Brandon stopped in front of them. He nodded at Maggie and touched the brim of his beat-up fedora. “Miss Lodge.”
“Detective,” she said. “Sam told me the scene inside the villa is ghastly. I’m so sorry both of you had to see the body.”
Brandon went blank for a beat, evidently at a loss to figure out what to do with her sympathy.
He grunted. “Part of the job.”
“I understand,” she said gently. “But it must make for some terrible dreams.”
“Uh.” Brandon pulled himself together. “Everyone has bad dreams sometimes.”
“Yes,” Maggie said. “But there are ways—”
Sam shot her a stern look. She got the message and stopped talking. He turned to Brandon.
“Find anything useful besides the hammer?” he said.
“Nothing yet.” Brandon shoved his hat back on his head. “No decent prints in the blood. The killer used a towel to wipe down the floor.”
“There will be plenty of blood on the clothes of whoever used that hammer,” Sam said.
“Yeah, hard to get rid of a lot of bloodstained clothes,” Brandon agreed. He glanced at the Guilfoyles. “Theoretically I should eliminate those two as suspects. If you’re right about the drug connection, it looks like they just lost the goose that was supposed to lay the golden eggs for them here at the Institute.”
“I wouldn’t be too quick to cross them off the list,” Sam said. “Maggie witnessed a quarrel between Oxlade and Guilfoyle last night right after Guilfoyle gave a dream reading. Oxlade announced he was ending their business arrangement and stormed out.”
“Interesting,” Brandon said. He looked at Maggie. “You saw the two argue?”
“Yes,” she said. “Mr. Guilfoyle and I chatted for a few minutes after the reading. I more or less accused him of being a fraud, and he admitted it. Oxlade was backstage at the time and overheard the conversation. He was furious.”
“That explains the suitcases in the living room,” Brandon said. “So Oxlade was trying to leave town, and someone made sure he didn’t. Gotta say, that’s a relief.”
“Why?” Maggie asked.
Brandon exhaled a deep, weary sigh. “Points to a motive, which means I’m looking for a human suspect.”
Sam raised his brows. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“No, but my men tell me someone is spreading rumors about a psychic assassin who murders people in their dreams.”
“It should be obvious Oxlade was not murdered by supernatural forces,” Sam said.
“Sure,” Brandon said. “A ghost or a spirit wouldn’t need a hammer. But we both know that little fact won’t stop the rumors or the headlines.”
“True,” Maggie said.
“My men are checking to see if the hammer came from the toolshed here at the Institute or the one at the hotel,” Brandon said. “If that’s the case it would be a useful lead. The officers are looking for the bloody clothes, too.”
“Has there been any progress on the Nevins case?” Maggie asked.
“No,” Brandon said. “Unless something new turns up, it will go down as natural causes. Nevins’s next of kin is an elderly aunt back East. She said she couldn’t afford to come out West to claim the body.”
“No one is going to bury Beverly Nevins?” Maggie asked.
“When I struck out with the aunt, I managed to track down Nevins’s roommate. Pamela Springs is driving from L.A. today to pack up Miss Nevins’s things. She said she can’t afford to pay for a funeral. Looks like the county will have to handle it.”
“How did Pamela Springs react when you told her Nevins was dead?” Sam asked.
“Seemed sad but not exactly shocked to hear Nevins may have overdosed. Apparently there was a history of heavy drinking and sleeping pills.” Brandon checked his watch. “I’ve got to be on my way. If anything comes up, give me a call.”
“Sure,” Sam said.
Brandon started to leave, but he paused. “A word of warning, Sage. The Guilfoyles suggested I put you at the top of the suspect list.”
“Figures,” Sam said.
“What?” Outrage slammed through Maggie. “How dare they suggest such a thing? What possible motive could Sam have?”
Brandon snorted. “Back in detective school they made a point of telling us that the first suspect is the one who discovered the body.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Maggie said.
“You’d be surprised how often it proves true,” Brandon said.
He turned and headed toward a group of officers gathered around the front of the guest villa.
“This is unbelievable,” Maggie fumed.
“No, it was predictable,” Sam said. “Brace yourself. The Guilfoyles just spotted us. They’re headed our way and they look annoyed. This kind of publicity probably isn’t what they had in mind when they asked Oxlade to lend his name to the conference.”
Maggie started to respond, but she stopped because Dolores and Arthur were suddenly right in front of them. Sam was right. They were furious.
Dolores glared at Sam. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Mr. Sage?”
“Found the body?” he offered.
“You’ve ruined us,” Arthur said, his voice tight with rage. “You’ve destroyed the Institute.” He swept out a hand in a gesture meant to encompass the entire estate. “We got through Nevins’s death, but there’s no keeping this one out of the headlines.”
“Even though you did predict it?” Maggie asked softly.
Sam glanced at her, frowning, but he didn’t try to shush her.
“What are you talking about?” Dolores demanded. She sounded uncertain. Wary.
“At the end of the reading last night Mr. Guilfoyle announced the Traveler was abroad on the grounds of the Institute,” Maggie said. “Hunting.”
Arthur stared at her, dumbfounded.
“Yes,” he said. “I did say something like that, didn’t I?”
“I believe you suggested that the Traveler’s target was a woman, but that’s just a detail, isn’t it?” Maggie said.
Arthur turned to Dolores, silently pleading for help. But her attention was focused on Maggie.
“Come with me, Arthur,” Dolores said. She ripped her gaze away from Maggie and took Arthur’s arm in a firm grip. “We must talk to the reporter from the Herald. We may have a chance to get on top of this story after all.”
Sam watched the couple hurry through the crowd. Then he looked at Maggie.
“It’s going to be rather ironic if it turns out you just saved the Institute a second time,” he said.
“Yes, it will be,” Maggie said. “I did it so that you could judge their reaction to the notion of saving the Institute.”
“I know.”
“Well? Did you learn anything?”
“Their reaction confirmed what we already knew. They’ll do anything to salvage the Institute and the business.”
Chapter 44
Beverly was a desperate, unhappy woman,” Pamela Springs said. “She grew up with money, you see. She was accustomed to good clothes and jewelry. She liked to party with her rich friends. But her father lost everything during the worst of the hard times. Took his own life with booze and pills. Earlier this year her sister did the same thing.”
“Detective Brandon wasn’t able to track down any close family members,” Sam said. “Apparently there is just an elderly aunt back East.”
Pamela had been reluctant to talk about Beverly Nevins, but Maggie had assured her she would be paid for her time. Pamela said she needed gas money for the drive back to L.A. and enough cash to cover Nevins’s portion of the rent that month. Maggie told her that was not a problem.
The three of them were drinking coffee at a sidewalk café in the heart of Burning Cove’s fashionable shopping district. Well-dressed tourists and locals strolled the palm-shaded sidewalks and studied the expensive offerings in the windows of the boutiques and galleries. Viewed from this perspective, Maggie thought, you’d never know the country was still hauling itself out of a terrible depression.