Giving Up the Ghost (16 page)

He gave a sigh of exasperation. "What about the telephone call?"

"Someone called Wednesday night and said in a disguised voice that Cam's death was an
accident. I should stop asking questions or I might fall and break my neck, too."

"Wednesday night? Why didn't you call and tell me about it then?"

"I--so many things have been happening, I didn't get a chance."

"For God's sake, Gabbie! He's given you two warnings. I want you to take this seriously.
Stop talking about Cam to every jerk in town."

"That's exactly what I told her." Cam sounded smug.

Gabbie glared from one to the other, ready to let loose a retort, but Darren's pained
expression stopped her. The poor guy had just gotten the shock of a lifetime, and now he was
worried she might get bumped off next.

He managed to offer her a thin smile. "Come down to the station tomorrow, and I'll take
your prints. Maybe we'll be lucky and lift the prints of whoever sent the note."

"Do you agree it was murder?" she said.

"I agree there's a strong possibility. I can start questioning everyone connected to Cam
again, but there's no way I can get an order to exhume the body without some solid piece of
evidence pointing to murder."

"Too bad there's no way to link the murderer to the missing money," Gabbie said.

Darren looked balefully at Cam. "What missing money? How much?"

"Half a mil."

Darren stared, open-mouthed. "In cash?"

"Of course in cash."

"From what crooked deal? You swore up and down you wouldn't pull anything stupid
again."

Cam turned up his palms. "It was nothing--a piece of cake that fell into my lap. I'd have
been crazy to have said no. The cash was the extra cushion I needed to start over again. Start it
right, wherever I decided to go. Besides..."

"Besides what?" Darren demanded.

"Nothing," Cam said.

"What was it this time? A pyramid scheme? Fake stocks? Bogus investments?"

"What does it matter? The money's gone." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Not that I need it
now."

"Where were you keeping it?"

Cam pointed to the desk. "In the bottom drawer." He smiled "Neat piles of brand-new
hundred dollar bills."

Darren whistled. "How were you planning to get it out of the country?"

Cam grinned. "Hey, only some of it was mine. All right, most of it. You saw my plane
tickets. I was flying down to Atlanta. Even though Roland's away half the time, I preferred to bank
down there. The next day I was leaving for Nice."

"You still haven't told me the nature of your little enterprise. Or who was in on it with
you."

Cam sighed heavily. "Some guy I knew asked me to move a load of cigarettes. No taxes.
Hey, don't give me that look. Everyone comes out ahead except Uncle Sam. No big deal. It happens
every day of the week."

"The big deal is that someone murdered you, probably for the money. Who were your
little helpers this time?"

Cam turned to gaze out the window. "No one you know."

"Oh, yeah?" Darren laughed. "You never could lie to me."

"I'm no informer, Darren. The guys involved had no reason to bump me off. They were
coming here around five-thirty to be paid off."

"Who, Cam? I want names."

Cam squirmed. "I'll tell you, but only if you promise not to go after them."

"Go after them!" Darren slammed his hand against his forehead. "Are you nuts? One
or any combination of your partners in crime might have killed you for the money. Are you so
stupid you can't see what's obvious?"

"I don't believe it. They were my pals, every one of them."

Gabbie let out a sigh of exasperation. "Tell him, Cam, or we're leaving right now." She
turned to Darren. "He pulls this every time I suggest someone as a possible suspect. Of course the
guilty person's someone he knew. You'd think he really doesn't want to find out."

Darren ran his knuckles up and down her arm. "Weird as it sounds, I understand what
he's going through. I would hate like hell to learn that someone I thought was a friend did me
in."

He turned to Cam. "All right. Start naming names."

Cam grimaced. "Reese, Don, Jack, and Terry."

Darren burst out laughing. "How about that? The gang of four. I thought they were
furious with you because of the land sale."

"That's why I brought them in on this, to show good faith. I wanted to make up for what
they considered their big loss. It was an easy forty thousand to throw their way."

"Forty thousand each?"

Cam laughed. "Are you kidding? Ten for each of them. A bit more for Jack, since we used
his truck."

