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Jack spoke up. “Hate to interrupt you two, but have either of you seen the spy?” He glanced around at the other tables as though to see who was there.
Sara shook her head no. “That man’s face is ingrained in my mind so strongly that I seem to see him everywhere, but no, I haven’t.”
“The Arizona man,” Kate said. Sara had called him that in her report to the sheriff.
Sara held up the photo of Janet’s bookcase. “I’m including your stories about the man, but not his photo or any others. Why are you two looking so guilty?”
Kate glanced at Jack.
“Your report for the sheriff is finished?” he asked. “You aren’t going to add anything to it?”
Sara gave him a small smile. “Are you asking if I’m going to say that Gil might be a murder suspect?”
Kate gasped, but Jack gave a laugh. “Figured that out, did you?” He sounded proud.
“Not until I wrote everything out. I hope you two noticed that I left out the conversation you overheard in the report. There was too much bad in that and taken out of context, it could be interpreted as very bad. But it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the only reason Gil would be involved in something secret is for his son. I fully believe that Gil would kill anyone who tried to take Quinn away from him.”
“Janet Beeson,” Kate said. “The town do-gooder. Saving lives, helping people.”
“Quinn’s mother might have stopped at the church to get information and met Janet there.” Sara looked at her hands for a moment. “Are you sure that call you overheard was about Janet?”
Kate looked at Jack. “Now that you mention it, I don’t know if Janet was mentioned. We’re just so focused on this, it seems everything is connected. Maybe Tayla and Gil’s problems aren’t related to the murder.”
Jack was looking down at his plate of fried shrimp. “Or maybe Gil and Tayla are doing Strangers on a Train. You take my guy out, I’ll take yours.” When the women were silent, he looked up. “It was just a thought.”
“Not a good one,” Sara said, and Kate nodded in agreement.
Jack leaned back in his chair. “We all agree that our part in this is over? Done with? No more working on the murder?”
“The end.” Sara looked down at her pecan-crusted trout.
For several minutes, they ate in silence, then Kate spoke. “I have a house to show at two. What are you guys up to?”
“Putting on a roof,” Jack said.
“I thought I’d wander around town and take some photos. Just street scenes. Or maybe macros of flowers and bugs.”
The rest of the meal was eaten with chitchat as they avoided talking of the murder.
* * *
Kate’s clients canceled the 2:00 p.m. appointment and she saw an office memo saying that a deputy had picked up a lockbox for the Beeson house. When Tayla called to say she wouldn’t be there that afternoon, all the things together seemed to be a sign. It was like the cosmos was telling her what she needed to do.
In the call she and Jack had overheard, Tayla said that Sylvia had a book that could clear her name and it had to be in “that house.” Kate had no idea why Sylvia’s name needed to be cleared—except maybe to show her snobby brother that she hadn’t committed suicide. But that might hint at murder, so which was worse? Anyway, Kate was assuming her boss was referring to the house Sylvia used to live in.
Whatever was meant, Kate knew that she needed to get inside the house and see what she could find.
With Tayla out, the office was quiet. Nosy Melissa was showing houses in Pembroke Pines so she wouldn’t be back for a while. The two men were in the coffee room snickering over a date one of them had. She grabbed a canvas bag, Kirkwood Realty printed on the side, and dropped her big notebook inside.
It was easy to walk out the front door and get to her car unseen. She kept glancing at the big tree at the corner of the parking lot. That’s where she’d seen Tayla arguing with a man. Was he the Carl she’d mentioned on the phone? Was Carl the skinny man who’d spied on her and Jack? Yet he’d practically posed for a photo. If he wanted them to see him, why didn’t he show himself? Why hide?
She drove past Janet Beeson’s house and was pleasantly surprised to see that the big steel gat
es were standing open. She parked about four houses away, changed into the sneakers she kept in the car, and walked back to the house. She tried to appear casual but she kept glancing about to see if anyone was watching.
She halted at the gate and peered through the shrubs to see if any cars were there. It would be better if she weren’t seen. She especially didn’t want to be seen by Jack or Aunt Sara since she’d agreed to stop investigating. It wasn’t as though she was doing anything bad... Well, maybe it was illegal to trespass at a crime scene, but...
She didn’t want to think too hard about what she was doing.
