Giving Up the Ghost (19 page)

"Along with several other people. A waste of time. But the autopsy will give us definitive
answers. And maybe we'll get lucky, and one of the items I brought to the lab will turn out to be the
murder weapon."

"Things are moving along, Darren."

"Are we still on for dinner?"

"We certainly are. Seven o'clock all right?"

"Fine. I'll bring the wine. Red or white?"

"White," she said, and hung up.

She put away the groceries, then dashed upstairs for a quick shower. When she came
downstairs, Cam called to her from the den.

"I can only talk for a minute." She leaned against the door jamb.

"What's happening with the investigation?"

"Nothing yet, though your brother's coming here, and..."

"And?" Cam prodded.

"They're exhuming the--er--your body to examine it for cause of death."

"Oh." Cam looked squeamish, as if he'd just eaten a mouse.

"Gotta go and start cooking," Gabbie said. "Darren's coming for dinner. I'll let you know
if he has any news."

"Don't worry, I'm fading fast. I have enough smarts to know when I'm not wanted."

When Darren arrived at five after seven, the table was set, the salad and couscous were
made, and the chicken breasts were warming in the oven. He planted a kiss on her cheek and
followed her into the kitchen.

"Roses!" she exclaimed with delight when she saw what he'd been hiding behind his
back.

"White wine, red roses." He handed both to her.

"I'll take care of them. Go on into the den. I've put out some appetizers."

Darren's eyebrows shot up. "Will I be having company?"

"Nope. Cam promised to keep away."

"That's good." He lowered his voice. "I hate to say it, but it feels creepy talking to him. I
mean, I know he's dead, and then suddenly he's there in ghost form, acting the same as always. I
can't decide if I should tell Roland."

"When's he arriving?"

"Early Thursday morning. He has meetings tomorrow and Wednesday he can't miss. I
told him Thursday's soon enough. He's damn glad I'm reopening the case. He claims the thought of
Cam falling to his death stuck in his craw from day one. But since I'd done the investigating, and old
Doc Bradley checked it out, he let it go."

"Don't be hard on yourself." She gave him a little push. "Go on. I'll join you in two
minutes."

Gabbie found a vase for the flowers and opened the wine. She filled two wine glasses
and carried them into the den. Darren was standing before the bookcase, riffling through pages of a
book.

"I hope you don't mind, but a team of county investigators are coming out tomorrow to
examine the cottage," he said. "I'll seal off this room when I leave, more for appearance's sake than
any practical purpose."

"Sure." She handed him a glass and moved to the couch. "I'll give you a key."

He sat down beside her. "I doubt they'll find anything, after so many people have
trampled through this place. And the ground out back is covered over with snow."

"Don't be negative," she chided. "You're doing everything you can."

"Eight months too late," he grumbled. "I could kick myself every time I remember how I
should have given the murder angle more consideration."

"You saw no sign of a struggle. No drag marks. And Cam was drunk."

He nodded. "Pissed to the gills. Still, he'd riled lots of people in town. I should have
insisted that the ME do an autopsy. I hate to think I was negligent because I didn't want Cam to have
been murdered."

"Is that what you thought at the time?" Gabbie said.

"No. From the looks of things, I really thought he'd fallen to his death."

"Then stop second-guessing and find out who murdered him."

They clinked glasses and sipped. Gabbie spread crabmeat dip on a cracker and offered it
to Darren.

He downed the hors d'oeuvre and grinned. "Mmm, delicious."

"Have another." She smiled as he polished that one off, too. "What's Roland like?"

"Well, growing up, we always called him Rolly because he's round, with the chubbiest
cheeks you've ever seen. When he turned eighteen, he asked--no, ordered us--to call him by his
proper name, Roland."

"And you did?"

Darren chewed on his lower lip as he considered her question. "The interesting thing is,
Cam and I called him Roland after that--can't tell you exactly why. He looks like a pushover, but
underneath his padding, Roland's tough as nails. The complete opposite of Cam. He goes excavating
in Africa, then comes back and handles himself like a political pro at the press conferences that
always follow."

