Darren turned pale. He started to hyperventilate, and moments passed before he could speak. "My God. Am I drunk, or stoned, or out of my skull?"
"Hi there, old pal. Long time, no see." Cam turned to Gabbie. "How's that for an opening line? Worthy of Peter Lorre, don't you think?"
"It'll do." She put an arm around Darren's shoulder, felt him sink momentarily against her before he sat erect, his hand to his forehead. "That's not Cam. It can't be."
"Wrong, Darren, old pal. It's as close to me in the flesh as I can get. I'm still on this plane because I have to know who killed me. Believe me, it was no accident."
Darren gazed down at the carpet, shaking his head. "This isn't happening. It can't be happening."
Cam came closer and snapped his fingers. "Come on, pal, I need your help. I'll start fading in a couple of minutes."
Gabbie glared at Cam. "Give him a chance to get used to you like this. It's a shock to his nervous system."
"You weren't this shocked the first time you saw me," Cam complained.
"Of course, I was, and I didn't even know you. You weren't my best friend suddenly making a comeback as a ghost."
Darren gulped down what remained of his water, which triggered a coughing jag. Gabbie pounded his back.
"There's no such thing as ghosts." His eyes narrowed. "Unless this is some kind of a trick. Cam was the master of practical jokes."
"Well, I'm not," Gabbie said. "Believe me, Cam's here." When he didn't answer, she slipped her hand in his. "Please, Darren, try to relax. Listen to what he has to say."
Darren shrugged, still staring at the carpet. He flinched when Cam stepped in front of him.
"It's me, Dar, or what's left of me on this plane. I can only appear in this room, and not for long, so trust your eyes and your ears."
Darren opened his mouth, and then shut it. "All right. I'm listening."
"I was drinking that afternoon as I packed my bags. Jill came, we had words, and I drank some more."
For the first time, Darren spoke directly to Cam. "How much liquor did you consume?"
"I don't know. A lot. More than I'd had in years."
"Then what happened?"
"I was sitting at my desk, trying to take care of last minute business. Had a Ray Charles CD going pretty loud. Suddenly I felt this blinding pain at the back of my head. Then nothing. I must have passed out."
"A Ray Charles CD was in the player," Darren murmured, as though Cam had finally presented him with proof he could believe. He met Cam's eyes. "And there was a contusion at the back of your head." He shook his head. "Christ, this is weird."
"Not half as weird as it is for me."
"Did you see who struck you?" Darren said.
"Nope. That's the problem."
"Smell a whiff of perfume? Aftershave lotion? Remember hearing a sound?"
"The CD was blasting, and I had trouble concentrating. Even using a calculator, the numbers kept running off the page." He laughed. "Thinking coherently wasn't easy with all the gin I was putting away."
"What time was this?" Gabbie said.
"I've no idea," Cam answered. "Jill left around four-fifteen, four-twenty, so it was some time after that."
"Still light out?" Darren said.
"Yep. I'm pretty sure it was."
Darren nodded. "That tallies. The two boys found the--er--you at seven-thirty." He swallowed. "Doc Bradley said death occurred two to three hours earlier."
"Between four-thirty and five-thirty," Gabbie mused. "What time was your flight, Cam?"
"Ten after nine. A car service was picking me up at six-thirty to drive me to MacArthur Airport."
Gabbie turned to Darren. "What did the driver do when his passenger didn't appear?"
"He says he knocked a few times. No one answered, so he went around to the back, found the sliding doors unlocked, and he went inside. He says he shouted up the stairs but didn't go upstairs. Figured no one was home, so he called the dispatcher, who told him to go on to his next pick up. Barrett and Ross found you an hour or so later on the beach."
"Any chance that they did it?" Cam said.
Darren shook his head. "There was no sign of a struggle. You were drunk, Cam. It was dark. You fell and died of a broken neck."
"So you say."
"So Doc Bradley says."
