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And the hunt began.
25
“What’s your thought, Pepper?” my dad asked as he drove me back to my place—it was actually easier to walk to the lodge than drive—after no keyhole was found that fit the key.
I didn’t refuse my Dad’s offer—order was more like it—for a ride home since I wanted time to discuss the case alone with him. And with him asking about my thoughts, he’d been thinking the same.
“Confused at the moment,” I admitted. “Struthers had information that presumably someone didn’t want known and enough to kill the guy. But who here would not want the information known?” I looked quick at my dad. “Don’t say Ian.”
“Okay then who?”
He challenged me and that was a good thing, and I gave it thought. “Why would anyone not want something known? Loss of credibility, loss of money, loss of power.” I shook my head. “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong. Maybe it wasn’t loss, but something that might be gained.”
“As in Ian gaining more of something?”
“A gain that could be devastating to someone else,” I said, the thought gaining steam in my head. “Maybe Max had money squirreled away somewhere and Ian’s rich beyond his wildest dreams and doesn’t need to work anymore. That would leave a lot of the models without work.”
“They could get work other places.”
“Not as much work as Ian has for them. Do you know that various companies come straight to him for promotional photos they require, and he supplies them with what they need? Beau told Amy that the experienced models earn a percentage from the more expensive ads. All the models are thrilled that Ian got a lucrative modeling gig. The more popular he is the more modeling requests they get. Without him, they wouldn’t be making the money they’re making, and Beau said they’re swamped with book cover requests. He asked Amy last night, while Ian and I were at supper with them, to be his accountant. He laughingly, but I believe truthfully, said that Ian was making him a fortune and he needed help with it.”
“I can see someone not wanting to lose their golden goose,” my dad said.
I shook my head. “Yeah, but I can’t see Beau killing someone.”
“Why because Amy likes him?”
“As a friend, Dad, Amy likes him as a friend,” I corrected.
“For just being friends, they have been seen together an awful lot.”
You would think I was possessed my head swerved so fast to the side to look at him. “They have?”
“Amy hasn’t told you?” my dad asked surprised, and I could understand why.
Amy and I shared everything, but then of late I’d been spending a lot of time with Ian. Had I been neglecting my best friend?”
“I know they’ve been out together, and she’s cooked him supper.”
My dad chuckled. “Often from what Vera says.”
“What did Vera say?” I asked curious, since Vera Andrews was Amy’s nosey, next-door neighbor.
“She says the hunk, her words not mine, has been to supper at least six times and he stayed over two of those times. That’s not to mention the few times he’s picked Amy up and dropped her off. And that is according to the notebook Vera pulled out of her purse where she had written it all down.”
Whoa, I was really out of the loop. I definitely had to talk with Amy.
Notebook? The nosy neighbor actually had it written in a notebook. I had to tell Amy.
“You didn’t know?” my dad asked when I’d remained silent.
“Some, not all,” I reluctantly admitted, eager to get on the phone with Amy and have a good talk.
My dad pulled up to my house and I was glad he didn’t say anything more about Amy, but then he was good when it came to Amy and me. He stayed out of our friendship as he did now.
“Do you recall the symposium I went to on motives behind human misbehavior that I discussed with you?” he asked, shifting his vehicle into park. A sign he wasn’t finished talking with me.
I thought a moment. “I do. The speaker believed there were only three reasons why a person would commit a crime: lust, greed, or power, if I remember correctly.”
My dad nodded. “Lust would involve a relationship or supposed one. Greed concerns finances. And power has to do with control. Maybe greed does have something to do with this murder. I’m going to take another look at the info and interviews we gathered on the models that were at the lodge at the time of Struthers’ death. Don’t mention that to Ian.”
“I won’t and keep that key safe. I think it holds the,” —I grinned— “key that unlocks this case.”
“Funny,” my dad said with a smile, and I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek before getting out of the car.
Mo scooted out the door as soon as I opened it and I planted myself in the black wooden rocker on the porch to call Amy.
