Page 27 of Dirty Looks

“Me, Molly, and Geoffrey,” she said. “Geoffrey is Mr. Lidle’s secretary, so he frequently travels with Mr. Lidle. Also Alex. He runs the stables. We’re the only staff who live on the property full-time. There’s a farmhand house where several of the trainers live, but many of them have families now and live in their own homes. It’s on the other side of the stables. We’ll occasionally have visiting jockeys and owners stay in the guesthouses. We’re expecting some in the next week or so as they prepare for the derby the first weekend in May. But as far as full-time employees who work inside the house or immediate grounds, there are twenty-five. Probably another twenty-five to thirty contractors who come in as needed, depending on the event or time of year.”

“Can you get me a list?” Martinez asked.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Who has access to the gates?” I asked her.

“All staff have access to the back gate,” she said. “There’s another entrance to the property on the west side where we are supposed to enter and exit the property. Everyone who uses that gate has passed a background check and has a key card to get inside.

“There’s another entrance on the east side,” she continued. “That’s where the horse trailers and anyone who has ranch business come in and out. But it’s also guarded and names are taken at the gate of any guests.

“Everything is documented. We always know who is on the premises at any given time. There’s another gate not far from the staff entrance where deliveries are brought through and contractors or catering vans would check in. And there’s a garage for staff vehicles just past those trees.” She pointed to the thickly forested area, though it was impossible to see anything with the rain coming down so hard.

“How do the staff get to the house or stables from the garage?” I asked, curious.

“There’s a call button in the garage,” she said, “Rodney is one of the groundsmen and he drives the staff van down to pick us up throughout our shifts, and then he’ll drive us back at the end of the day.”

“Sounds like quite the operation,” Martinez said. “Who has access to the house alarm codes?”

She chewed on her lip as she thought. “Me, Molly, and Geoffrey as far as I know. As well as the Lidles and all of their children. I’m not sure anyone really keeps track. We’ve always felt very safe here.” She rubbed her arms as if she were cold.

“And you did set the alarm?” Martinez asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I was the last one out of the house. I set the alarm and left.”

“Has anyone ever made threats before or breached the house?” he asked.

“Threats, sure,” she said. “Sometimes still. Mr. Lidle makes enemies because of certain projects he supports, so he’ll get emails. This address is not listed publically, but obviously the press or anyone can find it. His staff gets his personal correspondence. It doesn’t come here.”

“Tell me about Mr. Lidle,” Martinez said, and I could tell that we’d struck a nerve.

Astrid’s body language changed and she looked toward the kitchen, as if she were trying to see if anyone were listening.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Ms. Nielsen,” Martinez said. “Evie Lidle was brutally and violently murdered, and she was last seen alive right here in this house. We are trying to find out who could have taken her right out from under everyone’s noses. Maybe you don’t understand, but you’ve just told me that there’s a security team on this property, guards at all the entrances and exits, and that staff pretty much have the run of the estate. It makes it much more likely that someone was already inside the house when she was taken versus a stranger that breached the property.

“And you’ve also just told me you were the last person to leave the house and you set the alarm behind you, which only a few people have the code. Do you see the problem?”

“Someone already in the house?” she asked, realization dawning. And then her mouth gaped open in shock. “Me? I am a suspect? Because I saw them last? I would never hurt anyone. Everyone here adores Ms. Kitty and the children.”

“And yet you keep leaving Mr. Lidle out of the family praise,” Martinez said coldly. “Tell me about Mr. Lidle. When did you see him last?”

Her face paled as she finally realized the severity of her predicament. “Sunday morning,” she said with a slight hesitation. “He likes to read the paper and have coffee in his study on Sunday mornings whileMeet the Pressplays in the background. He’s very regimented about his schedule.

“I brought him his coffee just before nine o’clock,” she said. “I alerted him that Mr. Everett was planning to drop Evie off at the house on their way to church and that she was ill. He informed me that he would be leaving for DC within the hour, and told me to relay the information to Ms. Kitty. He said he had important meetings lined up for the entire week, and he wasn’t sure when he would be back. He’s been pushing Ms. Janet to get a gun bill through to Congress.”

“Mr. Lidle wasn’t successful in his run for Senate,” Martinez said. “Does he often try to get his own agenda passed through his daughter?”

Her cheeks colored slightly, and I knew that’s exactly what Robert Lidle was doing. “You’d have to ask him about that. I’m not up to speed on his projects.”

I wasn’t sure, but I thought I detected a bit of bitterness in her response.

“You’ve always lived in the staff cottage?” Martinez asked. “Do you have a family?”

“I was married once,” she said. “For just a short time. Maybe a year after I came to America. But it was over after a few months. And I don’t have any children. The Lidles are my family.”

“And there was nothing unusual that happened leading up to Evie’s disappearance? Anything or anyone suspicious? No strange deliveries? Anyone call in sick?”

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