Poisoned by Gilt (19 page)

several more anecdotes about Richard, both as a teacher

and as a sounding board for Sullivan's environmentally

minded designs. He then said, "Now that some time's

gone by, I'm ready and able to work with Burke again."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"Okay . . . but why do you want to? Are you starting to

doubt his guilt?"

"Not really. But I'll be better able to keep tabs on him

when I'm part of his inner circle."

"You're going to work for the person you think killed

your friend? Do you really think that's wise?"

He shrugged. "I can handle it." He checked the display on his cell phone. "Jeez. Look at the time!"

I glanced at my watch and silently agreed that it was

much later than I'd have guessed. We hurried back to the

van. As he moved toward me, I thought he was just going

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to unlock my door, but to my total surprise, he took me in

his arms and kissed me tenderly. As our embrace ended

reluctantly, he whispered, "Thank you," then opened the

door for me.

My head was spinning, but as Sullivan drove us toward

the office, I remembered reading an article in a women's

magazine, addressing what they'd termed "funeral passion." Apparently, attending funerals encourages us to

confront our own mortality, thereby inspiring false feelings of passion.

I had to stop reading women's magazines.

As we neared the office, Sullivan said he had something to do, and dropped me off at my van. Although I

didn't call him on it, judging by his caginess, his "something to do" had to be with Ms. Hands-on. Just like that,

my mood did one of its flip-flops. I avoided looking at

him as I got out of his van and into mine.

Feeling miserable, I drove to M.H. Custom Furniture

and went into Matthew's store. He was there alone. I

forced a smile. "Hi, Matthew."

He smirked at me. "Well, well. Erin Gilbert. This is a

surprise. Fraternizing with the enemy?"

"I don't consider you a personal enemy."

"Just an enemy of the environment."

I shrugged at the element of truth in that statement.

He grinned. "You're going to love the article in tomorrow's paper, about how I'm giving a discount to all cardcarrying members of Consumers for Common Sense."

"I heard about that group yesterday, for the first time. I

met the woman who founded it, in fact."

"Asia McClure," he said with a nod. "She's the one

who suggested the discount."

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"What's this 'common sense' that they've apparently

got and the rest of us lack?"

"We object to environmental extremists. We're for sensible fair exchange on the open market. We don't want

the government or anyone else telling us what we should

or should not buy."

"Isn't it self-defeating for any business owner in

Crestview to actively come out against conservation?"

"I'm not against conservation. Just against this notion

that we've got to criminalize selling products made from

rare and exotic materials. It's basic supply and demand.

When the supply is low, the demand and the price go up.

Nobody is ever banned from selling antiques, or rare

coins."

"It's not the same thing. One's a fixed entity. The other

is trying to preserve diminishing resources."

"Oh, we'll have wiped the human race off the planet

long before anyone will notice or care that the mahogany

trees are gone, too. Anyway, what brings you to my offensive little corner of the world? Other than to debate

global policies, I mean."

"As it happens, I'm on a mission from one of my

clients. Burke Stratton."

"Mr. Green Machine himself? That's ironic."

"There's a corner desk you make that would be perfect

for him. Provided you use a zero-off-gassing finish on it,

of course."

"Of course," he replied. "So Gilbert and Sullivan isn't

boycotting my company?"

"Not yet."

"Glad to hear it." He grinned. "I'm grateful for your

hypocrisy."

"Oh, from everything I've read you're in complete

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compliance with the trade laws. You're simply trying to

change them through legal means. Am I giving you too

much credit?"

"No, that's absolutely true."

"You're sure? Because it's not too late for me to boycott

you."

He held up his palms and gave me a sincere-looking

smile. "Honest, Erin. I might not be the planet's best steward, but I'm nowhere near its worst, and I never will be."

"That's nice to hear, Matthew. For one thing, this sale

will be contingent on your practices remaining true to

the tests. If Burke discovers you are, in fact, violating import agreements, he's going to demand a refund."

"I can't see that happening anytime soon," he said

cryptically.

My cell phone rang. It was Sullivan. I excused myself

and walked to the far side of the store to answer quietly.

"I'm at Burke's. You'd better come out here right

away," Steve said.

So he wasn't with Jennifer Hands-on Fairfax. Maybe

I'd jumped to conclusions. Maybe he wasn't seeing her,

after all. Part of me wanted to leap for joy, but the somberness in his voice kept me grounded. "What's wrong?"

"I know why Richard disqualified Burke." Before offering any additional explanation, he hung up.

I finished placing my order with Matthew and left.

Some fifteen or twenty minutes later, Sullivan was waiting for me in his van when I pulled into Burke's driveway.

"Is Burke here?"

He shook his head. "The garage is empty. That's the

first thing I checked."

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"You're here by yourself?"

He spread his arms. "It was the only way I could search

for evidence in private."

"Evidence that he was cheating on the contest, or that

he killed Richard?"

"Could be both."

Sullivan walked me down along the small creek that

formed the water source for the pond. He pointed at the

ground. "Look carefully along the underbrush."

At first I didn't see anything, but when I told him that,

he said, "Look harder."

"Uh-oh." I stared in disbelief. "Are those power cables?"

"Yep. I traced them back. They lead from Asia's to

Burke's property. Burke has been siphoning power from

Asia McClure. His home isn't truly self-sustaining, after

all."

I stared at the cable, still not quite believing my eyes.

