100 Proof Murder Read online

  Knowing better than to argue, Jill dragged herself from the bedsheets and headed to the shower without bothering with caffeine. She’d have time for coffee along the way.

  Michael had been right about the tourists. A crowd had already formed at the distillery’s main entrance when they arrived, so they joined the second tour group. After they flashed their purple VIP passes, the guide explained exactly where Michael was allowed to shoot footage, but they could wander anywhere.

  Good to be a VIP, Jill thought, pulling out her spiral notebook. But she took few notes during the tour since Alexis Scott had given her plenty of background information. Instead, Jill jotted a few unusual details that readers always enjoyed, then waited patiently while Michael took more video than he needed. The man never cared how much he cut as long as he ended up with flawless footage for the segment.

  Just like at the previous distilleries, the final tour stop was a gift shop where those over twenty-one could sample or purchase bourbon. Jill bought an amusing coffee mug but declined the samples. Ten thirty in the morning was a tad early for strong spirits. She headed to the parking lot to wait for her perfectionist partner.

  Michael walked from the distillery sporting a big smile. ‘When you see your new best friend, Miss Scott, give her my compliments. The production department runs like a top.’ He stowed his equipment in the trunk.

  ‘I’ll be sure to tell her. Where to now, Erickson?’

  Michael stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. ‘Back to the hotel, silly girl. I want to edit the video while it’s fresh in my mind.’

  Jill rolled her eyes. ‘Would you mind taking Uber so I can use the car? Since my additions to the story won’t take long, I want to take full advantage of this purple pass.’ She held it up. ‘I plan to wander around and question the employees.’

  Michael shrugged. ‘Sounds good. Then are you coming back to the hotel or do you have other stops?’

  ‘Not sure, but you have plenty to keep you busy until I get back.’

  ‘What about dinner tonight?’ he asked, not giving up easily. ‘Or do you have plans with Nick?’

  ‘No plans so far. Nick’s dealing with a family drama. But if he calls, we’ll all have dinner together.’

  Michael brought up the Uber app on his phone. ‘Nick might as well know who he’s up against, competition-wise.’

  Jill laughed at his joke, since they were as romantically well suited as oil and water. When his ride pulled to the curb, she waved goodbye and headed to the employee entrance. After she flashed her laminated purple pass and ID the security guard waved her in.

  ‘Come on in, Miss Curtis.’ He tipped his hat as he handed back her driver’s license. ‘Miss Scott mentioned you’d be dropping by.’

  Jill didn’t know where to go first. She wandered aimlessly until she located a central lobby and chose the door marked ‘Sales and Marketing’ as her first destination. Inside everyone was so busy after the hiatus, nobody even noticed her. Of course, she didn’t let that stand in her way.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Jill said to a well-dressed employee. ‘I’m a journalist, here with Alexis Scott’s permission. I’m writing a travel feature on the corporate dynamics of Parkers Estate Distillery.’ She handed her a business card.

  The woman blinked not once, but twice. ‘This is the sales department, Miss … Curtis.’ She read from the card. ‘Unless you wish to order full cases of bourbon, I have nothing to say that would be helpful to a travel article.’ The woman couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Undeterred, Jill chose a younger and less fashionable employee this time, who was on the phone in a small cubicle. ‘Excuse me, miss,’ Jill said when the woman hung up. ‘I’m a journalist, hoping you could answer a few questions.’ She produced a magnanimous smile.

  The woman glanced around, bewildered. ‘How did you get in here? This office isn’t on the tour or usually accessible to the public.’

  ‘Oops, I almost forgot.’ Jill pulled the purple pass from her purse. ‘Alexis Scott is a personal friend and gave me permission.’

  ‘In that case, my name is Rayna,’ she said, her expression warming considerably. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘I’m Jill. Mind if I sit?’ Perching on the edge of a chair, she pulled out her notebook. ‘What was the impact of Mr Scott’s death on the employees? For instance, was the master distiller distant and reserved, so his passing didn’t affect people on a personal level? Or was Mr Scott friendly and open to everyone, no matter their job in the company?’

