Riser laid her hand on Taylor’s arm. Taylor glanced back at me as Riser led her away, and I gave her a thumbs-up before they disappeared down the stairs. Detective Cosgrove touched my arm. “Ready to give your statement, Shell?” he asked.

  I nodded grimly. “I am.”

  • • •

  The whole procedure took about forty minutes. It was a little after eleven o’clock when Gary and I got back into my convertible. I’d called Josh while Gary was giving his statement to let him know what happened. As I feared, he’d been frantic when he realized Taylor had left the inn. His mood didn’t improve when I told him about finding her bending over Noelle’s lifeless body.

  “I doubt Hines can keep her out of jail now,” he groaned. “Shell, she was released into my custody. I blew it big-time.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I said. “Trust me, Taylor would have found some way to elude you and keep that meeting. The killer planned on that, too. Just go down to the station and support her. It’s all you can do right now.”

  I disconnected and Gary turned the key in the ignition and the motor sputtered to life. He shot me a sidelong glance. “Spill it,” he said. “I know you’ve got something on your mind.”

  “Taylor was set up. Whoever texted her must have known Noelle called me.” I sighed.

  “I agree,” said Gary. “Noelle’s body was still pretty warm. She couldn’t have been dead too long. I think it’s possible that Noelle did text Taylor. Maybe the killer forced her to, knowing Taylor would come and be implicated in her murder.”

  “It’s possible,” I agreed. “Noelle said that whatever she found would clear Taylor. Without that information, and based on what happened tonight, I’m afraid she might well be railroaded for a crime she didn’t commit,” I said. “I want to do something, but what? We’ve no clues, nothing to go on.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Gary reached into his pocket, pulled out a small scrap of paper. “When I bent down to see if Noelle was still alive, I saw this sticking out from underneath her body. I picked it up and stuffed it in my pocket.”

  I stared at him. “Gary Presser! Shame on you, removing evidence from a crime scene!”

  He looked at me, all innocence. “Hey, now, I had no idea it was evidence. For all I knew, it could just have been a scrap of paper that she’d fallen on. And, really, that’s all it seems to be.”

  He passed me the paper. I looked at it. It was a small piece of cream-colored stationery, with the initials IKP printed on it. Nothing else.

  I let out a cry. “IKP is the person who bought the silencer at Secondhand Sue’s. Greta said he only gave his initials.”

  “I guess that paper could be considered evidence, after all. Maybe I should turn it over to Riser.”

  “Not on your life,” I said. “Riser would throw the book at you or worse. And I need backup.”

  Gary’s eyes narrowed. “Backup for what, exactly?”

  “For our visit to Skillman Investigations tomorrow.”

  Gary stared at me. “Tomorrow? You heard Quentin—the guy’s out of town.”

  “Yes, but his receptionist slash assistant should be there. I’m afraid I don’t share Quentin’s opinion about assistants. I’ve always found that they usually know more about the boss’s business than the boss, and if they’re in the right frame of mind, they don’t mind sharing.”

  Gary nodded. “Good point. Okay—let’s get home and get some rest. First thing tomorrow, Skillman Investigations.”

  Twenty-three

  At nine a.m. Gary and I walked through the front door of the McCloud Building. We wasted no time but immediately got in the elevator and went to the third floor, where the offices of Skillman Investigations were located. The office itself looked like something out of a Sam Spade movie. The front office was small and was occupied almost entirely by a massive desk. The woman sitting behind the desk was petite, with creamy skin and long blonde hair that flowed across slim shoulders. She wore a high-necked white blouse and a navy blue jacket and looked very trim and professional. The brass nameplate on the desk gave her name as Liza Pough. She glanced up as we approached and gave us a wide smile.

  “Good morning,” she said. “If you’re looking for Mr. Skillman, I’m afraid he’s out of town on a case. If you’d like to make an appointment for next week, I’ll be happy to check his calendar.”