It was impossible to believe that nobody had noticed

this--that Sullivan and I hadn't noticed it--during the

full six months and more since Burke had first entered

the Earth Love contest. Finally, I muttered, "This is

just . . . unbelievable."

"It's what Richard must have meant when he talked

about what our client was 'really doing.' Let's face it,

Gilbert. Burke has a double motive for killing Richard."

"You think he would have killed Richard just to save

himself from getting booted out of this contest?"

"By the time you consider their past relationship, yes."

"According to Burke, he was trying to resolve their

problems."

"He was lying."

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"How do you know? Did you find anything in his

notes about their troubles?"

"No, I didn't. But I knew Richard. He didn't pull all

this out of a hat. If he complained about someone, that

person had a problem. Period. So Burke did something to

him."

"Or maybe Richard never forgave Burke for the vile

things that he said when his son died!"

"I just can't believe that," Sullivan said. "I'm reporting

this to Earth Love."

"Absolutely. But maybe there's another explanation.

Maybe he wasn't siphoning power with the cable, but

rather--"

A twig snapped behind us. I turned quickly. Burke was

standing there, glowering at us. "What cable?" he demanded. "What are you talking about?"

I felt more than saw Sullivan tense up, and I knew that

he was inwardly seething at Burke's presence. "Sorry to

be sneaking around on your property, Burke," Sullivan

said, his voice clipped. I doubted Burke would detect the

source of his discomfiture, at least. "It's my doing, not

Erin's. I wanted the chance to double-check in privacy

whatever Richard Thayers had found on your property

that wasn't kosher."

"But I haven't done anything wrong!" Burke protested.

"What cable are you--"

He drew closer and looked at the ground by our feet.

He'd obviously spotted the black cable for himself.

"It's a power line from Asia's house to yours."

"It can't be!"

"Burke," Sullivan said, "this cable runs between your

and Asia's properties. It's located at the back corners of

both of your yards, where the power company is likeliest

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to have installed their power lines. It looks like it's a

splice, which taps into her power supply and feeds into

yours."

"But . . . I didn't put it there."

"Somebody did. And it's going to be really hard to believe that anyone other than you would have installed

and buried the cable without your knowledge."

"But . . . that's exactly what happened!" He gaped at

the coax cable, as if willing it to vanish. "Maybe Richard

set me up."

"He wouldn't have done that," Sullivan insisted. "He

wouldn't have any reason to do that. He'd already said he

was stepping down."

"Burke?" I interjected. "We're going to have to report

this to Walter Emory and see what he says about it."

"I'm being set up! If not by Richard, then by somebody! By Darren or Asia, maybe."

"That would have taken a lot of nerve," I said, "not to

mention electrical know-how."

"Asia's a major nutcase, but she's also a genius. And

Darren's held several jobs, including repairing computers for IBM. Either one of them could have done this."

"But they're both fanatics about watching out in the

neighborhood. Unless they were working in cahoots, one

would have caught the guilty other in the act."

"Or it was done at night, or when one of them was out

of town. In any case, there's no way I did this myself. So

go ahead and call Walter. I've got to find out who's doing

this to me!" He looked at us, wild-eyed, and grabbed his

head. "I'm being framed again!"

c h a p t e r
1 3

he three of us--Burke, Sullivan, and I--went inTside to talk things out. Sullivan was obviously

loath to admit that Burke's claims of his innocence were

very convincing, but at least he was attentive and cordial

toward our client. Sullivan got ahold of Walter Emory

and convinced him to meet us at Burke's house immediately. "It's time for Earth Love to hire a private investigator," Sullivan urged Walter over the phone. "Someone

who can test for fingerprints."

Burke said to me, "I'll have someone cover for me at

the lab," as he dialed a number on his cell phone.

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While we waited, Burke paced and fidgeted incessantly with his glasses, muttering that he couldn't believe

this was happening. He continued to offer various scenarios as to how someone could have gotten away with it. He

even suggested, "Maybe it was Margot Troy. I think she

still resents me for breaking up with her. I don't think her

ego could withstand my winning the contest right after

dumping her."

"Margot doesn't live anywhere near here," I replied.

"She couldn't have run those wires without being seen by

anyone at the three houses with views of the footpath."

"She could have easily done it with her boyfriend's

help, though," he fired back.

"You think Jeremy would have sabotaged a house of

his own design?" Sullivan asked.

He shrugged. "If he's nuts enough about his girlfriend.

Guys will do all sorts of crazy things for their ladies."

"Not that crazy," Sullivan retorted.

"The thing is, Jeremy and I have been butting heads

lately," Burke countered. "I got real concerned about my

basement after reading about Richard's lawsuit, and

Jeremy keeps trying to blow me off. What if he realized

he's backed the wrong horse? That my house is falling to

pieces, thanks to his faulty design? He could have decided to cut his losses . . . shift the blame for losing the

contest onto me by making it look like I was cheating,

and help his wealthy girlfriend to win."

Steve gaped at Burke for a moment, then shifted his

gaze to me, and I knew at once that Steve's certainty that

Burke was guilty had been shaken. Either Asia or Darren

was angry enough about Burke's windmill that one of

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test, and now Burke had just given us plausible motives

for Margot or Jeremy to frame him, as well.

"Discovering this cable might give you exactly what

you wanted," I said to Burke, patting him on the shoulder. "This is your chance to answer Richard's charges

against you."

Burke sighed. "Yeah. I guess that's one good thing to