Cam snorted. "That old quack is growing senile and should have retired years ago. Trouble is, you're pig-headed. You decided it was death by misadventure and won't listen to what really happened."
Darren stood up. "Oh, yeah? Dead or alive, you're not giving me much help to prove otherwise."
Gabbie cleared her throat. "I'd better show you the note."
"Don't forget the phone call," Cam said.
Darren threw Gabbie a look of disbelief. "What phone call? What note? You never mentioned either one."
Gabbie walked over to the bookcase and retrieved the note. "I found this in my mailbox today, along with a dead mouse."
Darren read the note, and turned his head to stare at her. "You waited until now to show me this?"
"I told you I had something I wanted you to see. Besides, I didn't want to ruin our evening."
"Didn't you?" His face drained of all expression. Suddenly he was all cop. "At least you had the good sense to put it in a plastic bag. I'll take it to the lab. Check it for fingerprints. Where's the mouse?"
"I threw it into the woods."
He gave a sigh of exasperation. "What about the telephone call?"
"Someone called Wednesday night and said in a disguised voice that Cam's death was an accident. I should stop asking questions or I might fall and break my neck, too."
"Wednesday night? Why didn't you call and tell me about it then?"
"I--so many things have been happening, I didn't get a chance."
"For God's sake, Gabbie! He's given you two warnings. I want you to take this seriously. Stop talking about Cam to every jerk in town."
"That's exactly what I told her." Cam sounded smug.
Gabbie glared from one to the other, ready to let loose a retort, but Darren's pained expression stopped her. The poor guy had just gotten the shock of a lifetime, and now he was worried she might get bumped off next.
He managed to offer her a thin smile. "Come down to the station tomorrow, and I'll take your prints. Maybe we'll be lucky and lift the prints of whoever sent the note."
"Do you agree it was murder?" she said.
"I agree there's a strong possibility. I can start questioning everyone connected to Cam again, but there's no way I can get an order to exhume the body without some solid piece of evidence pointing to murder."
"Too bad there's no way to link the murderer to the missing money," Gabbie said.
Darren looked balefully at Cam. "What missing money? How much?"
"Half a mil."
Darren stared, open-mouthed. "In cash?"
"Of course in cash."
"From what crooked deal? You swore up and down you wouldn't pull anything stupid again."
Cam turned up his palms. "It was nothing--a piece of cake that fell into my lap. I'd have been crazy to have said no. The cash was the extra cushion I needed to start over again. Start it right, wherever I decided to go. Besides..."
"Besides what?" Darren demanded.
"Nothing," Cam said.
"What was it this time? A pyramid scheme? Fake stocks? Bogus investments?"
"What does it matter? The money's gone." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Not that I need it now."
"Where were you keeping it?"
Cam pointed to the desk. "In the bottom drawer." He smiled "Neat piles of brand-new hundred dollar bills."
Darren whistled. "How were you planning to get it out of the country?"
Cam grinned. "Hey, only some of it was mine. All right, most of it. You saw my plane tickets. I was flying down to Atlanta. Even though Roland's away half the time, I preferred to bank down there. The next day I was leaving for Nice."
"You still haven't tol
d me the nature of your little enterprise. Or who was in on it with you."
Cam sighed heavily. "Some guy I knew asked me to move a load of cigarettes. No taxes. Hey, don't give me that look. Everyone comes out ahead except Uncle Sam. No big deal. It happens every day of the week."
"The big deal is that someone murdered you, probably for the money. Who were your little helpers this time?"
Cam turned to gaze out the window. "No one you know."
"Oh, yeah?" Darren laughed. "You never could lie to me."
"I'm no informer, Darren. The guys involved had no reason to bump me off. They were coming here around five-thirty to be paid off."
"Who, Cam? I want names."
Cam squirmed. "I'll tell you, but only if you promise not to go after them."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Go after them!" Darren slammed his hand against his forehead. "Are you nuts? One or any combination of your partners in crime might have killed you for the money. Are you so stupid you can't see what's obvious?"
