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I shrugged. “This is the extent of my polite conversation skills.”
Heidi snorted. “They need work.”
She directed me to a different room than the one I expected.
“Aren’t we going to the study?” I asked.
“Not yet. I need to dust first.” She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Visconti became aware of a dust bunny that was not to his liking.”
“Would any dust bunnies be to his liking?”
Her lips stretched thin. “No.” She halted at the door. “In here. I will let you know when the study is available.” She turned on her heel and stalked off like an ornery teenager asked to do chores for the first time in a month.
I entered the darkened space and let my eyes adjust to the lack of light. Otto sat in an upholstered chair by the fireplace. The miniature vampire was one cigar and a velvet robe short of a Hugh Hefner parody.
“Good evening, Lorelei. So nice of you to dress for the occasion.”
“I’m wearing silk.”
He chortled. “And here I thought I heard the sound of cheap polyester.”
“Is there an expensive kind?”
He smiled, displaying two stunted fangs. “How are you?”
“Busier than I’d like. What’s with Heidi? Her nose seems a little out of joint.”
“Ah, well. That’s to do with Monique.”
“Who’s Monique? New housekeeper?”
“A recent guest. She departed this afternoon, but not before identifying a layer of dust that Heidi missed the last time she cleaned. I felt inclined to mention it.”
“Got it.” To be fair, I’d be miffed, too, if I was suddenly receiving criticism from a random woman who appeared out of nowhere with bedhead and smeared lipstick.
“Granted, Monique might be a tad overprotective. She seemed concerned I was being taken advantage of because of my blindness.”
“Because Heidi missed a little dust?”
Otto turned his face toward the fire. “I felt pressure to address the situation.”
“Because you want to see Monique again? If I were you, I’d be more concerned with retaining Heidi. Moniques come and go, but good help is hard to find.”
Otto offered a tiny smile. “They do come and go, I assure you.” He motioned to the empty chair beside him. “Come in. We’ll chat here until the study is ready for us.”
I surveyed the ornate room with its brocade drapes and gilded mirrors. “This is an interesting space.”
“I call it the Collections Room.”
“I didn’t realize you collected anything aside from expensive cars and inappropriate women.” I crossed the room to examine a large display case on the wall. “Holy shitballs. Is this a Stradivarius cello?”
“From his golden period, yes.”
“I thought the family only made violins.”
“The cellos are even rarer than the violins.”
Of course they were.
