Erica Spindler - Killer Takes All

“On Saturday?”

“It’s a delivery option. Costs extra, of course.”

“Could anyone have gotten in and not have been noticed?”

Kay looked at Leo, cheeks pink. “I told you we should consider a video security system. How many times?”

“No one was hurt, Kay. If you’d just calm down-”

“Calm down? They were in the house, Leo!” Kay launched to her feet, her hands clenched into fists. Spencer sensed she was not only frightened but furious at her ex-husband as well. “How am I supposed to calm down?”

The man looked flustered. “They’re just trying to scare us.”

“Well, they’re succeeding!”

Spencer stepped in. “Take a deep breath, Mrs. Noble. We’ll figure this out.”

She nodded, visibly struggling to calm herself. “Go ahead.”

He questioned her a bit more, then turned to Leo. “How about you, Leo? When were you last in your office?”

He thought a moment. “Two this morning.”

“At 2:00 a.m.?”

“That’s right.”

Spencer frowned. “But not since then?”

“No. I slept late. I’m slow to wake up.”

“He rarely gets to his office before noon,” Kay said. “Today he didn’t bother because of the game.”

“And you didn’t enter his office this morning?” he asked Kay.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Why would I?”

“Deliver papers. Answer the phone. I can imagine any number of reasons, Mrs. Noble.”

“I’m not a secretary, Detective.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, irritated by the woman’s haughty tone. He thought about pressing her, then discarded the thought, thanked them and turned his attention to the other members of the household, Mrs. Maitlin first.

“You doing okay?” She nodded. “I need you to retrace your steps this morning, leading up to you entering Mr. Noble’s office. Can you do that?”

She nodded again. “I was bringing fresh flowers to the office.”

“Is that something you do every Saturday?”

“No, usually on Friday. But I didn’t make it to the flower market yesterday.”

“So you went today?” She indicated she had. “You were out of the house how long?”

“An hour.” At his expression, she darted a quick peek at her boss. “I went through the Starbucks drive-thru. The line was long.”

“What time was that?”

She glanced nervously at her watch. “I don’t know, between nine-thirty and ten-thirty.”

“Had you entered the office at all this morning?”

“No.”

He noted that her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “Not even to remove the old flowers?”

“I did that yesterday.” She clasped her hands together. “The blooms last a week, without fail. Mr. Noble doesn’t like wilted flowers.”

Who did? Lucky bastard.

“So you entered the office with the flowers?”

“Yes.”

Something in her tone and body language led him to believe she wasn’t being completely honest with him. “You carried the flowers to the office, then what?”

“Opened the door. Stepped inside and-” She pressed her lips together. “I saw the cards and drawing and went to get Mrs. Noble.”

“And where was Mrs. Noble?”

“In her office.”

“Where are they now?”

Her expression went blank. She blinked. “Pardon?”

“The flowers. They’re not on the desk.”

“I don’t know where…the kitchen. On the counter, I think.”

“We were playing White Rabbit in the kitchen. I don’t recall seeing them.”

“Mrs. Noble’s desk,” she said, sounding relieved. “I went to get her and set the vase on her desk. They were heavy.”

Spencer pictured the scenario as she’d described it. “Thank you, Mrs. Maitlin. I may need to ask you a few questions later.”

She nodded, started off, then stopped. “What did it mean? Those cards, the writing?”

“We’re not sure. Yet.”

The evidence techs arrived. Spencer greeted them and pointed toward the office. He glanced back at the housekeeper to find her staring at the team, expression pinched, cheeks pale.

She became aware of his gaze, spun on her heel and walked away. He watched her go and frowned. She was keeping something from him. But what? And why?

Spencer went in search of Troy, Leo’s driver and guy Friday. He found him washing the Mercedes. He caught sight of Spencer and straightened. “Yo,” he said.

“You have a minute?”

“Sure.” He tossed the chamois onto the car’s hood. “Needed a smoke, anyway.”

Spencer waited while the man shook out a cigarette, lit it and took a drag. He flashed him a bright white smile. “Filthy habit. But I’m still young, right?”

Spencer agreed he was. “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary today?”

He sucked on the smoke, eyes narrowed in thought. “Nope.”

“See anybody who didn’t belong?” Again the man indicated he hadn’t. “You were out front all morning?”

“Washing and waxing the Benz. Do it every Saturday. Mr. Noble likes his wheels to look sharp.”

Spencer glanced toward his Camaro, parked at the curb, desperately in need of a wash.

“That your ride?” Troy asked, indicating the Camaro.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Sweet.” He snubbed out the cigarette. “I wasn’t here all morning. Mr. Noble sent me to fetch some things for your game.”

“When was that?”

“Between eight and ten-thirty. Give or take. I ran out for a sandwich around noon.”

For an hour this morning both the housekeeper and driver had been off the property.

“Thanks, Troy. You going to be around all day?”

He smiled and picked up the chamois. “Gotta be here in case the boss man wants me.”

“Slick?”

Spencer turned at the sound of his partner’s voice. He waited as Tony ambled up the walk. “Get anything?” he asked.

“Not that matters. Old lady across the street complained about comings and goings over here at all hours. Swore the Nobles were into something illegal.” He paused. “Or were aliens.”

“Great. And this morning?”

“Quiet as a tomb.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” He glanced at his watch. “You done here?”

“Not quite. Need to question the yardman. Tag along?”

Tony agreed and they headed out back. The gardens were lush and well kept; the sheer volume of beds to tend, staggering. Certain times of the year, such as now, they probably required full-time attention to keep them looking the way they did.

At the moment, the yardman was on his knees in the southern-most corner of the property, planting annuals. Impatiens, Spencer saw as they reached the man.

“Barry?” Spencer asked. “Police. We need to ask you a few questions.”

Not a man, Spencer saw as the kid turned. Little more than a boy.

Barry frowned at them, then removed his headphones. “Hey.”

Spencer flashed his badge. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

Several emotions chased across the kid’s face: Suspicion. Curiosity. Fear. He nodded and stood, wiping his hands on his denim cutoffs. He was tall, gangly and thin. He’d yet to fill out his frame.

“What’s up?”

“You been here all day?”

“Since nine.”

“Talk to anybody?”

He hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

“You don’t seem so sure.”

“No.” His cheeks turned pink. “I’m sure.”

“See anybody?”

“I was on my knees, facing the fence all day. Do you think I saw anybody?”

Touchy. “These all planted today?” Spencer indicated the border of impatiens.

“Yeah.”

“Pretty.”

“I think so.” He smiled but the curving of his lips looked wooden.

“You go inside today, Barry?”