"I don't believe it. They were my pals, every one of them."
Gabbie let out a sigh of exasperation. "Tell him, Cam, or we're leaving right now." She turned to Darren. "He pulls this every time I suggest someone as a possible suspect. Of course the guilty person's someone he knew. You'd think he really doesn't want to find out."
Darren ran his knuckles up and down her arm. "Weird as it sounds, I understand what he's going through. I would hate like hell to learn that someone I thought was a friend did me in."
He turned to Cam. "All right. Start naming names."
Cam grimaced. "Reese, Don, Jack, and Terry."
Darren burst out laughing. "How about that? The gang of four. I thought they were furious with you because of the land sale."
"That's why I brought them in on this, to show good faith. I wanted to make up for what they considered their big loss. It was an easy forty thousand to throw their way."
"Forty thousand each?"
Cam laughed. "Are you kidding? Ten for each of them. A bit more for Jack, since we used his truck."
Darren calculated, and then shook his head. "Leaving over four hundred fifty thousand bucks for you! You devil, Cam!"
"So you see why it can't be any one of them."
Gabbie glared at him. "Don't be stupid. Of course it could. Forgetting the money angle for a minute, Don hates you because you slept with Tessa, and Terry thinks you broke up his marriage."
"And Reese resents you because of the way you treated Jill," Darren added. "He's really fond of her."
"So am I," Cam said mournfully. "What a fool I was not to take her with me. If I'd said yes, I never would have gotten drunk and careless."
For the first time, Gabbie realized how angry he was for having let himself become an easy victim. He was used to running the show, not being someone's dupe. Cam had been a flawed, amoral human being. He'd used people and pulled all sorts of illegal stunts. Despite all that, she was more determined than ever to find his murderer and let him go to his rest. "We'll find out who it was," she said. "I promise."
She saw that Darren was too deep in thought to comment. Finally, he said, "No one's gone on a spending spree, at least that I've noticed. Nothing obvious like buying a home in Florida or taking a trip to the Far East."
"You could check their safely deposit boxes," Gabbie suggested.
"Thanks for the lead," Darren said. When he saw her ears redden, he took her hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to come off sarcastic."
Gabbie recoiled. "I forgot I was talking to the police chief, who has every technical device at his disposal."
Though he had to know this was a zinger for having checked out her husband, Darren stood his ground. "Gabbie, I don't want to come off like some Neanderthal, but this isn't a joint enterprise. You did your part, bringing me here so I could talk to Cam. Leave the rest to me and my deputy."
Cam roared with laughter. "Lionel Daggett? That nincompoop couldn't find his shoes if they weren't on his feet. And you still need to show good cause to have the D. A. reopen my case."
Darren looked around the den. "The murder took place in this room. Since someone struck the back of your head, there's a good chance the weapon's still here. Please bring me some plastic bags, Gabbie, the largest you have."
"But the room's been cleaned. I've been using it, touching things."
"She's right," Cam agreed. "Any evidence you gather will be considered tainted."
"But if the lab finds traces of your blood or hairs on a possible weapon, the D.A. will be more willing to open up the case."
"True."
Darren's eyes shone with excitement. "And Roland's been back in the country three weeks now. Maybe he'll squawk and insist that they treat your death as a murder."
Cam pointed to the phone. "Call him. Tell him anything you like, and he'll back you to the hilt."
"I know he will."
"His cell phone number's on a post-it sticking to the side of the top drawer."
Darren opened the desk drawer and whistled. "Damned if it isn't." He picked up the telephone and dialed.
* * * *
Gabbie awoke early the next morning. She caught a glimpse of the overcast sky, and snuggled under her quilt. After breakfast, she'd go to the police station and have her fingerprints taken. Then she'd enjoy her day of solitude. Sleet or snow was in the forecast, perfect weather to stay home and read and do some school work. For dinner, she'd order in a pizza, and finish off the entire pie by herself.
