She didn’t look anything like the undocumented immigrant who had been so eager to clean Jane’s apartment at half the going rate weeks earlier.
The hair and the wardrobe were different. The glasses were gone. Jane needed a minute to be absolutely sure it was same woman.
“Why, if it isn’t our little Maria José speaking perfect English.” Jane said. “And shopping at Gucci no less.”
“Lo siento, no hablo inglés.” The woman replied.
Jane took the seat across the table, blocking the woman‘s exit.
”You tricked your way into our apartment!”
“Let’s be civilized, Mrs. Doe,” the woman said in formal, textbook English.
“Ask yourself, Mrs. Doe, who would be interested in a recording of the talking points for the Big Lie that you and Mr. Doe pitched to Mr. Giuliani’s associates on Zoom?
”And not to worry, Mrs. Doe. I’ve been made responsible for your welfare and I’ve taken steps to disguise your voices.
“And if you do happen to end up in a witness protection program – no need to change your name. ‘Jane Doe’ is perfect.”
Jane bristled. She’d been browbeaten into giving up her maiden name when she married into the powerful Doe family.
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