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Authors: Patricia Smith Wood

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BOOK: The Easter Egg Murder
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38

 

Sunday Afternoon, April 16, 2000

 

 

“Who else besides Nick do you think was in a position to steal that envelope from Jacob Snow’s office two years ago?”

They were on their way back to the parking lot at Hastings to retrieve Harrie’s car. They had been di
scussing the case all afternoon and still had many unanswered questions.

“I don’t know,” DJ said. “We don’t
yet have enough information about Nick’s activities in the past eighteen months.”

“It seemed you had a lot of information earlier this week. You were convinced h
e did work for Senator Lawrence and that he owed a big debt to a bunch of money launderers.”

“That was before I found out about the will, and the apparent fortune he possessed. If it all proves to be on the up and up, we might have to look at the information we have in a different light.”

Harrie watched the passing scenery as she thought about other possibilities. “What type of work did Nick do for the senator?”

DJ
pulled into the parking lot, killed the engine and turned toward her. “We know Nick obtained a New Mexico private investigator license right after he arrived back in town, eighteen months ago. We know he met with Philip Lawrence at least twice in the last two weeks. Then on Monday, he was spotted entering the estate of Daniel Snow. We don’t know for sure who he visited, but Daniel doesn’t see many people these days, so it might have been his nephew, Jonathan.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense if he worked for the Snows? If there’s something fishy going on, they would seem to be the more likely employer.”

“I thought of that, and of course it’s entirely possible. But he had already made inquiries and according to the reports he filed, he did that on behalf of Senator Philip Lawrence.”

Harrie rummaged in her purse for her car keys, but stopped at that remark. “How could you possibly know Nick filed a report? Where did he file it?”

“He filed it with the PI firm he worked for.”

“Nick worked for a firm? Why would he do that if his work was shady? And it doesn’t sound like Nick. He was a loner.”

“It’s easier and quicker to get a license through an established firm which can provide the surety bond, proof of a physical location in New Mexico where records are maintained and made available for inspection by the State, licensing fee, background check and all the other things the state requires for a PI license.”

“But wouldn’t working
for a firm hamper his ability to keep what he was doing secret?”

“Depends on the firm.
I spoke to their manager Friday after I found out Nick died. He said they use an automated machine to take phone-in reports. Who knows if they check up on what their operatives report. The manager told me Nick’s last report was Wednesday evening.”

Harrie swallowed hard, fighting the sudden formation of a lump in her throat. “That must have been just before someone killed him.”

DJ put his hand on her arm. “Are you okay? I forget this is probably a little hard for you to hear right now.”

She shook her head. “I’m
okay. I just have a hard time getting my mind to accept all that’s happened. I’m not used to having people I know attacked and killed.” The moment the words left her lips, she realized the terrible irony of that statement.
My God, have I already forgotten about Mark?

She reached for the door handle. “I’ve got to get home. Thank you for lunch and for going with me to the office.”

“Wait,” he said and touched her arm. “Where are you headed now?”

She looked at his hand on her wrist.
A small surge of electricity coursed through her. She disengaged herself from his grasp and pushed the warm thoughts from her mind. “I have things to do at home. I’m a working girl, you know, and weekends are when I normally do laundry and all that inconvenient stuff.”

His look grew serious. “Promise me you’ll stay home
with the doors locked.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Besides, wouldn’t your patrol cars follow me?” Her smile softened the words into gentle banter.

“Okay, I’ll call you later on, just to make sure. Keep your cell phone with you.”

Harrie made up for lost time as soon as she got home
, sorting clothes, loading the washer and cleaning up the clutter. She had her favorite CD on as she danced around the living room, pushing the vacuum and singing.

Tuptim jumpe
d onto the back of the recliner and set up a howling that only a Siamese can manage. Harrie turned off the vacuum and heard the phone ringing. “Why thank you, my faithful watch cat. What would I do without you?” Harrie grabbed the phone.

“What are you doing
right this minute?” Ginger sounded excited.

“I’m cleaning. Why?”

Ginger’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Can you come get me?”

Harrie felt a shiver of apprehension. “Sure, but where are you?”

