Jeff Woodard pulled up to the Algarotti house and parked in front. As he exited Emory’s car, he glanced up at the encroaching clouds concealing the disappearing sun. I’d love to get out of here before the snow starts.
Taking the steps two at a time to the porch, Jeff glanced at the sofa glider, where he’d had to wait earlier that day while Emory and two deputies opened the front door with a battering ram and searched inside. Walking up to the broken door, the heat from inside the house rushed past his face and bare hands as it escaped into the cold. The front door was propped against the jamb with just enough space on the right for him to squeeze through. He smirked. How angry is Victor going to be when he sees that Emory broke a third door of his?
Once he slipped through the doorway, Jeff knocked on the door. “Pristine? Pristine, are you here?”
He crept down the hall of the large house, a massive silence clenched within its walls. He looked at the grand staircase, but following a light, he turned left into the parlor. Two Tiffany lamps – one atop the bar, the other on top of the table by the fainting couch – exposed an emptiness in the room.
Zigzagging through a space left in polite disarray by the TBI’s search earlier that day, Jeff walked to the covered portrait, realizing he had never seen what lies beneath the black cloth. Pulling up one corner, he peered at the portrait of Meredith Algarotti. Although the moment captured in the portrait had long since passed, the tortured eyes gazing from Meredith’s smiling face seemed to foretell her family’s fate.
“Help me,” a voice pleaded.
Jeff jumped back, ripping the cloth from the frame. He turned around to see an anemic Pristine standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He dropped the cloth and rushed to her aid. “Pristine! Are you okay?”
As Jeff wrapped an arm around her waist, Pristine rested her left hand on his shoulder and waved the other one in front of her face. “I’m fine. Just a little winded.”
Jeff touched dampness as he pressed Pristine’s turquoise cashmere sweater against the small of her back, and he looked down to see her glistening forehead. “You’re sweating.”
She pointed to the fainting couch. “The doctor warned me that I might experience episodes of weakness. I’ll be fine in just a few minutes.”
Jeff deposited her on the couch. “Where were you? I called for you.”
“Did you see the front door?” Pristine looked around the room. “Someone broke in, and the place has been ransacked. I was upstairs seeing if they took any of my jewelry.”
“About that…” Jeff removed his coat and threw it over the back of the settee, which he scooted so he could sit facing her. “The TBI came over here with a search warrant today, and no one was home.”
Pristine’s face contorted into an angry frown. “No one’s home, so they just break in?”
Jeff offered a sympathetic tone, laying the groundwork to ask for the reward. “Unfortunately. I wish they had consulted me first. I could’ve called Victor so he could meet them here. Would you like me to make you a drink?”
Pristine lost her frown but didn’t quite smile. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Jeff headed for the bar. “Are you still a dirty vodka martini?”
“You remembered. Make yourself something too.”
“From your bar? No thanks.”
Pristine laughed. “Victor bought all new bottles of liquor. They’re still sealed, so you don’t have to worry about any poison.”
“In that case, I’ll have a vodka cranberry. Uh, is the cranberry—”
“Brand new too.”
Jeff mixed their drinks. “Aren’t you curious about why the TBI searched your house?”
“Of course I am. I meant to ask, but my head drifted away. The doctor said that could be a lingering effect of being poisoned, but hopefully it’ll go away. What were they looking for?”
Jeff handed Pristine a martini glass and sat down with his own drink. “I solved the murder of your stepdaughter.”
“That’s wonderful,” Pristine said with a lilt in her voice. “Tell me.”
“Your stepson has been arrested for the murders and your attempted murder.” Jeff waited for a shocked reaction that never came. Instead, he received an expression of mild surprise with a simultaneous hand to the bosom but no immediate words. “The TBI was here looking for evidence to use against him.”
“Oh my god,” Pristine uttered at last. “Do you know if they found anything?”
“Ye…” Jeff tilted his head and squinted at her. “You don’t seem all that surprised.”
Pristine raised her eyebrows. “I don’t?” She shook her head. “To tell the truth, I’m not surprised. Honestly, I believe that I always knew it. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Ian hated both of them, and…Well, you’ve met him. There’s something not right with him.”
Jeff chuckled. “That’s very true, but I thought you two were close.”
“I feel sorry for him really. He doesn’t have any real friends, so I’ve just tried to be there for him.”
Jeff took a swig of his drink. “On the positive side, now you don’t have to worry about being poisoned again.”
“Thank god.” Pristine sipped her drink and nodded to him. “No, thank you for putting an end to him.” She raised her glass in a toast to Jeff and took another sip. “I knew you’d do it.”
