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Sam waited until he and Goddard were out in the corridor before saying anything more. “I want to send your clerk flowers. I’ve never heard Georgia Shearer giggle.”
Goddard chuckled. “My clerk’s allergic. Send her wine. I’m going to cry when she gets her PI license and leaves the department. So what’s next, Doc?”
Sam sobered. “I think we need to talk to Devon Jones. She’s a sweet girl, only eighteen, and she works hard. She loves the old people. She comes off as doe-eyed and almost childlike, but she’s got a sharp mind. Still, I can’t see her stealing.”
“I hope you’re right, then, Doc. Especially since she was the last person to see Benny Dreyfus alive.”
“Someone with her key card,” Sam insisted, gritting his teeth.
“I truly hope so,” Goddard said sincerely. “Where can we find her?”
“She’ll be in the nursing ward this time of day.” Sam led the way to the elevator. “What about this article? Could someone have read it and targeted Benny? Even if they thought it was in a bank vault, the thief could have asked around and found out that it was here. It could have even been someone with the vault installation company. Why install a twenty-thousand-dollar vault if you don’t have anything worth protecting?”
Goddard grinned. “Look at you, Doc. Asking questions like a cop. I just sent my clerk a text asking her to check that out while you were talking with Georgia. But it’s more likely that a staff member is involved. I know McKittrick has been running background checks on them. One of the staff might become abruptly richer, but by then the collection will be gone and the family’s legacy with it. Let’s find out who it is before that happens.”
“I really do think I like you,” Sam said, disgruntled, pressing the elevator button for the first floor.
Goddard snorted. “I get that a lot. It’s a terrible burden to carry, Sam.”
Sam laughed as the elevator doors slid open.
La Jolla, San Diego, California
Tuesday, November 8, 4:05 p.m.
“You can park here,” Kit said, pointing to an empty space next to the university’s computer science building.
Connor pulled the sedan into the space. “I thought these spaces were reserved.”
“Only until four. Then they’re up for grabs.” Kit got out of the car, looking around at the familiar landscape. “I went here for my last two years.”
“I didn’t know that,” Connor said. “Where’d you go the first two years?”
“Did them online while I was in the Coast Guard. I attended the night school here, so I know about which parking places are free after hours.”
“Did you live at home?”
She smiled. “I did. I’d missed Mom and Pop while I was a Coastie, so I came back until I finished school. Mom made sure I ate and Pop helped me with my math homework. And they needed help with the farm, so it all worked out. We can go in through here.” She led Connor to one of the entrances. “For me, college was mainly a means to an end.”
“I enjoyed college, but I don’t miss it,” Connor said. “It was one big party, and I got a little tired of that by the time I was a senior.”
He’d gone to a fancy East Coast school and rarely spoke of it. Kit had the impression that something had happened to him there that had soured him on the university experience, but she figured he’d share when he was ready.
They found Archie Adler’s office on the fourth floor as his mother had indicated, but Archie wasn’t there. Which Kit had expected. Still, she was disappointed.
The sole occupant, a young man who looked to be in his midtwenties, stood when they knocked on the open door. “Can I help you?”
“We’d like to speak to Archie Adler,” Connor said politely. “Is he in?”
The man looked around the empty room, his sarcasm evident. “No.”
Connor smiled, taking out his notebook with an exaggerated motion. “We’re San Diego PD. Detectives Robinson and McKittrick. Homicide division. And you are?”
The man’s eyes widened, his gaze flicking to the open door where a sign said A. Adler and D. Stanza, listing the office hours for each. “Um…Dominic Stanza.” His sarcasm was miraculously gone. “How can I help you?”
“We’re looking for Mr. Adler,” Kit said. “Have you seen him today?”
“No, Detective.”
