night. Did you really call Henry about the deck, or was it something else?”
“Oh.” It could have been Ben’s imagination, but she seemed relieved. “I was overreacting. There’s no need to get into it.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Overreacting to what?”
“When I was out on the deck it felt as if I was being watched. So I checked from the kitchen window and didn’t see anything. Well…maybe there was a dark shape in the bushes. It made me uncomfortable, that’s all.”
Ben drew her to a halt. “Someone was trespassing on your property and you didn’t call 911?”
“I didn’t say someone was trespassing. And besides, I called Henry. Thankfully he was on a trip to Portland, so nobody got inconvenienced for something so silly.”
“That’s what the police are for. How long was the person there?”
Kelly looked at him, exasperated. “I told you, I don’t know that anyone was there. And even if there was, it could have been someone out for a walk who wanted a look at the ocean.”
“In the dark?”
“There was plenty of light from the moon. The water was beautiful, that’s why I was outside myself.”
“Let’s go.” Ben marched her to the parking lot.
“Hey, where do you think we’re going?” Kelly demanded.
“To your house to investigate.”
“I have to work. The mayor expects his morning report.”
“Tell him to take a hike. This is more important.”
She seemed about to argue further, but got into his Jeep Cherokee and took out her cell phone. “Viv?” she said after a moment. “I’m going to be late, but I’ll try to be there by nine…. No, nothing’s wrong…I’m just delayed because someone is bored and needs something to do.”
Ben snorted.
Hardly bored with someone threatening the mayor and two murders to solve.
“Will do.” Kelly closed the phone and looked at him. “If you insist on doing this, I live on Sea Front Drive.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat and turned north. “Henry pointed it out once when we were driving around town.”
“Oh.”
Ben was glad when she didn’t say anything else. A couple of days ago they’d gotten a report from a Sea Front Drive resident about a suspicious person hanging around. When Henry had heard about it he’d nearly had a stroke, then made sure Ben knew exactly which house was Kelly’s so he could get there quickly.
Ben hadn’t taken the report seriously until now. Murders made everyone nervous, and unsolved murders were ten-times worse. People reacted emotionally, so it was common to get a rash of “suspicious person” reports, whether it was a big city or small town. Ever since the first murder, calls had been coming in from all over Sand Point. So far none of them had seemed credible.
Now he wasn’t so certain. Kelly irritated him, but she didn’t seem the type to be scared of her own shadow. And she had admitted to knowing Simon, however casually.
Then there was the little issue of those damned mystery novels….
Ben grimaced.
He pulled into her driveway, braked and swung from the Jeep. Kelly got out before he could get to her side of the vehicle and act the gentleman that Henry had taught him to be.
“See?” She made a sweeping motion with her arm. “I don’t know what you expect to find. There’s nothing going on.”
It was a cool, crisp day, the sun rising in a cloudless sky. Kelly’s house was an older Cape Cod, with weathered wood-shingle siding. Everything was clean, well maintained and naturally landscaped. Nice, but not what he would have expected. What was the old saying about apples and trees?
He looked at Kelly. “No crazy-eyed, fake pelicans? No pigeon-toed-seagull statuettes crowded on the split-rail fence? What about a bevy of scantily clad mermaids, or some cheerful crabs clutching Welcome To My Home signs in their claws?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I have those in my yard?”
“Because your mother liked that kind of junk.” Ben had never seen the interior of the Jameses’ home when they were living there, but there’d been so much overdone statuary, cutesy signs and artificial junk on their side of the yard that it resembled a twisted cartoon nightmare. Thank God Henry and Gina had gotten rid of the hideous stuff ages ago. He’d never understood why they’d allowed the stuff in the first place…or why they’d let a woman like Shanna stay. It must have been out of their concern for Kelly and the way she was being raised.
“You’re a snob.” Kelly slammed the passenger door of the Jeep. “And if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss my mom with you.”
No wonder, Ben thought. Shanna hadn’t exactly been mother of the year material. He’d rarely seen her with Kelly, though that wasn’t surprising since she had frequent male visitors and worked at a bar until all hours.
Ben walked around the Jeep and found sandy shoe-prints on the driveway. He measured the prints and took several pictures with his digital camera before heading to the rear of the house. The deck design didn’t include stairs, and there wasn’t any easy ground-level access since the rear of the property dropped sharply.
“Where did you think you saw something?” he called.
“There.” She motioned to an area back from the deck and in the cover of the bushes.
He crouched near the spot. The grass was crushed and some twigs were broken, and a single, broad leaf lay on the ground near a greasy-looking, circle of dirt.
Ben noted the distance between the houses. There wasn’t so much oceanfront property in Southern California—not with houses that belonged to regular people instead of obscenely rich movie stars or business moguls like his father.
As for the view, while attractive, it didn’t compare to the one from twenty feet closer to the edge of the cliff. What it did offer was a partial view of Kelly’s deck, along with an unobstructed sight line of the windows and doors on the north and front sides of the house. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, but it was interesting.
“Have you had any workmen here recently?” he asked. “Someone who might have tramped around in this area?”
“No, nothing lately.”
“How about the neighbors—do they ever take a shortcut through the bushes to visit?”
“There’s a wider space closer to our back doors. That’s what we use.”
“Uh-huh.”
Ben took plastic evidence bags and latex gloves from his pocket—tools of the trade that he still carried from force of habit. He didn’t know if the techs could lift a fingerprint from a leaf, but he was willing to give it a try.
“You can’t be serious,” Kelly exclaimed.
The glove snapped against Ben’s wrist. “I’m always serious about police work.”
“This isn’t police work. It’s absurd.”
“Hey, you’re the one who was bothered enough to call Henry.”
KELLY SCOWLED.
She couldn’t believe Ben was collecting a stupid leaf as if it was evidence and taking pictures of sand on her driveway.
“Yes, and when Henry wasn’t home, I’m the one who decided the whole thing was silly and didn’t pursue it further. And I was right—it’s nothing.”
“How do you