Beer Money (A Burr Ashland Mystery) by Dani Amore Page B

slightly to the side and pushed a button. Next to my ear, along the gate's wall, a speaker popped. I turned, and saw the small speaker recessed into the stone.
    "How may I help you, sir?" the man asked.
    "I'm here to see Mary Schletterhorn."
    "Do you have an appointment?"
    "No." He looked at me, bored.
    "I apologize sir, but I'm afraid you need an appointment. Good day."
    He let go of the button and started to turn.
    "Tell her I'm a big fan of her early work in film."
    His stride caught, and he turned back to me. His eyes ran over my car and he peered more closely at my face. He then gave an imperceptible nod and headed back toward the house, his gait patient and measured.
    I turned on the radio and listened to the song, a jazzy piano instrumental that had me tapping along in rhythm on the steering wheel.
    Suddenly, I felt good, I felt like I was doing something. Taking action. Making progress. I didn’t know if the woman in the big house before me could help me find out who threw my best friend out a third-story window, but I was going to try to find out.
    Without warning, the iron gate slowly began sliding open. When it clanged into place, I pulled through and drove slowly toward the house.

Eighteen
     
    The driveway, made of old brick fastidiously placed to look quaintly haphazard, wound its way through the winter-thinned trees and spilled its travelers out onto a semicircular drive. In the center was a giant fountain that looked like a Roman sculpture created by an ancient artisan in the last stages of hemlock poisoning.
    I pulled the Audi directly in front of the house's main entrance, four huge wooden doors that looked like something out of medieval times. I half-expected them to lower like a drawbridge. Upon closer inspection, the house wasn't massive. It was gargantuan. It was without a doubt the largest private residence I'd ever bullied my way into. I craned my neck in order to look toward the roof, and felt like I was at the bottom of a mountain, wondering how I would ever be able to achieve its summit.
    I looked back toward the massive doors and looked for a doorbell, probably some kind of giant iron knocker. I caught sight of the small video camera nestled between two giant wood beams that supported a small overhanging roof and knew there would be no doorbell or iron knocker. The alarm and security system on the house would be extensive to say the least.
    With perfect timing the big doors opened and instead of a stony grate, there was a faint whisper of frequently oiled machinery. The man appeared again. His coat was gone revealing a stiffly starched white shirt. A nurse, most likely.
    Albeit a nurse with broad, thick shoulders and powerful arms. Two beady blue eyes hovered above his nose that had been broken at least once, if not several times.
    His face had apparently been chiseled from the same type of stone that was used in the driveway fountain.
    "Come this way," he said to me, his voice smooth and metered. He turned and walked back through the large doors, not bothering to wait for me. I walked up the three steps that led to the doors, then walked through them, and saw that the man had in fact waited for me just inside, his fingers resting on a level of sorts that acted as a switch for the giant doors. I had the idea that he may have considered throwing that switch a bit early and catching me in the middle.
    Once I passed by, he threw the switch and the doors closed. He turned and breezed past me. I caught a faint scent of cheap cologne and industrial strength mouthwash. I followed him as he walked down a long hallway that was so cavernous and cold that it reminded me of caves bored by molten lava, straight out of National Geographic.
    I peered at the walls, trying to see if it was plaster or stone.
    The man ahead of me, his back still to me, said, "The walls are stone. Imported from Germany."
    "Shipping costs must have been exorbitant," I said. The man made no response and simply kept walking.
    Halfway