Pristine left Jeff’s line of sight for a moment and came back with a roll of duct tape. She rolled him onto his stomach and tried to get his hands together behind his back, but the paralysis was wearing off, and he was able keep his hands at his side. She hit his neck again with the stun gun. Now immobilized, Jeff couldn’t keep her from restraining his hands by wrapping the tape around his wrists several times. Next, she taped his ankles together just before he was able to start kicking.
Once he was bound, Pristine picked up the stun gun and held it to Jeff’s neck for several seconds. He screamed and writhed in agony, as every muscle seemed to cramp at once. He was in so much pain, he wished he could pass out. When she stopped, he didn’t have the strength to even open his eyes. As he lay there, immobilized and in agony, he heard her leave the room.
Jeff forced his eyelids up and found himself staring at the floor. He tried to will his body into motion, but all of his muscles were numb and aching. Drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, he grunted as he tried to move his hands so he could get the phone from his pocket, but they wouldn’t reach past his hip. You’ve got to get up! He attempted to pull his knees up to his stomach so he could stand until he heard something above his head. Please let it be Emory. It wasn’t.
Pristine had returned, and she was pushing a wheelbarrow. She stopped beside him and put the wheelbarrow on its side with the top toward Jeff. She hit him again with the stun gun before crouching beside him and pushing him into the wheelbarrow. With all her might, she pushed against the side rim until it was once again upright with Jeff lying inside.
Pristine hurried over to the covered portrait of Meredith Algarotti, and she pulled on one side of the frame, revealing a safe hidden behind it. She punched in a code and opened the door to retrieve a glass jar half-filled with black powder. “I’m glad I had to come back for this,” said Pristine. “I might have missed you.”
Calcium carbide! Jeff struggled to pull his hands free.
Pristine hit him again with the stun gun. The rapid muscle contractions caused his head to smack the metal rim of the wheelbarrow until at last, he blacked out.
When he opened his eyes again, he was still in the wheelbarrow but outside in the falling snow with the jar of calcium carbide nestled at his side. He could see Pristine straining as she pushed him – to where, he didn’t know. He couldn’t move his head, but he saw a structure in their path. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. The maid’s house!
A few moments later, Pristine stopped the wheelbarrow in front of Margaret’s former living quarters. She opened the door and heaved the wheelbarrow inside.
As she maneuvered it through the small living room, Jeff saw several candles burning within his field of vision. He could feel the mobility return to his neck, so he tried to turn his head to the left. He succeeded, although he wished he hadn’t. Propped against the back of the couch was Scot Trousdale with a clear, plastic bag tied over his head! His dead eyes seemed to follow Jeff as the wheelbarrow rolled past. With renewed urgency, Jeff struggled as hard as he could to force his muscles into action.
Pristine released the handles of the wheelbarrow and retrieved the stun gun from her coat pocket. She rammed it against his neck once again and shocked him into submission.
Jeff’s eye’s rolled back as his head banged against the metal.
Pristine pushed the wheelbarrow forward a little further. “He came here to hide out after he broke out of jail. He had the nerve to ask me for help.” She looked down at him as she came to a stop in the kitchen. “Son-of-a-bitch wanted to screw me out of half of the drug profits.” She grabbed the jar and placed it on the counter. She tilted the wheelbarrow, sending Jeff dropping to the linoleum floor.
Jeff sat himself up with his back against a cabinet door. Through blurred vision he watched the flickering flames of at least a dozen candles burning on the kitchen countertops. Pristine came at him again with the stun gun. He lifted his heavy legs and tried to kick her away.
She dodged his feet and jabbed the gun to his throat. When his head hung limp at the neck, she placed the gun on the counter by the jar. She crouched down at his side and began mimicking Scot. “He told me, ‘I didn’t poison you. Why would I do that? I need you.’ What an asshole.”
Pristine ran her fingers through Jeff’s hair. “I am sorry about this. I really am. I always liked you. I wish you had left well enough alone – taken your reward and gone back to Knoxville. I guess I didn’t realize how good you were at your job. On the other hand, I am kind of glad you’re here. I put so much work into everything, it was killing me not to share it with someone.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I didn’t tell Scot about the murders. I couldn’t trust him not to blackmail me.”
Jeff slurred, “You?”
Pristine grinned and gave him a bashful glance. “Yeah, Ian didn’t do that either.” She stood and looked through a nearby drawer, returning with a gallon-size baggie.
Once he saw it, Jeff started fidgeting and trying to get up. “Pris…tine…don’t—”
Pristine zapped him again with the stun gun, and as soon as she stopped, she dropped the baggie over his head. The mouth of the baggie now rested around the nape of his neck, allowing in precious little air for him to breathe.
“When you think about it, this is all your fault.” She unbuckled his belt and slipped it from his pants. Wrapping it over the mouth of the baggie, she tightened it around his neck. “You promised me a rich man, but you didn’t quite deliver on that promise. His kids had all the money. That left me no choice. I had to kill Britt and frame Ian so the entire estate would belong solely to Victor and me.”
“Of course, no matter how much Ian disliked his sister, he truly hated Rick Roberts much, much more, and everyone knew it. I couldn’t frame him for the premeditated murder of his sister without the number-one person on his hit list dying too.”
Jeff gasped for air as the baggie began to fog. He tried to get his legs to work, but utter exhaustion kept them still.
Pristine arose again and continued talking as she worked. “My plan had a couple of variables that were not completely within my control.” She plugged the kitchen sink and turned on the faucet. “I could plant evidence pointing to Ian but it had to be subtle enough not to be an obvious setup while still being blatant enough to be noticed. Fine line.”
Pristine opened the jar of calcium carbide and held it up. “This is amazing stuff, by the way. I’m so glad Ian turned me on to it. It creates a fire that burns extremely hot, destroying all the evidence, even itself.”
Almost unconscious, Jeff could feel himself slipping away.