DUNEDIN, NEW ZEALAND
The BMW convertible came to a screeching stop in a quiet cul-de-sac. Mary put the car in park, handbrake on, turned the engine off, and stepped out. She scanned about the 1920’s bungalow in distaste before she headed to the front door. She waited impatiently after giving the bell a couple of rings.
The moment the door opened, Mary smiled charmingly. “Hello? Is this Alexandra Stewart’s house?”
Jacob nodded. “Yes. But Alex isn’t home.”
Mary shrugged her shoulders. “I know. Can I come in?”
“Are you a friend of Alex’s?”
“Sort of.” Mary moved into the house without an invitation. “Nice,” she murmured, looking around.
“You’re Alex’s work colleague?” Jacob led her to the living area.
“No. I’m her ex-classmate. We went to high school together.”
“I see.” Jacob showed her the seat, and Mary took it without hesitation. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Oh, it’s Mary St. Clair.”
“Beautiful name,” Jacob commented.
“I know.”
“Do you want something to drink?”
“No, thank you. Look, Mr. Stewart, I’m here for a reason,” she began. “It’s about Alex.” With Jacob’s look of confusion, she continued. “I’m very concerned about her. Aren’t you? I mean, she’s just up and gone like that.”
“It’s only for a couple weeks.”
“A couple of weeks? But surely?”
“What are you concerned about? Alex will be back next week.”
“But I don’t follow. Why would Alex be back next week when she plans to stay away forever? I mean, she’s run off with a man who has no intention of marrying her, and she knows it.”
Jacob was confused. “But Alex is in New York for a conference.”
Mary laughed. “And you believe her? That she really is at this conference? A medical laboratory science conference in New York? I find that very hard to believe.”
“What are you implying?”
“That Alex has run off with a man. She’s secretly with him. She’s his mistress. Don’t you know that? He’s already married.”
Jacob clutched his chest. His vision started to blur. “She told us—”
“Mr. Stewart, are you okay?”
“I—”
“Mr. Stewart?” Mary watched as Jacob collapsed onto the floor. She rushed down to touch his pulse. She sighed with relief. He was still breathing. Then she heard a voice coming through from the front door.
“Honey? I’m home.” Mali appeared. “Oh God! What happened?”
“He collapsed,” Mary said. “I think he’s going to be okay. Look I have to go.”
Before Mali could ask her to stay and help or question her as to why she was there, Mary grabbed her handbag and rushed out the door.
* * * * *