Ghost Ups Her Game

by Carolyn Hart

  ‘I suppose after all you are shielding Gage.’ I liked Gage. I liked Robert. I wanted him to be there with Gage at fifty when she turned into her mother. I didn’t want her to be in trouble. But Gage crept into Lambert’s office at midnight, searched frantically, was almost a victim of the smoke. It was a toss-up in my mind. Did Gage hurry to the office because she killed Matt Lambert or because she had something to hide? Gage was not the only person with something to hide. Arson occurred to destroy contents in the office. Was the arsonist afraid Matt Lambert kept some kind of record or file or note that might lead to exposure?

  Whichever might be true, Gage was afraid of something.

  Iris was abrupt. ‘Gage was an intern in his office this summer. Period. End of story. My argument with Matt had nothing to do with Gage.’

  Truth always sounds true. So I spoke gently. ‘Then why was Gage in Lambert’s office at midnight?’

  SEVEN

  I watched Iris open the door to The Gusher guest room at Rose Bower, the temporary quarters for the Office of Outreach.

  Gage looked up at the sound, popped to her feet when she saw her mother. Gage was slim and appealing in a pale coral-and-white-striped shirtdress. Deep smudges beneath her brown eyes and a generally wan appearance hinted at her late night.

  Iris closed the door behind her, stood with her back to the panel. ‘What were you doing in Matt’s office last night?’

  Gage lifted a hand. Her fingers clutched at the scoop neck of her dress. ‘How did you know?’

  Iris’s deep violet eyes held fear. ‘Answer me, Gage.’

  Gage flung her hands wide. ‘Because I was stupid. Because I didn’t think anyone would believe me. Because he threatened me.’ She had the look of a cornered cat, fierce and determined, at bay as dogs yapped.

  Iris pushed from the door, hurried to her daughter, slid an arm around stiff shoulders, gave her a reassuring hug. ‘We’ll work everything out. But I have to know what happened.’ She took her daughter’s hand, tugged. They sat down side by side on a wicker sofa, a cheerful western piece of furniture unsuited for grand drama.

  ‘Mom,’ Gage’s thin face was earnest, ‘you always told me to do the right thing. You told me not to look the other way. If I saw somebody doing something bad, I couldn’t think, oh well, that’s their problem. If I knew, it was my problem. So when I thought Matt was extorting money from somebody, I knew I had to find out what was going on. I couldn’t accuse him of anything, like go to the president, without some kind of proof. And the way I found out was one of those funny things, like serendipity, but in a bad way. I was on the terrace behind the Student Union …’

  A two-story limestone building in the heart of the campus houses the food court on the ground floor and reading carrels, the alumni office, and faculty club on the second floor. The terrace has various levels and a series of blossom-covered arbors that provide little enclaves of privacy.

  ‘… and I was having a latte.’

  I smiled, remembering my college days and the unremarkable cafeteria and tepid, weak coffee out of big urns in white pottery cups.

  ‘I picked a spot on the lower terrace near an arbor covered with honeysuckle. I heard footsteps. I didn’t want to talk to anybody, I was texting Robert, so I slid inside the arbor. I was as far down on the lower terrace as you can go. Very private. The footsteps stopped a few feet from me. I recognized Matt’s voice. He sounded slick, oily. It wasn’t the words themselves. It was the way he said them. I’ll never smell honeysuckle again without thinking of that creepy conversation.’ She tossed her head, her silky dark hair rippling. I saw what Robert meant. The gesture was as wild and free as a mare galloping across a pasture at dawn, the wind stirring her mane.

  Gage reached out, gripped her mother’s arm. ‘Matt said,’ her face scrunched in concentration, ‘“You’ll make it happen. One way or another. How about five million? It will be the largest gift ever announced at Midsummer Merriment. I’ll give a huge shout-out at the banquet.” He stopped talking. I guess the other person said something. In a minute, Matt laughed, a nasty laugh, an I’ve-got-you-where-I-want-you laugh, and said, “I wrote down what happened that day. The door opening. You handing her the tray. We can trade. You give me a piece of paper with the amount of the gift, signed by you. I’ll give you the piece of paper with what I saw, signed by me. A win-win for both of us. Especially you.”’

