Our game went on for over half an hour, long enough for me to plan my next move. I didn’t want to pin my future on Margot’s promise. I knew all too well she could have second thoughts and tell Harvey everything, thinking it would be best for Bonnie. If she did spill the beans or talk Bonnie into coming clean, I could forget about ever getting Julie’s book and ring back. Once they suspected Appleton had been murdered, his loot would become evidence, assuming it was found, and I would become the number one suspect. In the end, I decided to hold off a few days before going to the Sheriff’s substation in Bailey with Bonnie to give our statements. I wasn’t ready to perjure myself in the event Margot got Bonnie to confess. I needed time to gather more information before making any decision that could put me in jail for several years.
Once Fred was fed and lying at my feet, I went to the one source of information that never failed me: the Internet. I had convinced myself that it was the kids who killed Appleton when he caught them in the act of a break-in, but now I wasn’t so sure. My gut told me Appleton didn’t kill himself, nor did the kids die in an accident. That left Mr. Jerk as my only suspect, so I decided to run the cheapskate’s version of a background check on Renfield.
Craig Renfield turned out to be of the generation that had little to do with computers and social media. I couldn’t find him on Facebook, YouTube, or LinkedIn. Next, I tried Cory and Jennifer.
Cory kept his Facebook page private. Jennifer, however, seemed to have nothing to hide. She discussed in full detail all the things she and Cory were going to buy with the money they would get from Drake’s treasure. She also didn’t mind sharing her personal thoughts through her poetry. There were crude attempts at writing sonnets with only twelve lines and no clue about iambic pentameter. But it didn’t matter, for after reading several of them, I felt terrible for thinking this poor kid could have killed anyone.
It was obvious she had been abused as a child; abandoned by her father before she could walk and ignored by a drunken mother. Cory had saved her from taking her life only last year and the two of them were deeply in love. She moved in with him when she was only sixteen without any objection from her mother. Cory was her knight in shining armor, and the father of her unborn child.
I gave up searching when my Internet connection went dead around midnight. This happened whenever Bonnie would turn off the power strip to her router. She was close enough, so I didn’t have to pay for service of my own, but at times like this I wish I wasn’t so frugal.
The low-down on Renfield would have to wait, as would the solution to my problem of finding Julie’s book and ring. Fred was already asleep at my feet, so I shut down my computer and quietly headed for the bedroom. Whoever said dogs could hear twice as good as humans must have had a Golden. He woke and followed me before I made it two feet.
***
Sleep failed to produce the answer to my problem. I still had no idea who killed whom when I woke Monday morning. Instead, my subconscious kept nagging me about a more pressing predicament — what to do about Margot and her lawyer. Seeing as how it was Bonnie’s predicament too, Fred and I went knocking on her door. I’m sure his only concern was if he’d like what was for breakfast.
We could smell sausage frying even before we let ourselves in. Once inside, I went straight for the coffee pot. “This smells so good, Bon. It’s just what I need to wake up. Poor Fred has no idea what he’s missing.” I loved her coffee. Unlike the generic store brands I always bought on sale, she insisted on nothing but Columbian beans picked by Juan Valdez himself.
She smiled and rubbed Fred’s head. “Acid reflux, according to Doctor Oz.” Then she looked up at me like a worried mother. “Don’t tell me you were up all night at that computer again?”
“Not after your router went down. But in a way, I’m glad you shut me off last night. I probably would have fallen asleep at my desk again. That really hurts this old back.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I keep forgetting about that switch.” Almost every room in her house had an outlet for a lamp controlled by a wall switch. That was the building code back in the seventies when ceiling lights were not in fashion. Her router was plugged into one of those outlets.
Fred decided he wanted out, which seemed strange considering the wonderful smells of breakfast cooking. But nature must take precedence over food in the animal kingdom, so I left the kitchen counter where I had been standing and opened the back door for him.
“Do you think Margot can keep her word?” I asked without looking at her so I could watch Fred to make sure he didn’t stray too far.
When she didn’t answer, I quit watching Fred and turned toward her. She looked really upset. “Bon? Are you okay?”
“You’ll have to go without me, Jake. Margot insists I wait until her lawyer can go with me to make my statement. You know how she can be. Money does that to people. Makes them think they know best.”
Fred interrupted our conversation by barking before I could tell her I had decided to wait a few days myself. I quickly turned, and looked outside to see what had him so upset. Someone was driving up the road to my cabin with Fred chasing after him.
I yanked the door open, and yelled out before running down her back steps, “My God, Bon! It’s the SUV from Appleton’s! Wait here and call 911 if you hear any gunshots!”
I was completely out of breath by the time I ran up the path to my house. It was less than fifty yards, but it was all uphill. Fred had the driver trapped in his car, afraid to get out. When I got closer, I noticed a man with a neatly trimmed goatee, a horseshoe ring of hair, and thick glasses sitting behind the wheel. He was the author from the book signing.
“Down, boy. It’s okay,” I said to Fred, grabbing him by his collar.
“Mr. Martin?” Paul Wilson opened his window halfway, but didn’t make a move to get out of his car.
Bonnie’s Cherokee raced into my driveway before I could respond. “I called the sheriff,” she said through her open window. “They should be here…” She stopped short when she saw who it was.
Wilson finally found the nerve to leave his car and surprised me when he stood next to it. He barely made it to the top of its door. He had looked much taller at the signing, but then he might have been standing on some kind of platform at the time.
“I’m sorry to come unannounced, Mr. Martin, but I assure you I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
“It’s okay. She didn’t really call the cops. Did you, Bon?”
She shook her head no.
“Please call me Jake,” I said, extending my hand. “And the speechless lady is my good neighbor, Bonnie Jones. I think you already met my dog, Fred.”
Wilson returned the handshake without looking at me. His eyes never left Fred. “Yes, I remember him from the bookstore. He didn’t look so vicious then.”
Bonnie found her voice and came over to hold Fred. “He’s a pussycat most of the time. It’s that car you’re driving he doesn’t like.”
“My car?” Wilson asked. “What’s he got against my car?”
“He saw one just like it at a crime scene a few days ago.” She no longer seemed to be afraid of Wilson. Maybe it was because he was a good inch or two shorter than her.
He looked over at her Cherokee. “That was your Jeep?” he asked in a much stronger voice. “What were you doing there?” For some reason, the situation reminded me of the time when Fred had cornered a raccoon he’d been chasing. We were no longer the hunters.
“Maybe we better go sit on the deck,” I answered. “It’s a long story.”
He glanced at his Rolex then looked over at Fred the same moment Bonnie let go of his collar. I thought Wilson was either going to spoil his pants or make a run for his car when Fred went over to sniff his boots.