  Rayna nodded enthusiastically. ‘Definitely the latter. William Scott was one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. He never failed to notice when I wore something new to work.’

  ‘So he commented on your outfit, not the quality of your work?’

  Rayna’s face screwed up. ‘Well, yeah. Mr Scott wasn’t concerned with my job around here. After all, he was the master distiller, not one of my supervisors.’

  Jill feigned confusion and pushed harder. ‘Do you think Mr Scott just noticed you? For instance, would he have noticed if a male employee wore a new suit to work?’

  Rayna giggled like a child. ‘What planet are you from, girl? Mr Scott noticed all the women who worked here, not just me. But it wasn’t anything inappropriate. The boss just knew that women liked compliments – to be noticed – while men usually couldn’t care less.’ Suddenly, Rayna’s expression sobered. ‘Make sure you don’t make that sound sleazy in your article.’ She pointed at Jill’s notes.

  Feigning shock, Jill closed the notebook. ‘Absolutely not. Like I said, Alexis is a personal friend of mine. I’m not looking to cast aspersion on the dead, especially since Mr and Mrs Scott probably had a perfect marriage.’

  Just for a split second, Rayna’s expression revealed the truth. ‘I wouldn’t go quite that far. But I know that Mr Scott never flirted with me or any women his daughter’s age.’ She swiveled back to her computer. ‘Now I gotta get back to work. Good luck with your article.’

  Jill left the woman feeling blindsided. Did she just imply William Scott hit on women close to his own age? This wasn’t what she’d been looking for in human interest stories. Knowing how close Alexis had been with her dad, part of Jill wanted to head for the exit and forget about pursuing more information. Then her journalist side began to rationalize: Just because I find something out doesn’t mean I have to use it in my article.

  Jill left the sales department and headed down the long hallway to production, where employees dressed more casually than those in the office. Assuming she shouldn’t approach workers on the line, Jill followed signs to the employee breakroom. A potential interviewee – a fortyish blonde with a great figure – stood at the vending machine, deciding on which candy bar to buy. Jill immediately dug a buck from her purse and waited her turn.

  ‘Which one to pick?’ she mused, inserting her dollar bill.

  ‘They’re all fresh,’ said the blonde. ‘The guy refills the machine twice a week.’ She unwrapped her purchase and bit into something nutty.

  ‘That looks yummy. You helped make up my mind.’ Jill pushed the button for the same candy.

  ‘Glad to help.’ The blonde took another bite while assessing Jill’s appearance. ‘Are you new here?’

  Jill dropped the bar in her purse and stretched out a hand. ‘I’m Jill Curtis, a journalist from Chicago. I’m writing an article on the late master distiller and the distillery in general.’

  The woman shook hands reluctantly. ‘Is that right? Do any bosses know you’re snooping around in here?’

  ‘Alexis Scott does. She’s one of the bosses, right?’ Jill flashed her purple pass.

  ‘Alexis is the biggest and baddest, now that Bill is dead.’ She took another bite of candy.

  Jill unwrapped her bar to buy herself time. ‘You called Mr Scott “Bill”. Was he on a first name basis with everyone?’

  She shrugged. ‘He was with me. Bill was an all-around nice guy. You won’t find one person in this plant with anything nas
ty to say about him.’

  ‘I know the women liked Mr Scott, but what about the men? Was he friendly with male employees too?’

  The corners of her lips turned down. ‘Sure, with lots of them. Look, I don’t know why Miss Scott gave you permission to poke around, but I don’t like what you’re implying. You should stop asking questions that are none of your business.’ She tossed her wrapper towards the trashcan, missed, and stomped off.

  Their conversation had drawn attention. Now a few people whispered among themselves. One pulled out a phone and appeared to be sending a text while another glared at Jill menacingly. Since no one looked receptive to an interview, Jill left the employee lounge and followed the arrows toward the rickhouse. However, she didn’t even get close to where barrels of bourbon were aged to perfection.

  ‘Hold up there, Miss Curtis,’ a voice called behind her.

  Jill turned to see the security guard who’d met her at the door. The man was no longer smiling. ‘People have complained you’re bothering workers on the line.’

