“I’m familiar with the Hemingway story,” Adam said. “Did you find anything inside the book?”
“Yes. A rolled-up note in the spine just like the one you found. Only this one had 14 written on it.”
“Do you have the note?”
“Not with me. I put it back in the book and locked it in my desk drawer at home.”
“Does that number mean anything to you?”
She shook her head helplessly. “I’ve racked my brain. I went through all the birthdays and anniversaries that may have been important to Dr. Nance. Nothing. But earlier, Clete asked Dessie about a safe. She said she didn’t know of one in the study, but that got me to wondering if these numbers could be a combination. Or a password.”
“That’s as good a guess as any at this point,” Adam said.
She sighed. “It’s just a guess, though. For all we know, the numbers could be nothing more than a manifestation of Dr. Nance’s delusions. If his mental faculties were slipping, as some people seem to think, he could have imagined this ‘dark thing’ and then left cryptic clues that don’t actually mean anything to anyone but him. Under ordinary circumstances, I can’t imagine him behaving so mysteriously. If he thought something was wrong, he would have gone to the police.”
“Unless he was worried that whatever he’d discovered might fall into the wrong hands before he had a chance to verify his findings. Anyway, he did go to the police. He called me.”
Her gaze faltered. “I meant the local authorities.”
“I know. And I understand what you’re saying about his mental state, but both things can be true. He could have uncovered something criminal even as he realized dementia was taking hold. Bottom line, I didn’t imagine the man at the cabin who shot at me. Nor did I dream up the driver who tried to run me down today. Something is definitely going on in Belle Pointe.”
She drew a breath. “I know.”
“And it seems as if Dr. Nance was counting on the two of us to figure it out.”
He saw her shiver in the dark. “With what we have to go on so far, that’s a tall order.”
“I’ve never backed away from a challenge. I get the sense that you haven’t, either.”
“I can be stubborn,” she admitted. “Those numbers keep bugging me. Forty-seven and fourteen. Four-seven-one-four. Could be the last four digits of a phone number. Or maybe even a Social Security number.”
“Anything’s possible. Without additional information, trying to find meaning in those numbers is like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Right now, we need to find that panel truck and figure out who this Clete guy is. Those could be solid leads.”
She nodded. “Something else happened tonight. It’s probably not important, but I found it interesting just the same. Lila Wilkes showed up at Dr. Nance’s house while I was hiding underneath the desk in his study.”
“Who’s Lila Wilkes?”
“She’s a local woman,” Nikki said. “A lot of people around here think of her as their guardian angel. Or maybe ‘an angel of mercy’ would be a more apt description. She spends a good deal of her time tending to the sick, especially the ones who are housebound. She’s been a godsend to the elderly. Takes them shopping, ferries them to doctor’s appointments and whatnot. Wherever they need to go.”
“Sounds like a regular Mother Teresa,” Adam remarked.
“I don’t know that I’d go that far, but she certainly fills a need in our community. I think you’ve met her. Average height, slim build. Gray hair cut in a short bob. In her late fifties, I’d guess. When she dropped by to visit me yesterday, she mentioned that she’d run into you in town the other day. You seemed to have made an impression on her.”
“I think I know who you mean. Asks a lot of questions. Likes to hear herself talk.”
Nikki nodded. “That would be Lila. Until tonight, I’d always bought into the saintly image that everyone seems to have of her.”
“What happened tonight?”
“Dessie said she didn’t feel right letting Lila plan a service for Dr. Nance because he hadn’t thought too highly of her.”
“Did Dessie say why he felt that way?”
“No, but it really surprised me because Lila told me the other night that Dr. Nance is the one who persuaded her to come to Belle Pointe in the first place. Of course, that was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
“Decades. She’s been here for so long that people forget she wasn’t born here. I probably wouldn’t have given any of this a second thought if I hadn’t seen her skulking around outside Dr. Nance’s study.”
That caught Adam’s interest. “What do you mean by skulking?”
“Sneaking around on his porch, peering into his study. I’m one to talk, since I did the same thing myself. Still, there was something odd about her behavior. On my way home, I remembered something my grandmother once said about her. ‘Butter won’t melt in that woman’s mouth.’ My grandmother wasn’t a kind person, but she was more often than not a sound judge of character.”
“What are you saying?” Adam asked. “You think this Lila Wilkes had something to do with Dr. Nance’s death?”
“The notion seems utterly insane. I can’t think of a single motive she’d have. But at the very least, I find it curious that her image may not be as squeaky clean as I’ve always been led to believe.”
“A lot of things about Dr. Nance’s death—about this whole town, for that matter—are curious,” Adam said.
Nikki’s tone turned grim. “That’s putting it mildly. So, where do we go from here?”
“Not