  Gary leaned across the desk and shot her one of his most ingratiating smiles. “We don’t need an appointment, Liza. Actually, what we’re looking for is information, information you might be able to help us with.”

  The smile vanished from Liza’s face, replaced by a wary look. “What sort of information?” she asked. “I’m not at liberty to reveal details about any of Mr. Skillman’s cases. Those are strictly confidential.”

  “Of course they are,” Gary said. “We’re not looking for any information about any of Mr. Skillman’s cases. We just want to know if you’ve ever seen this man in here.”

  He whipped a photo of Raymond Terrill out of his pocket and laid it on the desk in front of her. Liza looked at it and her frown deepened. “Of course I have. That’s Mr. Terrill.”

  Now I leaned across the desk. “Raymond Terrill?”

  “Yes.” Liza’s lips thinned and she regarded us suspiciously. “He’s a client. We’re not permitted to speak to people about our clients.”

  Gary leaned further across the counter. “We do realize that, Liza, and we appreciate your discretion. But trust us, this is a matter of life and death.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Just who are you and why are you asking about him? Can I see some ID?”

  Gary pulled out his wallet, extracted his driver’s license and handed it to Liza. I did the same. She looked at them, and suddenly her eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re Gary Presser! From Spy Anyone?”

  Gary graced her with his full-wattage smile. “That’s me.”

  “Oh my God,” she said again. Her gaze whipped to me. “This license says Crishell McMillan, but I’d bet my life you’re Shell Marlowe!”

  “I am. Crishell McMillan is my real name.”

  Liza started fanning herself. “Spy Anyone was one of my favorite shows. I cried when it went off the air.”

  “So did Gary,” I said with a laugh.

  Liza turned a worshipful gaze on Gary. “Why do you want to know about Mr. Terrill? Are you researching his life for some sort of future role or something?”

  “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Gary said. He leaned across the desk and said in a low tone, “We don’t want this to get out, but there are plans to do a movie tribute to Mr. Terrill. I’m in the running for the role, so the more I learn about him, the better my chances will be of snagging the part. I’d sure appreciate your help, Liza.”

  The girl let out a heartfelt sigh. “Anything I can do to help.” She hesitated. “Mr. Skillman is very strict about sharing information on clients, but seeing as Mr. Terrill is dead, I don’t suppose it would matter.”

  Gary threw me a triumphant look, then turned his attention back to Liza. “Well, for starters, do you know what Mr. Terrill was consulting Mr. Skillman on? I’d heard it was a marital situation.”

  Liza’s perfectly arched brows drew together. “Marital situation? Oh, goodness, no. It was nothing like that. As far as I know, Mr. Terrill wasn’t married.” She let out a self-conscious giggle. “At least, he didn’t act like he was.”

  Gary leaned in a bit closer. “It was something else, then?”

  Liza hesitated. “This will stay strictly between us? If Mr. Skillman ever finds out that I told anyone, he’ll have my head.”

  Gary made a crossing motion over his heart. “Just between the three of us, I swear.”

  I nodded. “I do, too.”

  “Well, okay then.” Liza pushed her chair back, walked over to a small filing cabinet and jerked open the middle drawer. She rummaged around in there for a few minutes before pulling out a manila folder. She came back to the desk and laid the folder in front of Gary. “Mr. Terrill wanted Mr. Skillman to work on a missing persons case. A Leonard Gruber.”

  Gary and I exchanged a glance. Then Gary asked, “And did Mr. Skillman find this Leonard Gruber.”

  “Yeah, he did. But it didn’t do Mr. Terrill a lot of good. Lenny Gruber is dead.”

  “Dead,” I cried. “Are you sure?”

  Liza nodded. “Yep.” She tapped the folder. “Obit and everything’s in there.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know just why Mr. Terrill was looking for this Leonard Gruber, would you, Liza?” Gary asked.

  She shook her head. “No. All I know is he called Mr. Skillman a few weeks ago from California. He said that he’d gotten a tip that this guy was somewhere here in Fox Hollow and he wanted Mr. Skillman to see if he could locate him.”