“Speaking of thankfulness, Victor promised a reward of one hundred thousand dollars if I brought Britt’s killer to justice.”
“Why don’t you get it from him?”
Jeff put on his most concerned face. “He was too distraught by the news about Ian, and I really need to get back home tonight. I have another case waiting for me in the morning. It would be a big help if I could just settle up with you.”
Pristine paused before smiling. “Sure. It’s the least I could do for you. Let me get my purse.”
As Pristine rose from the fainting couch, Jeff asked, “Do you want me to get it for you?”
“No.” She held up her glass. “The drink is helping. I’m feeling much better now. Check?”
Jeff held up his phone. “I can take credit card.”
Pristine went to her purse, which was behind the bar, while Jeff pulled his card reader from his pocket and attached it to his phone. He saw Emory calling, and he sent it to voicemail. You’re going have to wait. As he brought up the app to accept the charge, he lost track of her location, so he was startled when she came up to him from behind the settee.
“I’m sorry.” Pristine handed him her credit card. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t. I just got a shiver.”
Pristine returned to the fainting couch. “Ooh, that means someone in the future is walking over your grave.”
Jeff released a polite laugh at her reference to an old wives’ tale. He handed her back her card and gave her his phone. “Just sign with your finger.”
Pristine did as instructed and returned the phone to him. “Is that it?”
“That’s it.” Jeff sighed in relief at getting his big payday. “Thank you for your business. Now that the money matter is out of the way, I have something else I wanted to talk to you about.” He pulled from his pocket the folded flyer he had drawn on while in the sheriff’s station earlier. “Do you recognize this?” He handed the flyer to Pristine.
“It’s Scot Trousdale. Someone drew a pretty lame-looking beard on him.” Pristine got up and handed the flyer back to him. “I’m getting a refresher. Do you want another?”
Jeff handed her his glass. “Just cranberry juice this time. I have to drive.”
“You got it, lightweight.” Pristine carried their two glasses to the bar.
“That’s something I’ve never been called before.” Jeff turned his focus again to the flyer in his hand. “Getting back to my terrible artwork, I didn’t realize until a little while ago that I had seen Scot before the first day I walked into the water factory. He looks different without the beard he was sporting the few times I noticed him in Knoxville, and I don’t think he wore glasses then. You know, I like beards on some guys, but it wasn’t doing him any favors. He was smart to lose it when he moved here.” He again looked at Pristine, who was just putting ice in the mixing cup. He held the flyer up, facing her. “You still don’t remember Scot looking like this?”
“Should I?”
“He was the manager at If Tomorrow Comes at the same time you worked there as a waitress. He had to be your boss.”
Pristine threw her hands up. “Fine. You got me there. Scot called me after he got fired from the club, and he asked if I could give him a job. Of course, I have no say over who Victor hires, but I helped him the same way you helped me get hired.”
Jeff realized that last bit was to remind him she was no worse than he was.
Pristine began shaking the mixing cup, and the rattling ice paused the conversation. Once she was done, Jeff asked, “Were you surprised when you heard Scot was arrested and learned what he had been doing at your husband’s company?”
“Naturally, I was shocked.” Pristine drained the mixing cup into her glass.
“I’ll tell you what bothered me about it, apart from all of the obvious. The hidden room. We didn’t take time to find the way in. We just knocked down the wall, but there had to be one. Scot’s clever – the scheme he devised, the formulation of the drug and planning ahead in case he ever got caught. I know the hidden door is not an original idea, but how many have you seen in the real world?”
Pristine poured cranberry juice into his glass. “You have one in your office.”
“Exactly!” Jeff exclaimed. “But I’ve loved mystery novels all my life, including the gothic ones with secret doorways and rooms. I’ve wanted a hidden passage in my home since I was a kid. I just don’t think the idea would pop into most people’s heads unless they had seen one in action or perhaps heard about it.”
“What are you saying?” Pristine brought his glass to him.
“You and Scot have a shared history that I have a feeling involves more than his past two jobs. He’s never been to my office, but you have.”
“Here’s your drink.”
“Thank you.” Jeff realized that he didn’t see another glass, or her other hand for that matter. “Where’s yours?”
Pristine swung her other hand around toward Jeff. Something popped against the nape of his neck like a snapped rubber band.
He heard a loud yelp and realized it came from him. He could no longer control his body as his muscles convulsed, sending him scooting to the floor. He looked up, unable to move, and only then saw the object in Pristine’s other hand.
She told him, “We also share an affinity for stun guns.”