“I’m at Mom and Dad’s. We need to talk. Alone. Steve’s in the living room with them right now.”

Harrie thought about her promise to DJ. “What’s going on? Why all the mystery?”

“Ramona came by earlier and told my parents there’s some sort of emergency with one of her sons. She’ll be gone a couple of days and thought she should tell someone. She can’t tell the senator so she told my parents.”

“So?”

“So if she isn’t going to be there to clean and keep an eye on the place, I thought we might want to check up on things.”


You have a devious mind, you know that? I love it. But do you really think Steve’s going to let you and me go check on the senator’s house without him?”

Ginger’s voice dropped another notch. “He doesn’t have to know. Nobody knows I have the key.”

Apprehension settled around Harrie’s shoulders like a heavy woolen shawl. “But what excuse will you use to get out of the house and keep Steve from coming with you?”


I’ll tell him you’re going shopping for a new dress and want my opinion.”

Harrie took a long breath. “I have a bad feeling about this.” She hesitated, weighing her options. “Okay. Give me ten minutes to get out of my grubbies and drive over
.”

“Trust me, this will be worth it. Ramona told me Philip had been dictating into his tape recorder a lot recently. He told her it was a personal history he wanted me to have someday.”

“And you think this is significant and urgent now?”

“Yes I do. He told her about it ‘right after that nice young man’ came to see him.”

“What nice young man?” Harrie asked, knowing what she would hear but dreading it anyway.

“T
hat handsome private investigator, Nick Constantine.”

39

 

Sunday Evening, April 16, 2000

 

 

Harrie saw nothing that looked like an unmarked patrol cars as she headed for the O’Learys. Ginger must have been watching out the window, because she rushed outside as Harrie drove up.

“Do I need to go inside and tell them I want your fashion advice?” Harrie asked sarcastically.

“Just drive,” said Ginger. “Somebody out there who tried to kill my godfather, and I just know something in that safe room will help us figure it out.”

Harrie
gave her a sideways glance. “You’re the one who always keeps me from going off half-cocked. I don’t like this role reversal.” She grinned. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Ginger?”

Ginger smiled
and said, “Well don’t get used to it. I’m no more comfortable with this than you are. But with this new information, I feel like we need to act now.”

“You mean what you told me about Ramona seeing Nick?

“Yes, and something else. I overheard Mom say to Dad,
‘I’ve told Philip for years that woman would be his downfall, and now it’s happened’.”

“What did your father say?”

“Nothing. He saw me coming and clammed up.”

Harrie frowned. “Is there a woman in
the senator’s life we didn’t know about?”

Ginger shook her head, “The only woman connected to Philip I ever knew about was his wife.”

“He has a wife?”


He did have. She died years ago. As far as I know, he’s never been involved with another woman. Margo was my mother’s best friend in college. That’s how she and my father met Philip. Margo meant everything to him. They were only married about ten years before she died of cancer. He was so grief-stricken he just buried himself in his career. I don’t think he even dated a woman after her death.”


Then what could your mother have meant? What woman could possibly cause his downfall?”

“That’s what I have to find out,” Ginger said. “I’ve always had the feeling Philip had some secret in his life. Something he needed to protect. I can’t explain it. I just saw sadness in his eyes, even before Margo died.”

“So, you’re saying Philip has a big, dark secret, and your mom and dad knew about it.”

“Yes, and I think they blame this woman for Philip being attacked.”

“How’s that possible? Whoever shot Philip also shot Nick. I thought we’d pretty much decided the connection had something to do with Philip’s book.”

Ginger reached up and rubbed the back of her neck, her voice filled with weariness. “I know, I know. On the surface there doesn’t seem to be any logical connection. I lay awake half the night thinking about it. That’s
why I need to get in that room and see if we can figure it out. I need your help. You’ve always been good with puzzles. This is right up your alley.”

“I still don’t feel good about this. Especially going there in the dark. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.”

“And what would we tell Caroline when we leave work?”

“Tell her the truth.”

“No. She might feel compelled to tell her handsome son about our little caper.”

Harrie groaned. “You aren’t going to let go of that, are you?”