  “So this Leonard Gruber died here in Fox Hollow?” I asked.

  “No, he died in Clarendon, Kansas, about six months ago. It’s here in his obituary. See.”

  Liza opened the folder and extracted a sheet of paper. She passed it over to Gary, and I read over his shoulder:

  Leonard Prestwick Gruber, age 34, of Clarendon, Kansas, passed away at home following a brief illness. He is survived by his mother, Annetta Gruber (née Prestwick), his sister, Isabella Gruber McClellan, and his cousins, Diana Leigh Gruber and Irving K. Prestwick.

  Relatives and friends are invited to his visitation on Sunday, December 29, from 10:00 to 11:30 a.m. at the McCann-Healey Funeral Home, 851 Monmouth St., Clarendon. Funeral service will be held following the visitation. Interment will be private.

  I looked up at Liza. “I guess Mr. Terrill wasn’t happy to learn this,” I said.

  Liza shrugged. “I thought he wouldn’t be, too, but he didn’t seem upset in the least. There were some photographs, too, that Mr. Skillman found that were taken at the interment, but Mr. Terrill took those.”

  “What sort of photographs?” I had a gruesome thought of photos of Leonard lying in his coffin, which I immediately pushed out of my mind.

  “Just some photos of the family at the grave site. There was one group shot of the mother and the cousins. Mr. Terrill seemed particularly interested in that one.”

  Gary handed the obituary back to Liza, who slipped it back into the folder. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you could get us a copy of that photo,” Gary asked.

  Liza looked up. “Why would you want that?”

  Gary smiled. “You said Mr. Terrill was interested in it. If I could see it, maybe I could figure out why, and it would help me fit into the role better.”

  Liza brightened. “Oh, sure, if that’s the case. I happen to know the guy at the paper who helped out Mr. Skillman. I’ll see if he’s got another one he could email to me.”

  “Great. Let me give you my email address. And Liza, you’ve been a big help to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

  • • •

  Back in the hallway, I turned to Gary. “Terrill must have known that Lenny Gruber was the man in the photograph, the one taken at the scene of the accident that killed Eileen Cullen.”

  “And he was probably looking for the guy hoping to exact some sort of revenge,” Gary said.

  “Maybe he wanted to kill Gruber, but Gruber got to him first,” I said thoughtfully. “Noelle must have also recognized him in that photograph. That must be why she took it. But the killer can’t be Lenny Gruber if he’s dead.”

  “True,” Gary said. Then he snapped his fingers. “It fits.”

  “What?”

  “If you recall, the obituary also mentioned a male cousin—an Irving K. Prestwick.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper. “IKP—it fits.”

  “That’s right, it did. So that’s why you wanted a copy of that photograph.”

  “Exactly. Both Terrill and Noelle must have recognized the man in the photograph from the hit-and-run was IKP. Maybe once we see the photo from the interment, we’ll get some insight and then we can take it straight to Riser.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said.

  Gary looked at his watch. “It’s just ten. How about if I take the early shift at the pet shop. You go home and get some rest. You look like you didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

  “I didn’t,” I confessed. “Everything’s been preying on my mind.”

  “Well, there’s really nothing we can do now until we get that photo from Liza. Go on home.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. “I’ll call you the second I get that photo.”

  “You’d better.”

  We parted company at the corner. Gary walked up the block to Urban Tails and I made the left turn that led toward home. The cats all greeted me at the back door when I walked in. “I’d like to think you all missed me, but I know you want food,” I said. I filled each of their bowls with kibble and then kicked off my shoes and sat down at the kitchen table. I’d told Gary I was tired, but the truth was I was still too keyed up over recent events to sleep. Two people were dead, and there was a killer running around Fox Hollow somewhere. Sleep was out of the question for now. I had the distinct feeling that there was something I was missing, some obvious clue—but what?