"Oh," Gabbie said. "I'm impressed."

"You should be. Roland's experienced in raising funds for his trips and dealing with the
public. Today he raised holy hell with the powers-that-be and got them to agree to have the body
exhumed ASAP."

"Has he found anything among Cam's papers?"

"Not a clue."

"And you got nothing from Jack, Reese, Terry, or Don?"

"They all denied being in on a deal with Cam, and swore they hadn't seen him the day he
died." He shook his head. "They stuck to their stories, even when I spouted details about the
cigarette deal and when they were supposed to pick up their money."

He shook his head in admiration. "Dammit, they're good liars, every one of them."

"Did they account for where they were that afternoon?"

"Terry and Reese were at work, but neither has a witness to attest that he stayed at
work past five o'clock. Don and Jack were out and about. Don says he drove to a warehouse in
Riverhead for beauty salon supplies. Jack was making deliveries for the furniture store where he
occasionally works." Darren let out a snort of dissatisfaction. "None of them has what you'd call an
air-tight alibi."

"So," Gabbie said slowly, "any one or combination of the four could have done it. That
would account for your not seeing drag marks on the lawn."

"And I have nothing concrete that proves they all had a reason to come here that day."
He slapped his thigh in disgust. "I can't very well bring a ghost's sworn statement into a court of
law."

They stared glumly at each other. Gabbie regretted having brought up the subject.

She touched Darren's arm, felt the muscle respond to her. It gave her an amazing sense
of power. "Let's go and eat. Everything's ready."

"It's the best offer I've had all day."

Gabbie served their dinner, and was pleased that everything had turned out well. It was
almost a year since she'd taken the trouble to prepare a meal for anyone beside herself.

"You're a great cook," Darren said, and ate his last forkful of chicken.

"It's coming back to me," Gabbie quipped. "But I suppose cooking's something you never
forget how to do. Like riding a bicycle."

"And making love," Darren added.

Gabbie bowed her head so he wouldn't see the blush coloring her face and ears. But he
obviously knew she felt uncomfortable, because he changed the subject.

"How did you spend the afternoon?"

"I went to the mall, and had the misfortune of running into Barrett Connelly and Todd
Ross. They were cocky enough to taunt me by making allusions to the bomb scare."

"They were gloating for getting off scot free. We questioned each of them separately in
the presence of his lawyer. They had their story down pat. Yes, they'd been to the bagel shop
earlier, but then they went to Ross's house. No, they couldn't prove it since no one was home
then."

"There must have been someone at the bagel shop who saw them. What about the
owners?"

"Business was slow just then, so the husband went into the back room while the wife
ran an errand. The public phone's in the vestibule entrance, not visible from the back room. Clever
of them to call from there instead of from one of their cell phones."

Gabbie was about to tell him of the boys' reaction to her lie that someone had seen
them, when Darren's cell phone rang. He gave her an apologetic smile and answered it.

"Oh, no! Christ, is he all right?"

He listened another minute. "Okay. Smart thinking. Did you call Pete?"

Gabbie's eyes widened as the sound of hysteria came through the phone.

"Okay, Lionel, calm down. She'd have found out sooner or later. Sooner's better. Sonia
would turn on you like a tiger if you hadn't called her. Just keep on trying Pete and that bar he goes
to. I'm leaving for the hospital now." He looked down at his watch. "Be there in fifteen
minutes."

Gabbie stared at him. "What happened? Don't tell me--"

"Charlie Russell's been beaten up real bad. He's in the emergency room at MidSuffolk
Hospital with two broken ribs. They're watching him for a concussion."

"Who did it?"

"Charlie's not saying, but we can guess, can't we?"

Gabbie's hands flew to her mouth. "My God! It's all my fault! I said something stupid to
those monsters, and they went after Charlie."

Darren eyed her curiously. "What did you say, Gabbie?"

Her breath came in gasps. "I told them someone saw them calling from the bagel shop. I
know it was dumb, but they were acting so damn cocky and arrogant. I couldn't bear to let them
think they could keep on getting away with what they've been doing. I made it up, only I saw
immediately I'd touched a raw nerve."