“Hey,” Ginger said. “When I see something developing between my best friend and a handsome guy, I’ll do everything I can to encourage it. You know how us little old matchmakers are.”

Harrie grinned and sighed. “Okay, okay. You win.
I’ll make you a deal. I’ll put up with your matchmaking and you agree to delay investigating the safe room until in the morning.”

“Okay. But before you leave, let me tell you another idea that popped into my head.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t laugh, but I wonder if Philip might have actually known Chipper Finn?”

40

 

Monday Morning, April 17, 2000

 

 

Harrie drove away from her house Monday morning under a clear, blue sky. That would probably change by afternoon, but for now, she simply enjoyed the soaring New Mexico sky.

She thought about the day ahead and imagined that a jewel thief might feel like this just before a heist. Her stomach fluttered and her blood pressure was probably sky high.
Why yes, doctor. My vital signs are always like this when I’m going to be breaking and entering before lunch.

Thankfully, DJ had waited until her return last night before he called. She truthfully told hi
m she was getting ready for bed and had been busy cleaning all afternoon. He didn’t directly ask if she’d gone anywhere, but she didn’t volunteer anything either. She didn’t actually lie, and it could have been a lot worse if Ginger’s wild plan had been carried out.

Harrie thought about Ginger’s idea. Could Philip really have known Chipper Finn? If so, it would have been when he was
in Albuquerque in the service. It would also explain his interest in the case, and why he’d been following it even before he moved back from Washington.

Harrie tried to remember the things Philip told them last Monday when they went to his house the first time. She remembered he told them the first time he read about the Chipper Finn murder was in the Albuquerque Morning Sun, delivered to him in Washington. What did he say first caught his attention? Something about Chipper looking familiar. Why would she look familiar? Could he have been a patron of the Los Huevos gambling establishments?

Harrie parked under a tree, and gathered up her purse and briefcase. She turned to walk into the building, and caught sight of a black SUV parked several spaces down. Her heart skipped a beat, and then caught up with a double thud. Is it DJ? She looked around the parking lot. She didn’t see either Ginger’s or Caroline’s car. If the SUV belonged to DJ, he would have gotten out when she arrived. She fumbled through her keys, looking for the one she needed. When she found it, she let herself in and quickly relocked the door. She punched in the code on the alarm keypad and hurried into her office. She’d been holding her breath the entire time and let it out in one big ‘whoosh.’ She waited for a knock at the door, but none came. Where was Ginger? And for that matter, where was Caroline?

S
he jumped when the phone rang. She calmed her voice when she greeted the caller. No one responded. She looked at the caller ID display and saw “Unavailable.” Again she said, “Good morning, Southwest Editing Services, how may I help you?

Still no answer. Harrie thought she heard someone breathing on the other end of the phone. “Who is this, please?” This was creepy.

The distinct click of a disconnect ended the call. Harrie dropped the receiver back on its cradle like it had suddenly become a snake. She reached for her cell phone and speed dialed Ginger. It went to voicemail.

“Damn!” she muttered, and snapped the phone shut again. She sat down at her desk and searched through the stack of business cards she’d collected. It had to be here somewhere. “There it is,” she said out loud.
Great! Now I’m talking to myself!
She started to dial then stopped. What would she say if he answered?
Oh DJ, I’m scared! There’s a black SUV parked in front of our office, and I just answered the phone and heard heavy breathing. Please come save me!

Laughter bubbled up inside her. Her tension slid off like water from her morning shower. She didn’t hear the door open.

“Harrie! What’s wrong?” Ginger’s silent entrance caught Harrie by surprise, and that, coupled with the laughing jag, triggered a hiccupping attack.

Ginger rushed around the desk to kneel beside Harrie. “What happened?”

Harrie waved a hand at Ginger as she went into another fit of laughter, interspersed with hiccups. When she was able to speak, she told Ginger about the SUV and the breather. By the time she finished recounting her imaginary conversation with DJ, Ginger was also laughing.

“Wait a minute,” Ginger said. “Why are we laughing? This could be something serious.”

