Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“But what is the—”
Maddox places a finger to his lips. I shut my mouth and return my gaze to the door.
The housekeeper has returned. She smiles at us. “Mr. Gimble will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you,” Maddox says. “And what was your name?”
“I’m Kendra. The housekeeper. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Manx.”
Maddox nods. “Of course.”
Kendra leaves the doorway and within seconds a tall man in a gray suit walks into the frame. The scowl outlined by his graying goatee is the same as when he was looking at us last night at the symphony.
“Who the hell are you?”
Quick as a flash, Maddox reaches inside his jacket and draws out a gun.
My heart leaps into my mouth, and I gulp.
Maddox places the pistol against Mr. Gimble’s forehead.
“We’d like a few words with you.”
23
MADDOX
This gun is a find from Wanda’s Wonders, the antique shop down the street where I picked up some pieces for the haberdashery. It’s an aged brass pistol with intricate engravings and a dark wooden grip.
It’s not loaded. I doubt it would do anything even if it were.
But it looks like a gun. And I’m hoping that’s enough to freak Gimble out.
I really should get myself a real gun. I’ve been thinking about getting one for years to keep behind the register at the shop in case someone tries to rob me. I’m sure my old man is rolling in his grave knowing that I can’t properly defend myself.
Of course, that’s not the only thing I’ve done that would disturb his eternal rest.
Gimble breathes in slowly. “What… What is this about?”
I lean into his ear, lowering my voice. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”
He swallows. “My… M-My office.”
“Fine.” I slowly move the gun from his forehead to the small of his back. “No sudden movements, or I’ll shoot. And something tells me your housekeeper isn’t paid nearly enough to scrub that kind of mess off the floor.”
Gimble shudders and leads us to his office.
And I realize… I shouldn’t be letting him call the shots. He probably has a panic button in his office. All these rich bastards do.
“Not here. Take us upstairs.”
He turns his head, his eyes wide. “W-Why?”
“I think you know why, Gimble.”
He raises a shaking finger. “Stairs are that way.”
We go up the stairway.
I choose a door at random. “Is anybody in that room?”
He shakes his head. “Guest room.”
“There isn’t a servant or someone in there? Because if there is, I’ll be shooting you first and them second.”
“It’s empty, I s-swear.”
Small beads of sweat have emerged on his forehead. He just wants to get out of this alive. He’s telling the truth.
I push the gun into his back. “Open the door.”
He turns the handle and pushes it open.
He wasn’t lying. It’s a guest room, with lavish crimson curtains and a matching bedspread. Seven throw pillows of varying sizes and shapes on the bed, and an ornate wardrobe in the corner. The walls are lined with mustard-yellow wallpaper.
“Sit on the edge of the bed,” I instruct Gimble.
He does so.
“Alissa, keep watch at the doorway.”
She bites her lip and stands in the doorway, switching her gaze between the rest of the house and me.
I push the gun against Gimble’s temple. “All right, Gimble. This is going to be nice and easy. I have a few questions for you. If you answer them truthfully, I’ll be out of your hair, and you can go on living your perfect life in your McMansion here. Now, tell me the truth. Is there anyone else in the house besides Kendra?”
He shakes his head. “No. My wife is out to some socialite bullshit, and Kendra is our only full-time staff.”
“Only full-time staff? Are you expecting anyone else?”
“No. Not today. We have a gardener who comes every three days, but that’s it. He won’t be here today.”
“And how long until your wife gets home?”
He breathes heavily. “I don’t know, honest to God. I’m sure she told me, but—”
“But you didn’t listen.” I shrug. “For your sake as well as your wife’s, I hope she’s busy the rest of the day. I’m sure there are lots of goodies at her society tea. Hopefully she won’t try to cut that line.”
Gimble widens his eyes. “That’s where I’ve seen you. You were at the symphony last night.”
“Good eye. Your wife tried to butt in front of my girlfriend”—I gesture toward Alissa—“at the snack bar during intermission.”
He drops his jaw. “Is that what this is about? My wife being a bitch?”
I chuckle. “Hardly. But good to know you can recognize a face. Let me describe another one. Young, hot. Pale skin. Long blond hair. Eastern European origin.”
He narrows his eyes. “That’s hardly a description at all.”
“Let me finish, Gimble.” I grind the gun into his temple. “This young woman would have been wearing a bikini. Black with white diamonds on it. Ringing any bells?”