  My cell rang. I looked at the screen and sighed. My mother. Well, if I didn’t answer it now she’d only call again. I swiped the answer icon and said, “Hello, Mother. What’s up?”

  “This production is doomed,” my mother groaned. “First Raymond, now Noelle. How can I stage a successful production if everyone keeps dying on me?”

  “I’m sure it’s not intentional, Mother.”

  “Very funny. And where have you been all morning? I tried your cell a few times.”

  “Gary and I had an errand to run.”

  “Oh?” I heard my mother’s tone rise ever so slightly. “You and Gary, eh?”

  “Yes, Mother. Why?”

  “You know, all this just adds fuel to my theory that the two of you are lousy actors.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You and Gary. Who do you think you’re fooling?”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Mother, if you want to say something, just come out and say it. Don’t beat around the bush.”

  “Fine. You act like you’re not interested in him, yet you’re always with him. He acts like he’s not crazy about you, but any fool can see he’s besotted with you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Besotted? Really, Mother.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “If you must know, Gary and I were over at the McCloud Building, trying to follow up a lead on Terrill’s murder.”

  “See,” Clarissa cried triumphantly. “That’s exactly what I mean. The two of you continually playing private eye. It’s just an excuse for the two of you to be together.”

  I bit back the angry retort that rose to my lips and said in a soothing tone, “Mother, you’re imagining this. Gary is interested in Olivia, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty tight with Josh.”

  “Not tight enough, apparently,” my mother said with a sigh. “I honestly don’t know what to do with you, Crishell. Sometimes you just can’t see what’s right in front of your eyes.”

  “And you think that’s Gary?”

  “Heavens, no! The two of you are all wrong for each other. Josh, though, is a different story. Please, Crishell, don’t let this one get away.”

  My mother hung up, and I set my phone down. I hated to admit it, but she was right. Not about me and Gary, but about me not being able to see what was right in front of me. The answer to Terrill and Noelle’s murders was there, I knew it.

  Princess Fuzzypants ambled over and rubbed her head against my ankles. I leaned down and rubbed her head. “I’m kind of glad no one has claimed you, Princess,” I said. “And I think Purrday echoes that sentiment.”

  The one-eyed Persian looked up from his food bowl and gave a loud meow.

  “As for my mother, well, now I know she’s nuts. Thinking there’s something romantic between me and Gary. I’m nuts about Josh, and Gary likes Olivia. Just because Gary and I make a good investigative team, she’s got us paired off like Nick and Nora Charles, or Jonathan and Jennifer Hart, for goodness sakes. I mean, we did play married spies for seven years, after all. Something had to rub off.”

  Purrday and the princess looked at each other and then at me, then the princess jumped into my lap and started purring. I stroked her head as I thought. I had to get my mind back on the prize. It all went back to that accident, to those photos. There was something there, but what?

  I jumped up so suddenly that the princess fell off my lap, landing on all fours. “Sorry, Princess. I’ve got to check something out. Feel free to tag along.”

  I hurried upstairs to my office and grabbed a magnifying glass out of the desk drawer. Then I came back downstairs, grabbed my jacket and opened the back door. The princess and Purrday dashed out ahead of me, but Kahlua remained hunched in front of her bowl, determined to finish her kibble and also anyone else’s. I made my way back to the shed, and once inside went straight to the box that contained Terrill’s belongings. I pulled out the puzzle box, opened it, and took out the clipping. I moved over to the desk and pulled the magnifying glass out of my jacket pocket. I hunched over the desk, examined the photo under the glass. I saw what looked like scraps of paper by the rear tire. It looked like there were some sort of markings on the scraps, but they were so small I couldn’t make them out. Darn! If there was only some way to get the photo blown up.

  I heard a scuffling sound and glanced up. The princess and Purrday appeared to be fighting over a small scrap of paper. I set the magnifying glass down and walked over to them. “What have the two of you got there?” I asked. The cats stopped, and both looked up—rather guiltily, I thought. The princess lifted her front paw, and I saw what had attracted their attention.

 

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