“Oh, come on,” Harrie scoffed. “I’m just being a nervous twit, and you know it. We get wrong number calls all the time, and we never think they’re sinister. Admit it. This is a little over the top, even for me.”

Ginger turned serious. “In view of all the things that happened this past week, I don’t think either one of us should be that blasé. I think we should call DJ. This is exactly the kind of thing he’d want to know about.”

“Maybe,” she said over her shoulder. “But let me at least see if the SUV is still there before I make a fool of myself.” She peered through the glass. There were a few more cars now, including Caroline’s who had just arrived, but none were black SUVs.

“See, it’s nothing. There’s no SUV, no suspicious characters hanging around, and Caroline is just arriving with a box of stuff. Let’s forget it for now, okay?”

Ginger raised her left eyebrow. “Okay, but if any more funny stuff happens, I’m calling DJ myself, so get ready for it.”

Caroline walked in to find her two employers standing, one on each side of the door, in an apparent face-off. She looked from one to the other. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not really,” Ginger said. “I’m just whipping my little friend here into shape. She’s altogether too casual about the danger DJ said we should watch for. We need to keep an eye on her.”

Caroline put the box down and grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m really good at that. DJ was quite a handful when he was little. I’ve had lots of practice watching out for reckless kids.” She turned to Harrie with a serious look. “Has something happened?”

Once again, Harrie described the events of the morning. “It’s just me being more jumpy than normal. Usually it’s only bugs and spiders that get to me that much. Well, okay, maybe snakes and lizards, too. But as a rule, I’m not so nervous about other stuff unless I’ve had a dream.” Harrie instantly regretted her slip of tongue.

Caroline’s eyes lit up. “What’s this about dreams?”

“Nothing, really. Sometimes I have dreams that leave me jumpy. As I said, I’m not generally that easily spooked. Just lately.”

“I wish I’d been here,” Caroline said. “Maybe it was the same car I saw last Monday when I came for my interview. Could you see the driver?”

“No. Does everybody but me have tinted windows these days?”

They laughed, then Ginger said, “We’d better get going, my weak-kneed friend. We have an appointment, remember?”

Harrie went for her purse while Ginger spun a yarn to Caroline about visiting a new client. When Harrie came out of the office, she held up her keys and pointed to the vault. Ginger nodded and went back to the key cabinet to retrieve the set of keys Philip had given them last Monday.

When they were in Ginger’s car, Harrie said, “Did you give both our cell numbers to Caroline so she can reach us?”

“I did that last Wednesday when she first got here.”

“Would that have been
when you also gave my number to DJ?”

Ginger pulled back in mock horror. “Do you think I would be so underhanded?”

Harrie smiled. “Yes, I do. Yesterday I discovered he had my cell number, and I had never given it to him.”

Ginger’s eyes glittered with interest. “Did something happen yesterday? What are you holding back?”

Harrie sighed and described her entire day, including the impromptu meeting at Hasting, the trip to the office, lunch, and the stop at his mother’s house. When Harrie got to the part about the book Caroline had, Ginger’s interested shifted from the personal to the on-going mystery.

“Wow, why didn’t you tell me all this last night?”

“We were concentrating on this little scheme we’re pulling off today.”

Ginger nodded. “That’s true. Anyway, how hard will it be for DJ to find out who the author really is?”

“I have no idea. We got off the subject when he told me about Nick’s visits to Philip and one to the Snow residence. Did I tell you Nick dictated a report to an automated machine at the PI office where he worked? DJ spoke to the manager, who told him Nick had done some work for Philip. The last report covered that investigation.”

“How do we get our hands on that report,” Ginger asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Harrie said. “What makes you think we could get our hands on it? They’re not going to turn over the results of a private investigation to a couple of amateur sleuths.”

“Ah, but I know something that could change all that. I found out another little tidbit after you left last night.”

“Oh, I can’t wait for this,” Harrie said.

Ginger gave her a smug smile. “My
dad just happens to have been appointed by Philip as his agent of record in case of emergency. He drew up a Durable Power of Attorney and named my Dad to take over all his affairs if something happened to him. It turns out Philip’s current status automatically activates that Power of Attorney.”

BOOK: The Easter Egg Murder
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