Ghost on the Case (Bailey Ruth #8)(41)

I countered. “She didn’t know she was going to get a fake ransom call.”

A slight nod as my score increased. “Maybe she’d already decided to burgle the safe.”

“And she got a call demanding one hundred thousand in cash and Wilbur’s safe is mentioned? Lame, Sam. Besides the door was locked at nine p.m.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Who says?”

“The butler. Carl Ross checked the ground-floor doors. That door was shut and locked when he made his rounds at nine.”

Sam’s heavy face folded in a frown. Then he shrugged. “She had a key.”

There I was on safe ground. “She did not have a key to the house, neither to the front door nor to the study door. She told the caller she couldn’t get into the study, but the caller assured her the door to the study would be unlocked. I was with her and she went as instructed to the garden door of the study and it definitely wasn’t locked.”

There was silence. Sam rubbed the knuckles of one hand along the side of his five-o’clock shadow. I could hear the faint tick of the wall clock. I avoided looking triumphant. As Mama always told us, “A man won’t change his mind if you embarrass him.”

“Garden door locked at nine p.m.” His voice held a considering tone. “And Gilbert wasn’t at the party.”

“Do you have the guest list?”

He nodded, pushed up from the couch. In a moment he was back with a folder. He handed it to me as he sat down, shook his head. “A hundred and five guests. Catering crew of nine.”

“Only seven names matter.” I opened the folder, found a pen in my cardigan jacket. Heaven provides. It took me only a moment to scan and check seven names. I returned the sheets.

He took a quick look. “You’re still singing the same song.”

“Who knew Susan could open the safe? These seven.”

“I’ve looked at them.”

I was surprised.

“Gilbert is heavy odds guilty, but I do my job. Per your intelligence, I checked out all seven. The disgruntled mistress. The pretty young thing who charmed herself into his will. The son who will now be Adelaide’s richest citizen. The laid-back stepson who can buy a lot of fancy golf clubs and maybe never show up at the office. The vice president who has a great idea but Wilbur said no. In that regard, we have to wonder if the idea for a SIMPLE Car might be considered a Fitch work product and not belong to Alan Douglas. The old football hero who might be on the outs with his boss. The lawyer who will rack up huge fees as he settles one of the biggest estates in Adelaide’s history.”

“Sam, you’re wonderful.” I meant the compliment sincerely.

“Gilbert’s not home free,” he said firmly, “but maybe she’s halfway between second and third. I had another visitor just before you came. Judy Weitz has a linear mind, and she says it doesn’t add up for Gilbert to be the perp. Too many holes. A fake kidnapping unconnected to a murder is just a bridge too far. Judy believes the hoax was set up to put Gilbert on the spot. Judy says it’s nuts to think Gilbert was at the house twice. She also says if Gilbert hid the coins, intending to keep them, she would also have kept the box of cash. Plus she says her brother went to school with Gilbert and she was valedictorian of her class and only a terminally stupid thief would have hidden the coins beneath that tub in the garden knowing, if she killed Fitch, that she would be a suspect and her house and yard would be searched when the items from the safe were missed. Finally, Judy says it’s obvious the coins were planted and the only person who could have planted them was Fitch’s murderer.”

The stress from the day melted away. An honest police chief and a good detective weren’t closing the book yet.

“And,” his deep voice continued, “to put a little whipping cream on your sundae—”

Sam had good ideas. I added a sundae to my soon-to-be order at Lulu’s.

“—Ben Fitch called a few minutes ago, said he talked to Susan and she explained everything about the ransom call and he’s sure she was set up by someone to take the fall. He wanted me to know he’d get a private detective on the case ASAP if the police didn’t do a complete investigation. He said Susan has a private eye from Dallas looking around.” His gaze was steady. “A redhead. Name of G. Latham.”

I smiled serenely.

“Private eyes who use fake cop IDs can get in a heap of trouble.”

“Fancy that,” I observed.

“Shameless,” he growled. “Back to Fitch, he wanted to know if we’d canvassed the neighbors about anyone skulking in her yard around one thirty in the morning to hide the coins.”

“So tomorrow you’ll get the prints and maybe DNA from the Fitch house and talk to Susan’s neighbors.”

“And try to get Neva to back off an immediate arrest.”

I beamed at him.

He shook his head. “The odds are still good Gilbert’s guilty. But I’ll keep looking.”

? ? ?

I enjoyed every bit of my celebratory dinner at Lulu’s, and the cherry atop the sundae was a tart delight. I felt nostalgic. I love Adelaide. It is different now than it was in my day but still the same kind of people, a waitress who called me hon and moved with skill and energy, fellow diners relaxing after a busy day of work. Soon I would climb aboard the Rescue Express, my mission done. But I wasn’t through quite yet.