Darren calculated, and then shook his head. "Leaving over four hundred fifty thousand
bucks for you! You devil, Cam!"

"So you see why it can't be any one of them."

Gabbie glared at him. "Don't be stupid. Of course it could. Forgetting the money angle
for a minute, Don hates you because you slept with Tessa, and Terry thinks you broke up his
marriage."

"And Reese resents you because of the way you treated Jill," Darren added. "He's really
fond of her."

"So am I," Cam said mournfully. "What a fool I was not to take her with me. If I'd said
yes, I never would have gotten drunk and careless."

For the first time, Gabbie realized how angry he was for having let himself become an
easy victim. He was used to running the show, not being someone's dupe. Cam had been a flawed,
amoral human being. He'd used people and pulled all sorts of illegal stunts. Despite all that, she was
more determined than ever to find his murderer and let him go to his rest. "We'll find out who it
was," she said. "I promise."

She saw that Darren was too deep in thought to comment. Finally, he said, "No one's
gone on a spending spree, at least that I've noticed. Nothing obvious like buying a home in Florida
or taking a trip to the Far East."

"You could check their safely deposit boxes," Gabbie suggested.

"Thanks for the lead," Darren said. When he saw her ears redden, he took her hand.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to come off sarcastic."

Gabbie recoiled. "I forgot I was talking to the police chief, who has every technical
device at his disposal."

Though he had to know this was a zinger for having checked out her husband, Darren
stood his ground. "Gabbie, I don't want to come off like some Neanderthal, but this isn't a joint
enterprise. You did your part, bringing me here so I could talk to Cam. Leave the rest to me and my
deputy."

Cam roared with laughter. "Lionel Daggett? That nincompoop couldn't find his shoes if
they weren't on his feet. And you still need to show good cause to have the D. A. reopen my
case."

Darren looked around the den. "The murder took place in this room. Since someone
struck the back of your head, there's a good chance the weapon's still here. Please bring me some
plastic bags, Gabbie, the largest you have."

"But the room's been cleaned. I've been using it, touching things."

"She's right," Cam agreed. "Any evidence you gather will be considered tainted."

"But if the lab finds traces of your blood or hairs on a possible weapon, the D.A. will be
more willing to open up the case."

"True."

Darren's eyes shone with excitement. "And Roland's been back in the country three
weeks now. Maybe he'll squawk and insist that they treat your death as a murder."

Cam pointed to the phone. "Call him. Tell him anything you like, and he'll back you to the
hilt."

"I know he will."

"His cell phone number's on a post-it sticking to the side of the top drawer."

Darren opened the desk drawer and whistled. "Damned if it isn't." He picked up the
telephone and dialed.

* * * *

Gabbie awoke early the next morning. She caught a glimpse of the overcast sky, and
snuggled under her quilt. After breakfast, she'd go to the police station and have her fingerprints
taken. Then she'd enjoy her day of solitude. Sleet or snow was in the forecast, perfect weather to
stay home and read and do some school work. For dinner, she'd order in a pizza, and finish off the
entire pie by herself.

She envisioned herself reposing languidly in the den lounge chair and sighed.
Technically, it was her den, and she had every right to her privacy, but the reality was that Cam
might appear at any moment. She gritted her teeth. After the tumultuous events of last night, she
needed a day of peace and quiet. As much as she wanted to help Cam, she resented how he and his
murder were taking over her life.

Last night Darren had bagged various items, among them the statue of the Roman
soldier and the wall barometer. He was about to seal off the den to avoid further contamination, but
postponed doing so when Cam insisted it was the only room where he could manifest, and he might
have to communicate with Gabbie.

Darren and Cam had remained deeply engrossed in conversation, and when Gabbie
announced she was going to bed, they barely responded to her "Good night." Some date that turned
out to be.

She chided herself for being silly, and admitted that Darren's new priority to solve
Cam's murder was a blessing in disguise. It would keep them both too busy to spare more than an
occasional thought for each other. That kiss at the side of the road was proof positive of their strong
mutual attraction, an attraction that could lead to a hot and heavy romance. And she was
determined not to get involved with anyone right now, including Darren Rollins.

