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“Treasure in plain sight, maybe?”
“Maybe. But it all depends on how you define ‘plain sight.’”
“I thought you went all over with your iPad.”
“I couldn’t hit every room. That would have taken days. Have your people searched the whole place?”
“Yes, but they weren’t looking for treasure.”
“Any leads on the murder?”
He shook his head. “I have a feeling this one is going to take a while. Who’s watching the kids? Your mother again?”
“Both parents.”
“Shall we go room by room?” he asked.
She smiled and said, “Yes.” Inside, though, she was frowning.
Ninety minutes later the rain had finally subsided and so had their search. Without result.
“If there’s a treasure in here, I’m not seeing it,” said Sullivan.
“What about a safe-deposit box? Bank and other financial accounts? The normal hiding places?”
“We’re trying to access some of that. But we’ve had a hard time tracking anything down.”
“He didn’t bank with some local entity?”
“Not that we can find. And there were no financial records at the house, at least that we could uncover. He may have them somewhere else, but we can’t even find a checkbook or a list of bills. He could be renting a storage facility somewhere, but we have no idea where it might be. But these days, you can hide stuff anywhere.”
“Tell me about it,” replied Gibson dryly. “But no one has come forward? Law or accounting firm? Financial advisors who worked with him?”
Sullivan shook his head. “They might have worked with him under another name and have no idea the guy’s even dead.”
“His murder’s been in the news,” she countered. “It mentioned he was killed at Stormfield. You would think his financial people would know he owned it.”
“We got some names from the Turners’ Realtor. Big surprise, we can’t find a single one of them. It’s like they ran for it.”
Gibson looked around the dank interior of Stormfield. “Well, the note I found clearly shows he knew someone would be looking for something. Either he hid it somewhere, or he didn’t and it’s just a whole lot of nothing.”
“Maybe you can work your magic and crack it. If you do, let me know.”
She frowned again but wasn’t facing him when she did so. “I can give it a shot. Hey, you know anything about Nathan Trask?”
Sullivan looked taken aback. “Trask? What does he have to do with anything?”
“Maybe nothing. But he’s a big mover and shaker in the criminal world, though I need to watch my words or else he’ll sue me for slander and probably win.”
“You think he was working with Langhorne aka Pottinger?”
“He might have been.”
Sullivan said, “I was told about him when I moved up from Carolina. He has a bunch of politicians in his pocket who cover for him.”
“What a world we live in.”
“Isn’t it though,” said Sullivan, who was also now frowning as the rain picked up again.