  Gage gulped air as if she’d burst from deep water. ‘That was all he said. I think he clicked off his cell. I heard him walk away. And then I guess I was stupid. I wanted to get out of there. I hurried out of the arbor and started up toward the Union but then I stopped and looked back. He was at the sidewalk to the Administration building but he was looking toward the Union. I think he saw me. I just hurried faster and got inside. My heart was thudding. I was scared. Something bad was happening. I sat at a table and thought about what I’d heard, but without his slimy voice, the words could be any conversation with a donor. I needed proof Matt was doing something wrong before I told anyone.’

  She pushed up from the sofa, folded her arms tight across the front of the shirtdress, and looked down at her mother. ‘I checked the list of people coming to the banquet. There were three donor families.’

  I nodded in agreement. The Kirks, the Prichards, and the Mayers.

  ‘I overheard the call Wednesday afternoon. I thought and thought and I couldn’t figure out what to do. Thursday I decided to find out more about the families.’ Gage swallowed hard. ‘One conference room in the Outreach office has about twelve – I don’t know what to call them – niches, maybe? Anyway, kind of like in a church where you put the saints but these hold pictures of donors and red leather books with a tribute and a history of donations and what they’d meant to the college. I went there yesterday afternoon. I started with the Mayer family. I was reading about their last donation – a new chemistry lab – when Matt came in. He gave me a funny look, asked what I was doing. I was all smiles, said I’d checked out which donors were coming to the banquet and thought I’d do a little research. He didn’t believe me. He said, “Interns are expected to do work assigned to them. Major donors are not your concern. I suggest you go back to your cubicle.” I started for the door. He said, “If there are any further unauthorized explorations or any discussion of donations,” he stopped there and I knew he knew that I heard his call. He stared at me, his eyes like knives, “I’ll describe your performance this summer as unsatisfactory. Highly unsatisfactory. Unworthy of scholarships or internships.”’

  ‘He threatened you?’ Iris’s voice was tight with anger. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Oh Mom, I couldn’t.’ Gage looked thoroughly miserable as she sat down and turned to face her mother. ‘You came in earlier and everybody knew you were mad at him. I didn’t want you to come back. It would only have made things worse for me.’

  Iris looked grim. ‘Is that why you went to his office last night?’

  ‘I wanted to see if he’d written anything down about me. I was afraid if it came out that he’d put something bad in a file, I might lose my scholarship. And I thought maybe I might find out which donor he called, asked for the big gift. I checked his computer. There was a file with my name. I didn’t open it. I deleted a bunch of files including that one. In the call he said he wrote down what happened that day, like there was some special day that meant a lot. I didn’t think that would be in a computer file. You don’t talk about writing something down if you are putting it in a computer. So I pulled open drawers, hunted for anything that looked kind of secret or special. I didn’t find anything. I was about to quit when somebody outside smashed a window and threw a fiery stick inside. It was awful, the glass cracking and a gloved hand tossing a stick with burning stuff on one end. The stick landed on the desk and all of a sudden there was fire everywhere.’ Gage’s eyes were huge. ‘I couldn’t see. I lost my flashlight and the smoke was so thick I couldn’t breathe and, Mom, you’re going to think I’m nuts, but just before the window
broke, I heard a woman’s voice, even though there wasn’t anybody in the office but me. But when the smoke was so thick and I knew I was going to die, a woman took hold of me and pulled and showed me the way to the door. We got to the anteroom and I opened the hall door and I called out for her and she said she was fine but, Mom, there wasn’t anybody there. Mom, she saved my life. Do you think maybe she was a guardian angel? People talk about that kind of thing and I know she wasn’t there, but she was and that’s why I’m alive. When she said she was fine, I heard a voice and that’s all, just a voice, but she said she was OK, so I got into the hall and ran to the door and outside and then I went as fast as I could. I got away. But Mom, the woman, I don’t know where she went or who she was.’

  Iris’s violet eyes turned to me.

  I nodded.

  Iris sent me a look of gratitude and apology and heartfelt thankfulness. There was a depth of awareness in her eyes at how nearly Gage might not have survived. ‘I think,’ Iris’s voice was uneven, ‘we can thank your guardian angel. We will always thank her.’