In the morning light, Cam's presence struck her as a different sort of problem. As much
as he had her sympathy and she was willing to help him, his constant presence was becoming an
intrusion. She needed long stretches of solitude to recuperate from her divorce and the horrendous
days in court.

She was indulging in a second cup of coffee, when he called to her. Reluctantly, she went
into the living room and faced him across the hall.

"Good morning, Gabbie," he said cheerily. "What I wouldn't give to taste a cup of
java."

She groaned. "Not now, Cam."

"If you'll come in the den for ten minutes, I promise to disappear for the rest of the
day."

"Oh, all right." There was no point in refusing. He'd only keep after her until she gave
in.

She perched on the edge of the desk while Cam sat in the lounger. Realizing he was
troubled, she curbed her impatience.

"Darren's going to start questioning people today. I'm just wondering... Do you think
there's a chance he'll find out anything new? I doubt if anyone will remember what he or she was
doing eight months ago."

"He'll learn plenty," she said, with more optimism than she felt. "Now Darren knows you
were expecting Reese, Terry, Jack, and Don that afternoon. They have plenty of explaining to
do."

"I can't believe any of those guys offed me."

"That last day when you were going to pay them their share, did you expect all four to
show up here together?"

"Are you kidding? I didn't set up appointments, just told them to stop by for their money
between five-thirty and six-fifteen. No one came, as far as I know."

"So, it's possible the four of them attacked you, or one came early and grabbed all the
booty."

"Or it was someone else entirely," Cam said. "You and Darren will find out what
happened."

"Thanks for not throwing me off the case like your pal tried to do last night."

"Darren's just looking after you. He likes you, Gabbie. I can tell."

She turned her head so he couldn't see her blush. "Time's up. I have to go to the police
station."

"No problem. See you later," he said and disappeared.

After putting the kitchen in order, Gabbie got dressed and headed for the police
station.

The small building was empty, except for Lionel Daggett, who was waiting for her at the
desk. He was a tall, gangly young man with blue eyes that moved constantly yet never seemed to
focus on anything. She had to agree with Cam that he didn't appear too bright. But he knew how to
go about taking fingerprints.

"That's real exciting news, that Cameron Leeds was murdered," he said as he
worked.

"Yes," Gabbie said.

"Darren's not here."

"I can see that."

He didn't seem to notice her sarcasm. "He's going to find Cam's murderer, Ms.
Meyerson. First thing this morning, he brought those items over to the lab. Now he's out
interrogating witnesses."

"And suspects, too, I hope."

Lionel winked. "Well, sure, but we don't tell them they're suspects right off the
bat."

Gabbie drove home through empty streets washed clean by a cold, stinging rain. She
settled down in the den with her school books and the latest Elizabeth George, which she'd brought
with her to Long Island. Cam was true to his word and stayed away. Soon she was mid-deep in her
copy of The Great Gatsby, jotting down ideas for discussion in her plan book as quickly as they
presented themselves. When hunger pains assailed her. she was surprised to see it was almost two
in the afternoon.

She had a pot of tomato and rice soup simmering on the range, when the doorbell
rang.

Darren! He's come to tell me what he's found out so far. She flung open the door and
faced Jill, dressed in a sheepskin jacket and wool hat. Jill must have read the disappointment in her
face because her greeting quickly turned into an apology.

"I'm sorry, Gabbie. I didn't mean to disturb you, but I had to stop by before I left town.
I'm going away, and I need to talk to you about Theo..." A flood of tears put an end to her
explanation.

Gabbie feared the biting wind would freeze them as they ran down her face. She took
Jill's arm. "Come inside."

In the kitchen, she said, "Want some soup? I've plenty for both of us."

Instead of answering, Jill dropped into a chair and wept into her hands. "He has
someone he's been dating like he's a single man. And all these months I've been trying to, trying
to--" Gasps and wails prevented her from pouring out the rest of her anguish.