murmured she thought they’d met years ago, but her memory wasn’t too clear. Her husband just shook his head.”
Suddenly Kay yawned. She looked at the clock. It was shortly after three A.M. She yawned again. “I’ve done all I can do.”
I understood. A near escape from death had sent her adrenaline sky-high. Now the adrenaline had drained away and she was exhausted.
Kay pushed back the chair, walked toward the bed, turning off lights. She kicked off her shoes, and fully dressed, she dropped onto the bed.
I think she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
I struggled, too, with fatigue. Being in the world is physically tiring. Appearing and disappearing consumes enormous energy, though I didn’t think I would get any sympathy from Kay. I rubbed scratchy eyes. Before I slept, I wanted to explore the papers left behind by Jack Hume.
The ebony box still lay open on the desktop, next to Jack’s e-mails. I lifted out the contents one by one. A passport. I opened it, saw a photograph of Jack Hume. I flipped through the pages. He was indeed well traveled, visiting London and Paris several times each year as well as many of the African countries adjoining Kenya. His only recent visit to the United States coincided with his arrival in Adelaide. There was a packet of letters from Kay. I did not read them.
A thick legal document turned out to be the trust provisions of his father, John J. Hume III. A handwritten sheet in masculine writing was tucked inside along with two business cards. The sheet was the beginning of a letter to Kay. The sheet wasn’t dated.
Apparently, Jack had started the letter to her, then tucked it in the legal folder, intending to finish it later. I studied the business cards. On thick white stock with black printing:
PAUL FORBES FISHER, ESQ.
FISHER, BENTON, AND BORELLI, LLC
201 W. MAIN STREET
ADELAIDE, OK 74820
580.333.7942
The second card was a soft cream with dark blue lettering:
ALISON GREGORY
GREGORY GALLERY
104 WISTERIA LANE
ADELAIDE, OK 74820
580.333.6281
The second card carried a brief notation on the back:
The last item in the ebony box was a computer printout entitled
I checked to see if anything was tucked between the pages of the list or the copy of the estate provisions sheets.
In Jack Hume’s final e-mail, he was upset because a photograph had been slipped beneath the door of his room. What photograph and where was it?
Tomorrow I would ask Kay.
I replaced the items in the order in which I’d found them. Jack Hume’s letter about his inheritance indicated that no one in the Hume family needed money, making it unlikely that Jack had been murdered for his estate.
Kay was focused on what Jack had discovered in his three weeks at The Castle that made his murder essential. Tomorrow I would try again to convince her to leave the investigating to me.
I checked her bedroom door. It was locked. However, I propped a chair beneath the handle. It never hurt to take precautions.
I disappeared and whirled through the wall into the hallway. I began to explore, seeking a suitable guest bedroom. Who would ever have thought I would spend a night at The Castle?
I had some difficulty in making a choice, finally opting for a truly dramatic guest room with white walls, white rugs, and a spacious four-poster bed with a white spread. White is such a nice background for a redhead.
Of course, I could better appreciate the contrast if I appeared. I swirled into being. White shorty pajamas were perfect…
“Oh, dear. Harumph.” A hurried clearing of his throat announced Wiggins’s arrival. “Bailey Ruth, please.” There was a touch of embarrassment in his voice, but I didn’t miss the underlying stern tone.