  I wondered if I would ever have a moment to explain to Gage that angels are a higher order of being and I would never ever claim to be one. But perhaps it didn’t matter.

  Gage looked solemn, slowly nodded.

  I wished I could reach out and hug her, but instead her mom’s arms went around her and held her tight for a moment. When Iris sat back, she lifted a hand to lightly touch Gage’s cheek for an instant.

  Gage looked at Iris. ‘I woke up thinking about her this morning. That was a happy thought. And then I thought maybe I should tell the police about what I heard Matt say on the terrace. But I don’t know if they would believe me.’

  I lifted both thumbs up, nodded yes energetically.

  Iris hesitated, but she was a woman who would always try to pay her debts. ‘Whether they believe you or not, you need to tell them.’

  Folders were spread across the top of Sam Cobb’s desk. A plastic recorder sat within easy reach. As the recorder ran, it emitted a slight whirring noise, underscoring the reality of answering questions in the office of the police chief.

  Oddly, to me, Sam evinced no surprise when Gage took a deep breath and said in a rush that she’d gone to the Outreach Office last night because she hoped to find proof that Matt Lambert was in fact extorting rather than cajoling a huge gift for the college.

  Sam made notes, listened intently, his heavy face impassive. Gage described overhearing Lambert’s phone call. She didn’t mention her belief that he knew she overheard the call or his threat to give her a poor recommendation.

  When she finished, Sam studied Gage for a long moment. ‘About this phone call when you were on the terrace Wednesday. What time was it?’

  Gage pulled her cell phone from a pocket. ‘I can tell you.’ She scrolled. ‘Here it is. I was texting Robert. It was nine minutes after three.’

  Sam reached for a folder, opened it, riffled through some sheets. He stopped, made a note on his pad, closed the folder, looked again at Gage. ‘What time did you arrive at the Administration building last night?’

  ‘The clock in the tower was tolling midnight.’ She gave a little shiver. When on a secretive mission, darkness and shadows are intimidating.

  ‘How long had you been inside when the window was smashed?’ Sam’s gaze at Gage never wavered.

  She squeezed her face in thought. ‘Ten minutes. Maybe a little less.’

  ‘What did you do when you heard the glass break?’ His stare was intent, measuring.

  ‘I looked that way.’ Her voice shook and I knew she was remembering the rush of air and the smell of gasoline and red velvet drapes quivering.

  ‘What did you see?’ His face remained stolid, but his eyes were cold and suspicious. Did Sam believe Gage searched the office then hurried outside and ran around the corner of the building, used a flashlight to smash the window, lobbed material she had brought with her to create the blaze?

  ‘The drape billowed toward me. A hand pulled the drape to one side and—’

  Sam demanded, ‘Big hand? Small? Man? Woman?’

  ‘Could be either. A black leather glove. The glove looked big. But everything happened fast. The crash. The drape. The glove. Then fire. A ball of flame came through the air and landed on the desk. Fires burst out all around me.’ A trace of the panic she’d felt made her voice shaky.

  Sam’s gaze was cool and impersonal. ‘You used your entry code on the keypad to enter the building last night.’

  Gage looked startled.

  ‘There is a record of entries using the keypad. Were you aware each entry is recorded?’

  ‘I never thought about that.’ She sounded scared.

  ‘Perhaps the fact occurred to you later.’ He was sardonic.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Perhaps you remembered and knew you’d be questioned so you decided to come see us, appear as if you are cooperating.’ His voice was matter of fact.

  ‘I’m trying to help.’ She might be cornered, but she was going to keep on fighting. ‘You have to find out who Matt talked to, who he was threatening.’

  Sam asked in the same even tone, ‘What caused the quarrel between your mother and Mr Lambert?’

  The disconnected question, the danger-fraught question, jolted Gage. She looked smaller in the chair. ‘My mother?’ Her lips trembled.

  ‘You were in the office when she was overheard berating Lambert. What did she say?’

  Gage was mute, her eyes huge.