  ‘I haven’t gone anywhere near the line.’

  ‘And you’re asking inappropriate questions about Mr Scott.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’ll take that pass and I’d like you to leave, young lady.’

  ‘But Alexis said I could—’

  ‘I’m sure Miss Scott didn’t authorize questions about her father’s relationships with other women.’ The guard hissed the words through gritted teeth and pulled out his phone. ‘Should we ask her directly?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. I’ll go quietly.’ Like a chastised dog, Jill trailed him down the hall, into the elevator, and out the same door she’d come in. Inside her car, she pondered the guard’s choice of words: instead of ‘how well the master distiller got along with female employees,’ he’d used the term ‘her father’s relationships with other women’. Had the guard implied that Mr Scott was involved with someone other than his wife?

  Jill wasn’t interested in gossip for her article and she had no desire to embarrass Alexis. But if William had a roving eye, did that put Mama Dearest into the category of murder suspect? Jill’s suspicions about Rose deepened. With her magical purple pass rescinded, she decided to go straight to the source and set her GPS for Parker Estate. With any luck, Rose Parker Scott would be willing to chat.

  The uniformed maid who answered the door confirmed that Mrs Scott was home but not receiving guests today.

  ‘Could you ask if she might make an exception for a friend of her daughter’s? I promise not to stay long.’

  ‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but when Miss Rose takes a book to the solarium she doesn’t like to be disturbed.’ The door began to swing shut.

  ‘Oh, please?’ she whined. ‘I won’t be in town much longer.’

  ‘Leave your business card, if you have one. Then come back later in the week.’ Without waiting for Jill to dig out a card, the maid shut the door in her face.

  It took Jill a moment to remember what a solarium was, then she bolted around the house to the garden. The dome-shaped all-glass addition was easy enough to find … and easy enough to spot the sole occupant inside. Rose was fast asleep on an upholstered chaise with a novel and cup of tea beside her. Jill strode to the door and knocked before her courage evaporated.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Scott?’ She tapped gently on the glass. ‘It me, Jill. Your daughter’s friend.’

  The befuddled woman bolted upright, then stared through the wavy glass as though trying to place her. When she did, Rose padded to the door, glowering. ‘Why are you knocking here? I’m sure Alexis made it clear she doesn’t live in the main house.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, she did.’ Jill clasped her hands in front of her. ‘But it’s you I wish to talk to.’

  The glower morphed to confusion. ‘What on earth for? By now you must have plenty for your distillery article. My father said you even paid him a visit.’

  Jill racked her brain for something that would open the door. ‘Yes, Mr Parker provided excellent historical background. But my lady readers would love to know how a beautiful, couture-dressed woman could deal with corn, mash, and barrel-charring, yet always look chic.’

  Flattery, no matter how insincere, usually worked. The door swung wide. ‘I can give you five minutes, then I need to rest. Tonight is a fundraiser for the local battered women’s shelter.’ Returning to the chaise, Rose pointed at the other chair.

  ‘That’s a great cause.’ Jill sat and braced her notebook against her knee.

  ‘I’m not sure what you want to hear. I’m seldom at our headquarters or inside the plant. I might like bourbon, but I don’t like the smell of distilling alcohol.’ Rose’s nose wrinkled.

  ‘That surprises me. One of the girls in marketing said they enjoyed seeing you and Mr Scott working side by side. They hoped for that kind of relationship when they married.’

  One thin eyebrow arched. ‘Are you trying to pull my chain? No one in marketing would have said that. That particular department was William’s favorite hunting ground.’

  ‘Hunting for what?’ Jill asked.

  ‘Certainly not rabbits or squirrels, you little ninny.’ Mama Scott’s smile was downright gleeful. ‘For his next female conquest.’

  ‘You mean you knew your husband …’

  ‘Played around on me? Yes, but I was free to do the same. And in my younger days, I took advantage of our open relationship.’

  Shock and incredulity bloomed across Jill’s face, rendering her momentarily speechless.

  ‘Haven’t you ever heard of the free-love generation?’ Rose asked with a sneer.

