Mayes, Casey - A Deadly Row

Blood on my hands was something I just wasn’t willing to risk, no matter how brave I’d sounded talking to Davis.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW LONG THIS DAY HAS BEEN,” I SAID ASwe walked into our suite.

“It’s going to get longer. That note has put us under the gun. It’s long past personal.”

I stared hard at my husband. “Zach, what are we going to do if we can’t figure this out in time? I can’t stand the thought of someone dying because of us.”

“He’s counting on that, you know. We must have struck a nerve over the last few days.”

“I don’t doubt it, but who’s guilty?”

“I have a few ideas.” He tapped the box in front of him. “It’s in here. I just know it.”

“I have faith in you.”

“I’m thankful for that, believe me. Are you having any luck with the latest note? I can’t imagine what that clue was supposed to mean. I’m guessing he’s just trying to muddy our thinking.”

“I have to treat it seriously, though. If there’s something there that could help us, I have to keep searching for it.” I studied the latest copy, and then added, “Even if the clue is inadvertent.”

“What do you mean?”

I sighed. “I don’t really know how to explain it. Do you know how you can tell when someone’s lying to you?”

“Any number of ways, actually. The suspect’s eyes shift downward, he covers part of his mouth with his hand, or maybe his inflection changes.”

“But sometimes he does none of those things, and you still know.”

Zach nodded. “Okay, I agree that there are parts of my mind working on levels I can’t easily access.”

I smiled at him. “Kind of like women’s intuition?”

“More like a seasoned cop’s gut feeling.”

“Same thing,” I said.

“Maybe. What’s that got to do with the codes we’ve been receiving?”

“Numbers can lie, too.”

That got his attention. “How can that be true? A four is always a four. It can’t tell you it’s a three.”

“There are some mathematicians who believe that the entire world of statistics is one big lie. In fact, I had a stat professor in college who had a plaque above his door so everyone would see it when they left the classroom. It said, ‘Figures lie, and liars figure.’ He taught me that you can manipulate data to suit your purposes.”

“Okay, I can see that,” my husband said. “But that four is still a four.”

“Sure, but what if it’s disguising itself as one plus three?”

He shook his head. “It’s still a four.”

“But isn’t one way of lying telling only part of the truth? Numbers are perfect for that kind of sin of omission.” I tapped the latest copy. “There could be something in here disguised as a lie, but it’s really the truth.”

“If that’s the case, you’re going to have to find it, not me. I’m lost as usual when it comes to your number discussion.”

“That’s okay,” I said as I touched his hair lightly. “You’re good at other things.”

“I just wish one of them was solving this case.”

“Forget about the big picture and focus on the details,” I said. “Sometimes tackling a problem from a different direction is enough to show you the way. At least that’s how it works with my more complex puzzles sometimes.”

“I don’t see how it can hurt,” he said.

Zach pulled the coffee table over to the bank of windows, and he started laying out notes on it. There was barely room for me.

“Sorry. Did you need some space, too?”

“That’s okay. I’ve got the floor, if I need to spread out,” I said.

“I can give up a little room.”

“No, honestly, I’m just dandy right here.”

I stood and decided that the small end table would give me enough space for my needs. As I started to put the lamp and the telephone on the floor, I saw that the message light was blinking.

I picked it up and dialed zero. Zach didn’t even look up.

“Hello, I have a message.”

“I’ll connect you, Ms. Stone,” the operator said.

I was expecting a computerized voice mail system, so I was surprised when Barton Lane picked up.

“Good evening, Savannah. Thank you for returning my telephone call.”

“Sorry it wasn’t sooner, but we just got back in.”

“That’s fine. There isn’t a time constraint on our conversations.”

It was odd in one way to have a multi-millionaire at my beck and call, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it. I had bigger things to deal with at the moment.

“What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to thank you again for helping me with Cindy’s things.”

“No more thanks are necessary.” At that moment, something was clicking in my brain, something I’d seen in that puzzle.

“Oh, my word; I just figured it out. I have to go,” I said, and before he even had a chance to say good-bye.

“Who was that?” Zach asked.

“Barton Lane,” I explained as I started looking through the copies Zach had made up for me.

“You realize that you just hung up on a millionaire,” he said.

“Zachary, would you please shut up for a second?”

I found the sheet I wanted, and looked at the code on it.

Only I’d remembered it wrong.

I didn’t have anything after all.

I let the copy slip out of my hands, and I stared numbly out the window.

Behind me, I heard my husband say softly, “I’m sorry if I made you lose your train of thought, Savannah.”

“It’s okay. I was wrong.”

“Don’t let me off the hook that easily,” Zach said. “I know better than to interrupt you when you’re thinking.”

“I just don’t get it,” I said. “I thought I had something there.”

The phone started to ring, so I asked Zach, “Would you get that?”

He did as I requested, but I zoned him out after that. I kept staring at the codes, trying to make some kind of sense out of them.

I finally gave up, though. I knew I couldn’t force the solution, just as I couldn’t force one of my puzzles.

“Who was that?” I asked as I finally met my husband’s gaze.

“Barton Lane. He wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“What did you tell him?” I felt bad about hanging up on the man, but when a thought comes unbidden, it’s best to grab it with both hands.

“I didn’t have to say anything. He’s coming up, so make yourself presentable.”

Oh, no. Now I’d angered our host. Was he going to evict us, even when we were on a tight deadline to solve his assistant’s murder?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude to him,” I said. “Was he really upset?”

“I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t,” Zach said.

“If we get booted out tonight, we could always go to the Motel 6.”

“Or we could share Davis’s couch. It’s not too bad.”

“I get the pillow,” I said.

“I’ll toss you for it.”

There was a knock at the door, and I noticed that though Zach was more than a little distracted, he still asked, “Who is it?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then we both heard a voice say, “It’s Barton Lane.”

Zach looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. It sounded like Barton, though I didn’t know his voice that well. That’s when it hit me. Regardless of how insane it must be, his voice was quite a bit like someone else I knew, someone I cared about a great deal.

Zach must have noticed something in my expression, because he didn’t open the door. “Are you all right, Savannah?”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” I admitted.

“What is it?” There was real concern in his voice, and I loved him even more for it.

“I’m about to do something stupid, and there’s a one percent chance I’m right, and a ninety-nine percent chance I’m about to make a complete fool out of myself.”