Page 3 of Deadly Designs

The man made a point of glancing at his watch, andshe felt duly chastised. “I’m sorry we’re late. There was anaccident on the bridge.”

“Very well. Please, follow me.” He spun on hisheel.

“Attitude from Alfred,” Jay muttered with a roll ofhis eyes. Aja Blue elbowed him.

As the man led them inside the palatial home, sheglimpsed marble floors, crystal chandeliers, soaring ceilings, andexpensive artwork. He then guided them to a room that lookedstraight from the Victorian era.

The focal point was a brick fireplace with a paintingmounted above that looked like a genuine Magritte, but she wasn’tan expert. The vase on the table held an arrangement of freshflowers, and roses scented the air. Aja Blue could picture women inpetticoats drinking tea and nibbling on finger sandwiches a hundredyears earlier.

“Have a seat. Mrs. Sinclair will be with you in amoment. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Soda?”

“Water,” Aja Blue said.

“Same,” Jay echoed.

Aja Blue perched on the edge of a tufted red velvetsofa with ornately carved sides and a back made of mahogany, if shehad to guess. “Have a seat, Jay.”

“Have you seen those spindly legs?” he asked, shakinghis head. “That thing won’t hold both of us.”

“Jay, it’s been around for well over a century. I’mreasonably sure it has handled a bigger load than the two ofus.”

The butler returned pushing a cart, and Jay droppedbeside her. The man handed each of them a crystal glass filled withice water. Then, he placed a three-tiered tray on the tole-paintedcoffee table. The bottom layer consisted of crustless sandwichescut into triangles. The next level held scones, while petite roundcakes filled the top. Then he placed a steaming pot and a selectionof tea bags beside the tray, along with plates and napkins.

“If there is nothing else, Mrs. Sinclair will joinyou momentarily.”

“Thank you.”

Jay picked up a finger sandwich, lifted the top, andsniffed. His face puckered. “Smoked salmon and cream cheese. Whowould eat this?”

“Ms. LaLonde. Thank you for coming.”

Jay yelped and dropped the sandwich as Mrs. Sinclairentered the room. He quickly scooped it up and stuffed it in apocket, using his shoe to remove any residue on the rug.

Aja Blue stood and shook Mrs. Sinclair’s hand. Shewore a beige pantsuit with pearls around her neck and matchingearrings. Sizeable jewels glittered on her manicured fingers, andAja Blue had no doubt all were the real deal.

“I apologize for being late, Mrs. Sinclair.”

The woman waved her bejeweled hand. “No need. You’rehere now. That’s all that matters.”

Aja Blue tapped Jay on the shoulder. “This is myassociate, Jay Guitterez. He’ll be assisting me in decorating yourpool house.”

After they exchanged pleasantries, Mrs. Sinclairindicated the sofa. “Have a seat. Can I pour you some tea?”

“No, thank you.”

“Help yourselves to some finger sandwiches. My pastrychef whips up the best food on the coast.”

Aja Blue obediently reached out but took a sconeinstead. The taste of fresh strawberries burst on her tongue, andshe almost moaned in delight. “This is delicious.”

Mrs. Sinclair picked up the teapot and filled a chinacup emblazoned with red roses. Steam wafted from the brown liquidas she reached for a sandwich and placed it on her plate. “We werelucky to snag Chef Pierre. He was in high demand. We enticed himfrom a three-star Michelin restaurant in Paris near theSorbonne.”

Aja Blue didn’t even want to think about the salaryit would take to lure a man from a job working in a prestigiouskitchen to become a personal chef.

“Your house is lovely,” Jay told Mrs. Sinclair.

“Why, thank you. We are quite fond of it.”

They made small talk while they finished theirsnacks. The butler appeared as if conjured. He removed the tray offood and used plates. Mrs. Sinclair stood, and they followedsuit.

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