  ‘Yes, but I thought that was confined to hippies out in California.’

  ‘What a prude you are, Jill. But now I see why my daughter likes you. You two have so much in common.’ Strolling to the sideboard, Rose refilled her cup of tea. ‘I’m afraid that’s all the time I have for stupid questions. You may show yourself out.’

  Jill, however, remained where she was. ‘Why on earth did you marry William? You’re the one who will inherit this gorgeous estate and the distillery.’

  Already stretched out on the chaise once more, Rose lifted her head and glared. ‘I owe you no explanation. And if you print any of this, you and your newspaper will be sued. However, I will answer so you don’t remain stupid your entire life.’ She pressed a button to bring the chair upright. ‘I thought Bill knew more about business than he did. And with his good looks, I knew he would give me a beautiful child, which he did. Bill had always been discreet; he didn’t spend my money foolishly, and he accompanied me everywhere I wanted to go. That man looked fabulous in a tuxedo. So all in all, he wasn’t a bad husband and I might even miss him.’ Rose sneered like the evil queen in a storybook. ‘Close the door behind you, Miss Curtis, and forget how to find my private sanctuary.’

  Jill couldn’t wait to get out of there and take a shower. Instead of walking, she ran to her car. Rose was right – Jill would never write or speak about this to anyone. Not because she feared a lawsuit, but because she hoped Alexis never learned the tawdry details of her parents’ marriage. If Alexis even suspected, she’d probably remain single her entire life.

  Before leaving the estate, Jill texted her partner that she was on her way back and sent a second text to Nick, indicating she was free for dinner and that Michael would be joining them. Nick immediately replied that he didn’t mind a crowd of thirty as long as they were together.

  So very sweet. Keep that up and there might be a goodnight kiss in the offing. As Jill turned onto the county road from the Parker driveway, she spotted something in her rear-view mirror she didn’t like – a black, full-sized SUV parked on the berm. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the same black SUV she’d noticed next to Michael’s car at the distillery. Was she being tailed? And if so, by whom?

  As the distance between her vehicle and the SUV grew in her rear-view mirror, Jill released the breath she’d been holding and tried to relax. Suddenly, the SUV spun around one-hundred-and-eighty deg
rees and accelerated to breakneck speed. It took little time for the vehicle to catch up with hers. Jill wasn’t imagining anything. She was being followed.

  NINE

  Jill drove above the speed limit all the way to the hotel, hoping to lose her tail in traffic or even better, attract the attention of the police. She would happily explain why she was speeding to the officer. No such luck on either count. By the time she left the car with the valet, the same black Escalade was idling on the ramp to the garage. Part of her wanted to run inside, jump in the elevator with other people, and lock herself in the bathroom of their suite. But another part of her seethed with anger. How dare this guy – assuming the occupant was male – stalk her to a five-star hotel like the Thurman House in broad daylight with impunity?

  Jill waited under the canopy until her brave side won out. Then she stomped over to the Escalade’s darkly tinted driver’s window and rapped on the glass. ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘I’d like a word with you.’

  A moment later the window lowered. Inside sat a thirty-ish man wearing sunglasses even though glare was no longer a problem at this time of the day. ‘May I help you, miss?’ he asked with a deeper accent than most residents of Louisville.

  ‘Yes, you can help me.’ Jill crossed her arms. ‘I’d like to know why you were parked outside Parker Estate and why you followed me downtown. What is your problem?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll tell you my problem. As a close friend of Miss Scott’s, I’m concerned for her safety and that of her family.’ He glared down his nose with haughty indignation. ‘Why is a tabloid journalist from Chicago showing up everywhere Alexis goes and dropping in on the family unannounced? Can’t you respect a family’s need to grieve in private?’

  Jill pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I am not a tabloid journalist. I write respected travel features for syndicated papers and internet sites. I am no threat to Alexis or her family. I’m simply trying to …’ She stopped herself before uttering the word ‘murder’. The cause of death hadn’t hit the papers yet, and the more time the police had to investigate the better. ‘I’m trying to be supportive of Alexis. We were friends in college. What did you say your name was?’