He was on the verge of asking her another question, when he stopped himself. "We'll
talk tomorrow. I gotta go. Sonia's carrying on at the hospital, yelling it's unsafe for her nephew to
live in this town. And you know what? I don't blame her."

His lips brushed hers. "Don't let anyone in, and I mean anyone. There's a murderer out
there."

"And two loose cannons."

Darren grimaced. "Right, but now we have ourselves a witness."

Gabbie cleared the table and put away the leftover food in record time. The news
about Charlie had left her much too agitated to settle down. She went into the den and threw herself
onto the couch. "Cam! Can you hear me?"

No answer. She tried a few more times, and then gave up. The poor fellow was proving
true to his word and had left for the night. On impulse, she sat down at the desk and opened
drawers. Hired workers had packed up Cam's papers and other possessions and sent them to
Roland, but surely something must have been left behind. Some clue that could lead them to the
murderer.

She found it disturbing that Reese, Don, Jack, and Terry had all lied to Darren about
their involvement in the cigarette deal. They each had a reason for being at the cottage that
afternoon. Gabbie found it impossible to believe that none of them had come by to pick up his share
of the money. Unless the man who killed Cam came first, and by the time the others put in an
appearance, both Cam and the money were nowhere to be found.

Maybe the night she'd met them at Logan's they were really grumbling about Cam's
cheating them a second time. Only they couldn't say so in public, so they pretended they were angry
about the land deal. And of course the murderer or murderers joined in, pretending to be angry,
too.

The various complications and possibilities spun around in her head as she examined
each drawer with care. As far as she could tell, the desk had no secrets to reveal. Best to leave that
type of detective work to the investigative team that was coming tomorrow. Too fidgety to sit home
alone, she decided to go to Logan's.

Despite the snow, the parking lot was full of cars as usual. Gabbie opened the door to the
bar and was hit by a blast of beery warm air and the buzz of conversation. A suspenseful excitement
pulsated as sentence fragments and names swirled around in the dim light.

"Hey, Gabbie," Don called. "Come join your friends."

My friends? She brightened when she saw Tessa at the table, along with Terry, Reese,
Jack, and Adele. Terry got up to get her a chair, and the others moved closer to one another to make
room for her. These are my friends--or rather my acquaintances--even though one of them is
probably a murderer.

"Stella Artois?" Mike called to her.

"Sure," she said.

Tessa greeted her. "What must you think of us, with these awful incidents happening in
Chrissom Harbor?"

"They keep on coming, one after another."

"Ever since Gabbie arrived in town," Jack said.

"Now that's not true, and you know it," Reese said. "Cam was killed last spring, and
those two hoodlums have been growing worse each day."

Adele made a clucking sound. "My heart's breaking for poor Charlie Russell. Beat up and
in the ER. Someone should put those two in jail and throw away the key."

Gabbie turned to the plump, motherly woman. "How did you hear about Charlie?"

Jack answered for his wife. "Lionel called here looking for Pete. Pete came by, not ten
minutes ago, and Mike told him to go to the hospital."

Sick as she was about Charlie, Gabbie was determined to redirect the conversation to
Cam. "Jack tells me Roland's coming to Chrissom Harbor."

Reese nudged Terry. "I wonder if they'll let him watch the autopsy. Rolly's used to
looking at old bones."

"Except these bones still have some meat on them."

Tessa glared from one to the other. "Enough already! Show some respect for the
dead."

Her husband wore a pained expression. "Honey, except for you, no one at this table
gives two hoots that Cam is gone. Our lives are nice and peaceful since he died."

"And boring." Adele stared into her lap as her round, plain face turned a beet red.

No question about it. Adele had been a Cam fan.

Jack frowned at his wife, and turned to the others. "The way I see it, they're digging him
up for nothing. Darren doesn't have one lousy clue that points to murder. That's why he's
questioning us all over again." He shrugged his hefty shoulders. "It's a waste of time and effort. If it
was murder--and I'm not saying it was--the trail's gone cold."

"I'm surprised he let Jill skip town."