The Final Victim(88)

"I'm going to ask you a straightforward question, Remington." Williamson leans forward, his voice menacingly low, "And I want a straightforward answer. Got it?"

Gib nods, holding his breath, reminding himself that this whole nightmarish situation is getting blown out of proportion.

Seriously, it's not like I've been accused of murder.

But Williamson's next words make quick wreckage of that particular thought, hitting Gib like a cyclone.

"Where were you on the night your grandfather died?"

Royce sighs, watching Charlotte once again look at the empty spot on the mantel, almost as though she expects the missing radio to have miraculously materialized there.

"Charlotte, there has to be a logical explanation for this," he says gently, and not for the first time since he woke from a sound sleep to find her moving the couch to search behind it.

"I know there is."

He can't help but say, "I promise that the house being haunted by your grandfather's ghost isn't it."

"I know it sounds cra2y…" She smiles sheepishly, turning away from the mantel to return to his bedside. "It's just that when it wasn't working, I thought maybe it 1 was because Grandaddy's spirit did something to it."

"Which makes a whole lot of sense." He returns her smile to show that he's teasing.

"Royce, don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing, honey. I'm just trying to convince you that somebody-a human being in this house-must have moved the radio. Or taken it."

"Who would possibly do that?"

"Think about it, Charlotte. Who do you think?"

She shrugs. "I've already checked with Nydia and Aimee. I know Lianna couldn't have had anything to do with it…" She gives a purposeful nod, and he can tell she hasn't let go of his earlier insinuation about the pain medication.

This probably isn't a good time for him to mention that he's noticed the supply seems to be dwindling. He'll bring it up later, when she isn't as distracted.

'The only other person in this house is Aunt Jeanne," Charlotte points out, "and unless she told her nurse to come down and grab it, she's out of the question."

"Maybe she did just that."

There's a long pause.

"Why would she?"

Why? Because she's a nutcase, is what he wants to say.

But he opts for the more sensitive, "You know she's not exactly of sound mind. Why does she do or say anything?"

Charlotte shrugs again. "I'll ask her nurse tomorrow. She doesn't come on Sundays, and there's no use asking Aunt Jeanne directly."

"I don't think that matters," Royce says meaningfully.

His wife raises a brow. "Why?" 'Think about it, Charlotte. You forgot about one other person who's been in this house."

"Who? Phyllida?"

"Bingo."

"You think she took the radio? Why would she do that?"

Now he shrugs. "Out of spite? Because she knows that of everything in this house, it had the most sentimental value to you?"

The light dawns blatantly on Charlotte's face… along with unmistakable outrage. "You're right. I bet she did take it. I can't believe that. What should I do?"

"Write it off as a loss, and good riddance to your cousin?"

"No. I'm not going to just drop it." She looks at her watch. "It's still too early to call California. But believe me, as soon as it's a reasonable hour, I'm going to get ahold of her and ask her about it."

Having finally worked up her nerve to call the telephone number she had committed to memory in her misguided youth, Mimi is immediately discouraged when a recorded voice greets the call. "We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this reading in error, please check the area code and the number and try your call again."

All right, so maybe her memory isn't fail-proof.

Still, she gives the memorized number another try, pressing the buttons more slowly. After all, it's not as though her hands weren't shaking like crazy when she dialed the first time, nor was she taking her time.

Once her mind was made up to take the plunge and make the call to Oakgate, she couldn't connect fast enough.

But she's going to have to wait a little longer.

Once again, the voice informs her that the number isn't in service.

She hesitates only briefly before calling directory assistance. They'll have to come up with the extra fifty cents, or whatever it costs, when the bill comes next month. This is important…

Life or death, she thinks, brooding as she waits to bypass the automated response.

When the operator comes on the line, Mimi requests the number for the Remingtons, only to be informed that it's unlisted.

Plunking the phone back into its cradle, she paces across the kitchen to the doorway and peeks into the next room.

Jed is still sound asleep on the couch, courtesy of the prescription painkillers he finally agreed to take during the day, but only after she showed him that he still had plenty to spare.

Mimi's mother, God bless her, kept Cameron overnight again and promised to bring him home tomorrow morning, first thing. Today, she insisted on having him stay for church and a little picnic at the playground.