The Widower Murders

Chapter 10 - Dinner and Nerves

By the time Samantha arrived I'd spent nearly two hours exploring what had become of Price Estate.  Rather than be postponed and insisting dinner began an hour later, she’d called ahead and informed Jarvis of a work related emergency.  Something about questions and ideas she wanted my take on before submitting her next article.  Without reservation I readily agreed.  I had known for quite some time of Samantha's job as a freelance reporter and if there was anything I could do to help her I would.  Besides.  For the past year or so she had frequently wrote articles in the Courier about the Widower Murders, pieces I routinely sought as I figured they could potentially lead to my father's killer.  They alone rendered Samantha a dinner guest I didn’t mind waiting for.

So long had it been since I'd worn a suit I'd almost forgotten how much I despised formal evening attire.  Instituted by my great-grandfather who I was named after, the moment I saw Samantha I finally understood why it had become such a Price family tradition.  In every sense she was the epitome of elegance.  Her attractiveness and charismatic demeanor instantly commanded my attention.  Every bit as sophisticated as Jarvis had led me to believe, I could already foresee how difficult it would be to focus on anything aside from her.  In a single word she was beautiful.

Just off the main dining hall we gathered in the smaller room my family had used most often.  At a table meant for four, two plates and silverware eerily marked the place where my parents had sat.  Samantha was ushered to the chair that had been my mother's as I sheepishly settled into my father's.  Not particularly comfortable with the obvious, though I felt compelled to ask Jarvis to dine with us I knew he wouldn't.  As much as I had insisted on not being treated like a child, from now on we both understood there would be no semblance of familiarity in the presence of others. 

Jarvis picked up a bottle of Dom Pérignon and filled the glasses before us. "Master Fence, this is my niece. Sam Patterson. Whom we've spoken of on many occasions."

"Hello, Sam," I curtailed what felt to be an unnecessary introduction.

Samantha smiled and returned my salutation.

"Sam," Jarvis continued, topping off the last of the glasses. "This is Mr. Fence Price. My employer whom I've told you so much about."

Samantha extended a hand across the table. "Please to meet you, Mr. Price."

At a lost about what to do, I shot a deafening glance in Jarvis’ direction.  Giving me a firm look of his own, Jarvis sat the bottle of wine on the table, grabbed my hand and placed Samantha's in mine.  "Now please do excuse me as I attended to the meal I have especially prepared for the two of you," he explained before exiting the room.

For the first time in my adult life I was alone with a beautiful woman and no idea of what to do next.  But thankfully, before I could make a complete fool of myself, Samantha snatched away her hand, grabbed and then guzzled down the contents of both glasses.  "God," she exclaimed once she'd finished.  "You cannot imagine how nervous I am.  You would think after all the interviews and people I've met, this would be a piece of cake."

Despite my own state of nervousness I knew this wasn't the time to fall back into the silence I'd maintained while at The Valley so I picked up the wine, poured two more glasses and then proceeded to take a humongous swig directly from the bottle.

"No, no, no, Mr. Price.  What are you doing?" Samantha laughed, half-heartedly attempting to stop me.   "My uncle's gonna kill me."

Blam! I slammed the bottle to the table and loosed a loud bellowing belch.  "Urrrrp!  Please," I replied pushing one of the glasses in front of her.  "Call me Fence, Sam.  And for the record.  I really don't think you have to worry about Jarvis subjecting me to another murder investigation."