“Oh,” she said thoughtfully. She brightened. “Maybe he needed matches to light candles on a birthday cake—or for some other reason!”
“Maybe,” he agreed. But he doubted that Richard had planned on celebrating any birthdays in the middle of a campaign trip. Back to his original conclusion—Richard had probably picked it up just to scribble on it. Or someone had given it to him for that purpose.
“Well, thank you, Debbie. I appreciate your time.”
“Oh, no. It’s my pleasure. I’d love to help!”
He handed her one of his cards. “Call me, please, if you think of anything.”
“Oh, I will, I promise. And if you need me for any other information, you can call me.” She grabbed a cocktail napkin and wrote her name and number. Her handwriting was clear and careful. “Did Maureen Deauville and Rollo help you find Mr. Highsmith?” she asked.
He was startled by the question.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, they never put Mo’s info out there anywhere. That’s her choice. When we were kids—she used to come here for summers and a lot of the girls our age were friends then—she had another dog, a big wolfhound like Rollo. Mo was just sixteen when Robbie Anderson went missing. Everyone was going nuts. She went out with her dog, and she found Robbie. He’d fallen into a sinkhole at the cemetery. Went right through the ground into one of the mausoleums. Poor kid had to go to a shrink for months, but... No one heard him down there and they might never have heard him. It was way over from the far side of the church. Anyway, I heard from Tommy Jensen that he saw her there, so I assumed she had something to do with finding the...head. I’m just hoping she’s okay. That had to be hard. And Mo...she’s not like other people. When I see her, she’s still as friendly and nice as ever. And, well, there are people here who don’t associate with me anymore and pretend they don’t know me when they see me in the grocery store.”
“I’m sorry about that. Some people aren’t very open-minded,” Aidan told her. He hesitated, not telling her in so many words that her assumption about Mo was right. “Maureen Deauville is fine. I saw her a few hours ago. She was having dinner with a friend.”
“Tell her hi for me.”
“If I see her again, I most certainly will,” Aidan said. “Can I walk you out?”
“No, that’s okay. Denise, the bartender, and I will go together. We’re roommates. And Danny, the doorman, will get us safely to the car. He does that every night,” she said. She raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “Freaks. They’re an occupational hazard.”
“Well, I’m glad Danny’s such a good guy,” he said. He left, and Danny, whom he’d met earlier, bade him good-night. The door was locked firmly behind him.
*
Mo didn’t have any more wild and wicked dreams.
But she still found herself suddenly awake and alert...and listening.
The bedside clock showed that the time had crept up to 4:00 a.m.
She had no idea what had awakened her.
Then she realized there was something like a dark shadow in the room.
Rollo was awake, but not alarmed. He seemed to be staring at the shadow, too.
She was ready to reach for the fire poker at her bedside, despite Rollo’s calm, when the shadow became clearer in the moonlight.
It was Candy. Who never came into her bedroom at night.
“Candy?” Mo’s voice sounded like a croak. Yes, she was afraid.
Candy turned to her. She’d been trying to look out the window but the drapes were closed and her efforts were ruffling them but not moving them enough so she could see out.
“Mo! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Forgive me. This is so rude. I never enter a bedroom without being invited,” Candy said.
Mo waved a hand in the air. “It’s all right. Is something wrong?”
“No. No. Ah, I mean...maybe. Yes. Perhaps.”
“Candy!”
Candy came and perched by Rollo on the foot of the bed. “I don’t think it’s anything...dangerous.”
“Candy, talk to me! You’re scaring me out of about a decade of life, so just spit out what you’re trying to say.”
“I think there was someone out there,” Candy said.
Mo sat bolt upright and started to fumble for the phone on the bedside table.
“No, no! He’s gone now.”
“Yes, but still, if someone was there—”
“Calling the police won’t do any good now—or with this.”
“Candy, there might be something he left behind.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Not that the police can find.”
“Why not?”
“Because whoever it was, well...he’s not alive. It’s not someone living,” Candy said.
5
Aidan sat studying the notes he’d taken the previous day, and every report he’d received from the police and the medical examiner thus far.
He was still waiting for toxicology reports, and he believed they’d be important. If Richard had been drugged before he was taken, the list of suspects might be narrowed down to those who’d had access to the food he’d eaten or anything he might have had to drink.