Suddenly Kay yawned. She looked at the clock. It was shortly after three A.M. She yawned again. “I’ve done all I can do.”
I understood. A near escape from death had sent her adrenaline sky-high. Now the adrenaline had drained away and she was exhausted.
Kay pushed back the chair, walked toward the bed, turning off lights. She kicked off her shoes, and fully dressed, she dropped onto the bed.
I think she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
I struggled, too, with fatigue. Being in the world is physically tiring. Appearing and disappearing consumes enormous energy, though I didn’t think I would get any sympathy from Kay. I rubbed scratchy eyes. Before I slept, I wanted to explore the papers left behind by Jack Hume.
The ebony box still lay open on the desktop, next to Jack’s e-mails. I lifted out the contents one by one. A passport. I opened it, saw a photograph of Jack Hume. I flipped through the pages. He was indeed well traveled, visiting London and Paris several times each year as well as many of the African countries adjoining Kenya. His only recent visit to the United States coincided with his arrival in Adelaide. There was a packet of letters from Kay. I did not read them.
A thick legal document turned out to be the trust provisions of his father, John J. Hume III. A handwritten sheet in masculine writing was tucked inside along with two business cards. The sheet was the beginning of a letter to Kay. The sheet wasn’t dated.
Hi, Kay,
Too late tonight to call you. Paul explained the provisions of Dad’s estate this afternoon. All the trusts are set up, equal shares for Evelyn, me, and Jimmy. Surprised the hell out of me. I guess the old man really had mellowed. Maybe my coming back for James’s funeral made a difference. Maybe using the inheritance from Mom and making a go of my company in Kenya pleased him, even if he was mad as hell that I blew off Hume Oil. Who knows? Anyway, the Hume fortune will last at least another couple of generations. Everything will ultimately come to Jimmy since Evelyn and I don’t have kids. None of it matters a damn to me, anyway. I want to get back to the bush. I hope you…
Apparently, Jack had started the letter to her, then tucked it in the legal folder, intending to finish it later. I studied the business cards. On thick white stock with black printing:
PAUL FORBES FISHER, ESQ.
FISHER, BENTON, AND BORELLI, LLC
201 W. MAIN STREET
ADELAIDE, OK 74820
580.333.7942
The second card was a soft cream with dark blue lettering:
ALISON GREGORY
GREGORY GALLERY
104 WISTERIA LANE
ADELAIDE, OK 74820
580.333.6281
The second card carried a brief notation on the back: 2:30 P.M. Leonard Walker.
The last item in the ebony box was a computer printout entitled Hume Estate Artwork. I scanned several single-spaced pages, a list of paintings, statuary, silver, and any other artworks in The Castle. The evaluations startled me. A painting by Gainsborough was valued at $640,000. My oh my.
I checked to see if anything was tucked between the pages of the list or the copy of the estate provisions sheets.
In Jack Hume’s final e-mail, he was upset because a photograph had been slipped beneath the door of his room. What photograph and where was it?
Tomorrow I would ask Kay.
I replaced the items in the order in which I’d found them. Jack Hume’s letter about his inheritance indicated that no one in the Hume family needed money, making it unlikely that Jack had been murdered for his estate.
Kay was focused on what Jack had discovered in his three weeks at The Castle that made his murder essential. Tomorrow I would try again to convince her to leave the investigating to me.
I checked her bedroom door. It was locked. However, I propped a chair beneath the handle. It never hurt to take precautions.
I disappeared and whirled through the wall into the hallway. I began to explore, seeking a suitable guest bedroom. Who would ever have thought I would spend a night at The Castle?
I had some difficulty in making a choice, finally opting for a truly dramatic guest room with white walls, white rugs, and a spacious four-poster bed with a white spread. White is such a nice background for a redhead.
Of course, I could better appreciate the contrast if I appeared. I swirled into being. White shorty pajamas were perfect…
“Oh, dear. Harumph.” A hurried clearing of his throat announced Wiggins’s arrival. “Bailey Ruth, please.” There was a touch of embarrassment in his voice, but I didn’t miss the underlying stern tone.
Quick to observe the proprieties, I changed to a sky blue blouse and white linen trousers with the most fetching white sandals. I took a deep breath and looked in the direction of his voice. I wished he would appear. I suddenly empathized with Kay Clark. Dealing with an unseen presence was unnerving.
Moreover, I knew I was a ghost in trouble, fighting for my mission.
CHAPTER FIVE
It is better to give than to receive. Especially if trouble is on the way. Before Wiggins could scold, I beamed and clapped my hands in appreciation. “How nice of you to come. I’m sure you want to know the latest developments.”
“I know the latest.” His voice had a curious strangling sound. “Appearing, always appearing.”
I suspected an accusatory forefinger was at this moment pointed at me. I increased the wattage of my smile, clearly a woman confident of her actions. “Everything is working out splendidly!”
“Working out?” There was a note of uncertainty and possibly a flicker of hope.
I almost felt a moment of compunction. Really, men are such lambs, always responding readily to concrete statements.
“Definitely.” I was tempted to break into “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” but decided not to push my luck. “Kay thinks I’m imaginary. So, should I need to appear, no harm done. She won’t believe I’m there.”
I continued to beam in the approximate direction of his voice. I wished he weren’t so averse to being visible. “Of course, tomorrow—today actually—I’ll try again to convince Kay to leave the investigating to me. The wisest course would be for her to leave Adelaide.”
“That will be wonderful.” Relief buoyed his voice. “Your mission will be done. The Express can pick you up this afternoon.”
Perhaps I was too clever by half. My high-wattage smile felt fixed. “I’ll do my best to persuade her to depart, but there are ramifications.” My face grew grave.
“Oh?”
I spoke quickly. “Others may be at risk. Kay is my primary responsibility, but I need to discover the reason for Jack’s murder.” I gave my husky voice a portentous vibrato. “Until then, no one at The Castle may be safe.”
“Unfortunately”—Wiggins sounded somber—“I have a similar feeling. In the department, we are not privy to the innermost thoughts of those on earth. Only God knows. However, when I checked your file, I felt most uneasy. Though possibly your predilections might be the source of my discomfort. And”—his voice was dour—“I find it discouraging that you arrived at your post unaware you were here to protect Kay Kendall Clark. I most specifically”—great emphasis—“advised that you were perhaps unsuitable considering your attitude toward Kay. You assured me”—now there was a put-upon note to his voice—“that you were absolutely capable of discharging your duties. That moment in the garden when each recognized the other was not a scene I like to dwell upon.”