  I clenched my hands into tight fists. The interview was harder, more challenging than I’d expected. His question revealed Sam was focused on Iris and Matt Lambert, despite Gage’s midnight trip to Matt’s office. He’d obviously already interviewed other staff members.

  Iris intervened. ‘Gage heard what everyone heard. I told Matt in rather colorful terms that he was despicable. My opinion has not changed. Gage has no knowledge as to why I hold that opinion.’ Iris’s smile was cool and composed.

  ‘Really.’ Sam did not believe Iris. He did not believe Gage.

  He pushed the pad away, rose, making it clear the interview was at an end. ‘The investigation is continuing.’ He gave Iris a hard stare. ‘We will be in touch.’ The final words were a threat.

  Mother and daughter stood, Iris as self-possessed as always, Gage half mad, half scared. As they walked toward the hall door, Gage looked back at Sam. ‘I’m not making this up. Matt was forcing someone to give money.’

  Sam merely nodded, his heavy face unmoved, his gaze skeptical.

  When the door closed behind them, I attacked. ‘Sam, you need to listen. Here’s a gold-plated motive. Lambert wanted a big gift in exchange for keeping his mouth shut about what he saw.’ I almost repeated ‘gold-plated’ for emphasis, but surely Sam agreed. ‘Lambert had the goods on somebody with deep pockets and he wanted to make a big splash at the banquet, announce a major gift.’ I pulled a straight chair a little closer to his desk.

  Sam watched the chair move. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

  I rushed ahead. ‘Guests seated at the donor tables will know who left the ballroom and when. All you have to do is find out which donor left the ballroom around seven and you will have your murderer.’ This might be one of my quickest missions. Perhaps I would receive a special commendation for efficiency. A gold star on my file at the department? Not gold-plated. Genuine gold. Diverted for an instant, I wondered if Wiggins was still occupied in Tumbulgum.

  Sam leaned back in his chair, managed a sort of smile. ‘You have a nice voice, but I kind of like to see people I talk to.’

  I Appeared in a pansy purple linen blouse with pearl buttons down one arm, silvery slacks, and silver sandals. I hoped my makeup was fresh. I like to look my best when enjoying success.

  ‘That’s better. I should have known you were here.’ He punched the intercom. ‘I’m in conference. No visitors.’ He gave me a quizzical look. ‘Haven’t seen much of you,’ he said conversationally.

  �
�I’m here and there.’ I waved a hand gracefully and admired the matching purple polish on my nails.

  ‘I should have known you’re working for the professor.’ He shook his head. ‘She’s watched too many crime shows on TV, thinks she can blow off the police. She’ll find out we don’t give up and if she can’t answer questions, she’s signing a ticket to jail.’ He raised a bristly eyebrow. ‘Has it occurred to you that this time you’re backing the wrong horse? Maybe you’re supposed to be looking out for her daughter. The kid’s a lot more likable. Anyway, the professor is on my radar. Big time. And it isn’t just my antipathy for supercilious women.’

  ‘Sam, believe me, Iris isn’t supercilious.’ I pushed away my previous appraisal of her. ‘And Gage isn’t making up the story about the phone call.’

  ‘Were you there?’ He was definitely eager.

  ‘Of course not. I didn’t arrive until last night. But clearly Matt Lambert threatened someone. He demanded a major gift to keep quiet about something he saw. And,’ I was triumphant, ‘we know he carried in his wallet a square of paper that described something he saw.’ I almost tossed off Duh, but as Mama always told us kids, ‘Pat a horse and you can ride far. Kick and watch his dust after he bucks you off.’

  Sam eased back in his chair, clearly disappointed.

  I was insistent. ‘Obviously there’s a connection between his threat and his murder.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘Ease up, Bailey Ruth. You mean well, but you are obsessed with that scrap of paper. I get it that you found the paper in his wallet. I understand how you struggled to find all the pieces after your tussle with the man who had a dislike for floating paper. Can’t say I blame him. But even you have to admit there’s no suggestion of wrongdoing or crime in the words we have or the message you guessed at. As for Gage Gallagher’s eavesdropping, sure, maybe she heard something like she related. But the sinister interpretation is all her own. The kid’s hiding something and it doesn’t have to do with gifts to the college.’