The Plot Read Free Page B

with the contents of his pockets lay on the floor beside the closet where she had left them. Funny. She'd made such a big deal about getting Daddy's things from the police, but as soon as she had them back, she'd forgotten all about them.
    Cassie crossed the room and stood in front of the dresser for a long moment. She had given her mother the ornate jewelry box for Christmas many years ago. “It's just what I've always wanted,” Mother had said. Cassie couldn't help smiling a little. She always said that. Even when I brought her those nondescript clay sculptures I made in kindergarten. As gently as if she were touching something sacred, she raised the lid and sifted through the trinkets. Other than the ruby tie clasp and cuff links Mother had given Daddy on their last anniversary and Mother's charm bracelet, there was little here to entice a burglar. Daddy had given Cassie all of her mother's other jewelry. He'd kept only the charm bracelet, because it commemorated so much of their lives together. She held the bracelet up to the sunlight filtering through the window and studied the glittering silver shapes: the “#1” for their first anniversary, the replica of the White House for the Inaugural they'd attended, the small key for- wait . This was no charm...
    "Is anything missing?” Williams’ voice interrupted the silence. She had forgotten he was there.
    "Uh, no. Everything's here,” she said, quickly placing the bracelet back into the jewelry box and closing the lid. “We may as well go back downstairs."
    He frowned. “Don't you want to check the other rooms?"
    "There's no point. The policemen said nothing was disturbed up here, and there's nothing of value in either my old bedroom or the guest room. If they didn't take the jewelry, it's obvious they weren't even up here. Let's go on back downstairs.” She turned to face the young officer standing in the doorway.
    "Are you sure? What about the attic?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
    Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What do I have to do to get him out of here? “Yes. I'm sure,” she answered, emphasizing each word.
    "Well, uh, you really ought—” Williams said, glancing down the hallway over his shoulder.
    Cassie pushed past him and was descending the stairs before he could finish his sentence.
* * * *
    She had almost finished a third cup of coffee by the time Investigator Henshaw returned and led her into the study. The room was covered in sticky black dust from the fingerprint technicians. Cassie grimaced and shook her head. It would take May Lee forever to clean up the mess.
    "It looks almost more like vandalism than burglary,” she murmured as she surveyed the chaos.
    "Nope. Not vandalism. Desperation. With a little meanness thrown in.” He took a pen and small notebook from the inside pocket of his dark blue suit coat. “Tell me, does your father employ any household help?"
    "Yes. May Lee Chang is the housekeeper and cook. Jonathon Sinclair is Daddy's handyman, kind of a general all-around fixer-upper. Keeps up the grounds, repairs things,” she replied, frowning at the pieces of her father's life that lay desecrated about the room.
    "Where were, uh...” He checked his notes, “Jonathon and May Lee when you got here?"
    "They've been on leave. When he was-killed, I told them there was no need to return until after the memorial service. Both of them were there today, although I saw only May Lee at the reception afterward. In fact, when I smelled the cigarette smoke, I thought Jonathon had come back here to check on things."
    "What kind of cigarettes does he smoke?"
    "Whatever is cheapest, I think. But you're wrong if you believe Jonathon-or May Lee-had anything to do with this. In the first place, they'd have no reason. In the second place, if they wanted to take anything, they could have done it anytime. They come and go freely."
    Henshaw turned away, studying the room. “Have you been using your father's computer?” It was still waiting for someone to