“She runs the office,” Jack said. “She said Flynn is at his desk, no visitors, but he’s on the phone a lot. Not doing much of anything.”
“Which is probably why everyone is coming to us!” Kate said.
“Seems so,” Sara said. “How do we stop it?”
Jack looked across at the two women sitting side by side. “You mean other than by solving the crime? I don’t know and I don’t want to attempt it.”
They looked at Sara.
“I agree. It’s just that...”
“What?”
“I’m beginning to identify with Janet Beeson. Older people are all assumed to be senile and—gag me with a spoon—cute. I hate cute! Last week I called to make an appointment and the girl asked for my birth date. When I told her, she gasped. Then she started talking to me in slow baby talk because I’m—you know—on the verge of dementia. And someone my age has never used a computer. Certainly can’t work a cell phone. I wanted to—” Sara took a breath. “I just feel sorry for Janet, that’s all. No one seems to have seen her as a person, just an old woman—which of course means she was sweet.”
Jack stood up and held out his hand to Sara. “Come on and let’s have dinner. I vote that we send all that we have to ol’ Flynn and never think about any of this ever again.”
“Sounds good to me.” Kate looked at her aunt. “Where did you get those blue pajamas?”
“A company called PJ Harlow. I have a pair that I haven’t shortened the legs on. Want them?”
“Ooooh yes,” Kate said as they walked to the kitchen.
Behind them, Jack was smiling in fondness.
Five
THE DOORBELL BEGAN ringing at ten minutes after 1:00 a.m. Kate woke, pulled the cover over her head, and tried to block out the sound. Jack will deal with it, she thought. And why hadn’t the security men stopped whoever it was?
Last night they’d taken big platters of food out to the guards. At the far end of the property was a shed that Jack had remodeled into a little guesthouse. It had a living room/kitchen, bedroom/bath so the men could use that while they watched over the place.
The doorbell didn’t stop. It wasn’t frantic or hysterical, but slow and steady. Beeep, beeep, then pause and repeat.
Kate threw the covers off. “Please stop,” she whispered, then cursed Jack for having the house wired so the bell could be heard everywhere. “Why aren’t they getting that?”
The answer came to her immediately. “Because they’re waiting for me,” she muttered as she got out of bed. “One for all, all for one. No matter what time it is.”
She snatched up a robe Aunt Sara had bought in China and lent her—dark blue with pale blue peonies—slipped it over the slinky pajamas, and left her suite. Sure enough, Aunt Sara and Jack were standing in front of the closed door, just waiting.
“It’s the sheriff,” Sara said. “Thought you’d want to hear what he has to say.”
The doorbell was still going off as Jack looked the women in their silky jammies up and down. “Sure you two are well dressed enough to receive guests? I could wait while you do your hair. Or maybe your nails?”
“I could use some new polish,” Kate said.
Smiling, Sara nodded at Jack and he opened the door. Sheriff Flynn stood there in jeans and a blue cotton shirt. There were dark circles under his eyes and the lines radiating out the side of his face were deeper.
Jack stepped back and made an exaggerated gesture of entrance.
“Sorry for the late hour,” the sheriff said, “but I’m being watched closely. Not officially, but still... I sneaked out a second-story window to get here.” He held out his left hand, which was covered in blood.
Sara took over. She led him into the kitchen and held his hand under a stream of cold water. “Bandages are in the—”
“I know,” Jack said as he motioned for Kate to follow him. They went across the foyer to Sara’s bathroom. “What took you so long to get to the door?”
“The desire for sleep. And I thought you two could handle whatever it was.”
Sara’s bathroom was octagon shaped, holding two sink counters with lots of drawers beneath. A large glass-walled shower was at the end. To the left, a toilet and bidet were in their own room. On the right was a tub that had windows to a private garden.