She envisioned herself reposing languidly in the den lounge chair and sighed. Technically, it was her den, and she had every right to her privacy, but the reality was that Cam might appear at any moment. She gritted her teeth. After the tumultuous events of last night, she needed a day of peace and quiet. As much as she wanted to help Cam, she resented how he and his murder were taking over her life.
Last night Darren had bagged various items, among them the statue of the Roman soldier and the wall barometer. He was about to seal off the den to avoid further contamination, but postponed doing so when Cam insisted it was the only room where he could manifest, and he might have to communicate with Gabbie.
Darren and Cam had remained deeply engrossed in conversation, and when Gabbie announced she was going to bed, they barely responded to her "Good night." Some date that turned out to be.
She chided herself for being silly, and admitted that Darren's new priority to solve Cam's murder was a blessing in disguise. It would keep them both too busy to spare more than an occasional thought for each other. That kiss at the side of the road was proof positive of their strong mutual attraction, an attraction that could lead to a hot and heavy romance. And she was determined not to get involved with anyone right now, including Darren Rollins.
In the morning light, Cam's presence struck her as a different sort of problem. As much as he had her sympathy and she was willing to help him, his constant presence was becoming an intrusion. She needed long stretches of solitude to recuperate from her divorce and the horrendous days in court.
She was indulging in a second cup of coffee, when he called to her. Reluctantly, she went into the living room and faced him across the hall.
"Good morning, Gabbie," he said cheerily. "What I wouldn't give to taste a cup of java."
She groaned. "Not now, Cam."
"If you'll come in the den for ten minutes, I promise to disappear for the rest of the day."
"Oh, all right." There was no point in refusing. He'd only keep after her until she gave in.
She perched on the edge of the desk while Cam sat in the lounger. Realizing he was troubled, she curbed her impatience.
"Darren's going to start questioning people today. I'm just wondering... Do you think there's a chance he'll find out anything new? I doubt if anyone will remember what he or she was doing eight months ago."
"He'll learn plenty," she said, with more optimism than she felt. "Now Darren knows you were expecting Reese, Terry, Jack, and Don that afternoon. The
y have plenty of explaining to do."
"I can't believe any of those guys offed me."
"That last day when you were going to pay them their share, did you expect all four to show up here together?"
"Are you kidding? I didn't set up appointments, just told them to stop by for their money between five-thirty and six-fifteen. No one came, as far as I know."
"So, it's possible the four of them attacked you, or one came early and grabbed all the booty."
"Or it was someone else entirely," Cam said. "You and Darren will find out what happened."
"Thanks for not throwing me off the case like your pal tried to do last night."
"Darren's just looking after you. He likes you, Gabbie. I can tell."
She turned her head so he couldn't see her blush. "Time's up. I have to go to the police station."
"No problem. See you later," he said and disappeared.
After putting the kitchen in order, Gabbie got dressed and headed for the police station.
The small building was empty, except for Lionel Daggett, who was waiting for her at the desk. He was a tall, gangly young man with blue eyes that moved constantly yet never seemed to focus on anything. She had to agree with Cam that he didn't appear too bright. But he knew how to go about taking fingerprints.
"That's real exciting news, that Cameron Leeds was murdered," he said as he worked.
"Yes," Gabbie said.
"Darren's not here."
"I can see that."
He didn't seem to notice her sarcasm. "He's going to find Cam's murderer, Ms. Meyerson. First thing this morning, he brought those items over to the lab. Now he's out interrogating witnesses."
"And suspects, too, I hope."
Lionel winked. "Well, sure, but we don't tell them they're suspects right off the bat."
Gabbie drove home through empty streets washed clean by a cold, stinging rain. She settled down in the den with her school books and the latest Elizabeth George, which she'd brought with her to Long Island. Cam was true to his word and stayed away. Soon she was mid-deep in her copy of The Great Gatsby, jotting down ideas for discussion in her plan book as quickly as they presented themselves. When hunger pains assailed her. she was surprised to see it was almost two in the afternoon.
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