Chapter 22
I rushed toward her before I thought to check for a person who might be lurking in the house after hurting her. Hesitating for mere seconds, I scanned the rest of the room but didn’t see anyone.
“Don’t touch the fridge,” she mumbled.
I dropped to my knees and looked closer. “Jacquie Liebhaber?” What was the famous author doing on my floor?
“Don’t touch the fridge,” she repeated.
“Are you okay? Can I help you up?”
She nodded slowly. “Help me sit. But don’t touch the fridge.”
I reached under her arms and gently pulled her into a sitting position. “Don’t let Kittikins touch the fridge, either. It will kill her.”
“Kittikins? Do you mean Peaches?”
Peaches circled Jacquie, rubbing her head against her.
“Cute name.”
“What’s wrong with the fridge?”
“I don’t know. It shocked me.” Her eyes widened. “Did you arrange for it to do that?”
She wasn’t making sense. “Did you collapse? Maybe I should call 911.”
“No!” Jacquie leaned away from me. “Please don’t do that, Florrie. I’ll be fine.”
“You know my name.”
“Maxwell talks about you with such warmth. He has total faith in you.”
That was lovely to hear, but I felt like I had let him down because I hadn’t managed to find the real killer yet. “What happened?”
“I grabbed the door handle and a shock surged through me. It knocked me to the floor. I think I might have passed out.”
“Let me see your hand.”
She held her right palm up. Sure enough, it was blistered from the burn. I could see the line of the handle. “I don’t want to scare you but that looks pretty ugly. I’ll take you to the emergency room. My car is right outside.”
“No,” she breathed. “No, I’m much safer here.”
There were so many thoughts running through my head that I barely knew where to start. The only thing I knew for sure was that she wasn’t a threat to me.
“Are you strong enough to walk to the sofa?”
She nodded. “I think so.” She grasped my arms while I tried to help her stand. She grunted in a most unladylike fashion that didn’t seem like her at all. “Good heavens! It really knocked the stuffing out of me.”
She leaned on me to walk to the sofa. “Better call a repairman before you accidentally touch the refrigerator door.”
When she sat down, Peaches jumped into her lap and Frodo did his best to vie for her attention.
I retrieved hydrogen peroxide and nonstick gauze for her hand. While I gently cleaned it, I asked, “Is there someone I should call? Your husband, maybe?”
“No!” Her eyes widened. “No one can know.”
I gazed up at her. There was no mistaking the terror she felt. “There’s a private investigator looking for you.”
“He came here?”
I nodded. “There must be someone you can trust. A sister? A best friend?”
“My best friend is in jail.” She gripped my wrist. “All I have is you, Florrie. I realize that you don’t know me, but I need your help. I never meant to involve you. If I hadn’t been shocked by the refrigerator, I would have been gone by the time you got home. I’m so sorry, honey. But I beg of you—no one can know that you saw me. Okay? Please?”
Her desperation horrified me. What if I were in her shoes? What if I couldn’t go to my sister or my parents? What would I do? But as I thought about it, I wondered what she had done that made it necessary for her to be in hiding. “What happened, Jacquie? What did you do?”
“Aside from marrying the wrong man, I didn’t do anything. The law isn’t after me if that’s what you’re worried about.” Her grip tightened. “Swear to me that you won’t tell anyone you saw me.”
I hoped she wasn’t lying about not breaking the law. “Tell me the truth,” I said. “Were you involved in the murder of Delbert Woodley?”
“Ugh. I loathed that snake. I suppose you know he stole some of my books and passed them off as his own, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking. He was a miserable louse, who will probably show up in one of my books one day under another name, but I didn’t kill him. I wouldn’t dream of doing time in prison for ridding the world of that vermin. He wasn’t worth losing my life and freedom over.”
I believed her.
“Please, Florrie. I have to figure out how to emerge from this mess unscathed. Promise me that you won’t breathe a word to anyone.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
Her fingers relaxed, but her eyes were trained on mine like she was trying to tell if I was being honest.
“Are you okay here by yourself?” I asked. “I don’t know which electrician the professor uses. I’ll have to run over to the mansion to see if I can find a phone number.”
“Used to be Alan Pettigrew. You’ll find his number in the Rolodex on Maxwell’s desk in the library.”
Out of an abundance of caution, I fetched Peaches’s carrier, lifted her off Jacquie’s lap, and put her inside, apologizing for having to lock her up. “It’s for your own safety.”
Frodo still wore his leash. I picked the end up off the floor. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Jacquie.
She reached out and grasped my hand. “Florrie, I know this is all bizarre, but I’m not here. Do you understand? Please don’t tell anyone. Not even the guard. I’m trusting you, sweetheart. If they find me, they’ll kill me, and it will look like an accident.”
It struck me that she wasn’t being melodramatic. She meant what she had said.
Locking the door behind me, I hurried across the pavement to the mansion. The guard and a nurse I had never met before were eating pizza in the kitchen.
I greeted them briefly and made a beeline to the library. Amazingly, exactly as Jacquie predicted, I found Alan Pettigrew’s number in Maxwell’s Rolodex under electrician.
It was closing on eleven o’clock at night. I wondered if Alan took calls this late. Using the phone on the desk, I called him.
A man answered in a booming voice. “Maxwell! I thought you were in the slammer!”
He obviously had caller ID. “I’m afraid the professor is still in jail. This is Florrie Fox, his assistant.”
“That’s too bad. I wish they would let him go.”
“I hope you don’t mind me calling so late. It seems we have a dangerous situation.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I’m told the refrigerator is somehow electrified. It shocked a guest.”
“Sounds like a short. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Thank you! That’s wonderful.”
Stopping by the kitchen on my way out, I informed the guard that we were expecting an Alan Pettigrew.
He nodded calmly and continued eating, which didn’t do much to build my confidence in the fellow. But I thought I’d better get back to Jacquie. She was in no shape to be alone.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I took care to throw the bolt on the door, but when I turned around, there was no sign of Jacquie.