“And Angie, your job is also secured.”
“Thank you.” Angie sighed.
“What did the police say?” Jillian asked.
“The sergeant said that he is waiting on the autopsy results before he can determine if someone did harm to Harvey or whether he did it to himself. They guessed that it was some sort of poison,” Ilsa said as she shifted from one foot to another. “Until we know exactly what it was, I would recommend cleaning out the kitchen and not using anything that’s been opened.”
“Are you serious?” Angie blurted out. “Someone could have tried to poison all of us?”
“Doubtful, but we don’t know yet,” Ilsa said. “The police have released the site, but I wouldn’t take any chances.”
“I’ll clean out the kitchen tomorrow,” Jillian said.
“Good,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything. Let’s say we all meet here on Tuesday at ten. We’ll go over the books and the event schedule for the next quarter.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jillian said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Before I leave, Jillian, I want to tell you that I think you did a wonderful job with this display. It highlights my collection superbly, especially the blood goblet. You’ve got an eye for art,” she said as she pointed to the glassware and the stoneware below it.
Jillian looked up at the blood goblet seeing it for the first time today. There was moisture on the glass and around the stem. It looked like it had been washed and put away damp. “That’s odd. That’s not how we left it last night,” she mused.
“I love that goblet,” Ilsa said. “It’s irresistible to a specific type of man—the greedy and dishonest sort who see its legend as a challenge. It has been useful to me through the years. My husband, Ira, was drawn to it. He couldn’t resist seeing if the legend were true. It was true—but not for him.”
Jillian stared at her new boss. What was she suggesting?
“And now, it’s worked its magic again, this time for both of us,” Ilsa continued, smiling. “But you might want to wipe up that goblet and shelf yourself, and burn the rag. Harvey left a mess everywhere last night.”