her. Maybe she really is losing her mind. Maybe the affair the detective described and Wendy confirmed really did happen. Then Millie remembers she has proof it didn't. She drove back to the city after dropping Wendy off, and she has a witness: Enzo Accardi. She has been reluctant to reach out to Enzo, but she has no one else now. Brock, her boyfriend, abandoned her the moment he learned about her prison record. When she calls, Enzo answers instantly. She tells him she is in big trouble. He says he will be there in five minutes.

Enzo's Visit

Four minutes later, Enzo steps into her small apartment. Millie admits she had no one else to call. Enzo sneers, asking if Broccoli is not there to help, and Millie drops her eyes. It is over. But as she thinks about it, Brock was never right for her. Every time he told her he loved her, it made her skin crawl. She has bigger problems now.

They sit together on her ratty futon as Millie explains that the police are twisting everything to make it look like she was going to the penthouse to sleep with Douglas. Enzo reminds her that he warned her the Garricks are dangerous. Millie tells him the real reason she called: the man who called himself Douglas Garrick and hired her is not the same man appearing on the news. Enzo looks at her as if she has lost her mind, but then offers something useful. When Millie first told him about the Garricks, he looked them up. The Manhattan penthouse is not their primary residence. Their real home is a house on Long Island. Millie sees what this means: if the real Douglas Garrick lives out on Long Island, two other people could easily have made it look like they lived in that Manhattan apartment.

Enzo believes her, so Millie confesses the rest. The night Douglas was killed, she saw someone strangling Wendy, and he would not stop. She grabbed the couple's gun and shot him. She sobs into Enzo's shoulder, and he holds her until she can breathe again. Then Enzo challenges her certainty. Did she actually check for a pulse? No, Wendy said he had none. But can Wendy be believed? Enzo suggests the blood could have been faked. Millie thinks back to the chaos of the night: the gun firing, Douglas going down, blood spreading beneath him. She never checked. All she wanted was to get out of there. And if none of it was real, then Wendy completely tricked her. Millie had spent all that time feeling sorry for Wendy, trying to protect her, while Wendy was telling anyone who would listen that Millie was having an affair with her husband. It explains why Amber Degraw grinned when she mentioned Douglas Garrick, and why the doorman kept winking at her. The imposter came through the back entrance, where there were no doormen or cameras. Millie now understands she never even met the real Douglas Garrick. She has no idea who the man she shot actually was.

She wants to drive to Wendy's house and confront her, but Enzo stops her. The place is surrounded by reporters and Wendy will not talk anyway. Instead, he asks Millie to remember anything distinctive about the imposter. At first, she has nothing. He is a generic middle-aged white man, which is probably why Wendy chose him. Then a memory surfaces: Millie once saw him entering an apartment building with a blond woman, someone Millie assumed he was having an affair with. If they can find that building, they can find either the man or the woman. For the first time since her interrogation, Millie feels a spark of hope.

Cleaning Up and a Reunion

Enzo helps Millie clean her trashed apartment after the police search. She is grateful for the company. As she puts clothes away, she notices her hamper is lighter than it should be. The police took the clothing she wore the night of the shooting. Millie is fairly sure there was no blood on it, but the microscopic particles could still convict her. And if Enzo's theory is wrong, there really was blood that night, and the evidence is exactly where the police need it.

As they work, Millie and Enzo end up sitting on her bed. Enzo presses her about Brock, and Millie admits she kept her past from him. Enzo tells her, firmly, that who she is now is not what she did as a teenager, and that a man who could not see her clearly did not deserve her. Then Enzo asks, almost teasingly, whether Brock would punch him if he kissed her. Millie says no, but she might. Enzo leans in anyway. Millie realizes she has been waiting for this for nearly two years. She finally understands why she could never fully give herself to Brock, and she does not punch Enzo in the nose.

Staking Out the Brownstone

At six in the morning, Millie and Enzo sit outside the brownstone building where Millie once saw the imposter with the blond woman. Millie is exhausted. Her sleep the night before was hardly restful after the late night she and Enzo spent together, but Enzo insisted they needed to be there first thing to catch anyone coming or going. Their disguises are just baseball caps and sunglasses. Enzo wears a Yankees cap; Millie wears a tourist hat that reads "I love New York" with a red heart, and she finds it humiliating. Enzo insists the tourist look is the best disguise.

They move around the block to avoid suspicion while keeping their eyes on the entrance. By eight o'clock, there is still no sign of the mystery man or the blond woman. Enzo fetches coffee and bagels from a Dunkin' Donuts across the street. Millie cannot eat. She is terrified of missing them, terrified she will be arrested today, terrified that even Enzo cannot help because he does not know what the man looks like. Only she can find him.

While they wait, Enzo gently steers the conversation to the night before. Millie tells him she cannot focus on anything right now, then admits that yes, it was good. Enzo confesses he missed her terribly while he was back in Italy, that he hated choosing between his mother and the most important person in his life, and that he never asked her to wait because he could not. Millie hangs her head and says she should have waited. Before Enzo can respond, Millie grabs his arm. The woman is there, coming out of the brownstone in a knee-length skirt and blazer, her blond hair styled differently from the night Millie saw her. Millie is fairly certain it is the same woman. The woman crosses the street and goes into the Dunkin' Donuts. Enzo declares he will talk to her. Millie asks what he will possibly say. He answers, simply, that he will think of something, and that he is very charming.

A Break in the Case

Enzo is inside Dunkin' Donuts far too long. Millie watches from across the street, growing more anxious, and finally crosses over to peer through the windows. She spots Enzo and the woman at the far end of the store, talking intently. For a moment, doubt creeps in. Millie has always trusted Enzo, but there are times she questions whether she should. He left Italy because he beat a man half to death, though he claims he had good reason. He disappeared abroad again, and when he returned, he stalked her for months under the guise of protecting her instead of just calling. He heard all her details about the Garricks and is savvy enough to have guessed Wendy was scamming her. What has he been saying to this woman all this time? But then the blond woman smiles at something Enzo says, and it looks innocent enough. When he finally exits, he calls out a cheerful farewell that makes the woman blush, then turns to Millie with a disapproving look. She was supposed to stay across the street.

Enzo has learned everything. The blond woman is Douglas Garrick's assistant, and she is the wife of the man Millie has been looking for. He pulls out his phone and shows Millie a LinkedIn headshot. Millie recognizes the image immediately: the man who was strangling Wendy, the man she shot in the chest. His name is Russell Simonds. And according to Enzo, as of this morning, he is alive. His wife says he has gone away on a business trip, a man who is always busy, always working late. Millie feels staggering relief: she did not kill anyone after all. But it is tempered by the fact that the police think she did. Millie asks if they should wait for Russell Simonds to return from his alleged trip. Enzo says no. Now he will find out more about this man. He knows a guy.

Enzo's Apartment