“I’ll follow you there and then go on to the station. Do you want to have dinner tonight?”
“Sure, that sounds good,” I said as I stood up.
“Great. I’ll pick you up around six.”
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into a spot in front of the coffeehouse. Mike honked and waved as he drove by. When I got out of the car, I heard someone call my name from across the street, and I saw Randy waving at me from the doorway of the bookstore. I held up a finger, indicating I’d be there in a minute, then turned and went inside the coffeehouse. Mother was talking to a dark-haired woman at the counter, and when she saw me, she waved me over.
“We heard about Joey Ingram,” Mother said, giving me a hug. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. He was arrested a little while ago. Mike’s on his way to the police station to interrogate him right now. But how did you find out?”
“This is Pamela Dimwitty,” she said, putting her hand on the woman’s arm. “Pamela, this is my daughter, Cam.”
We shook hands. “So you’re the one who called Mike?” I said.
Her eyes welled up with tears. “I am so sorry that I tricked you,” she stammered. “Joey told me if I didn’t, he’d fire me. I need my job.”
I shook my head. “Joey shouldn’t have put you in that position. I appreciate what you did. I thought you were Clinton’s secretary.”
“I was, but since he died, Joey has made me work for him.”
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Mother asked, worry in her brown eyes.
“No, he didn’t. He just wanted to talk.”
Both of them sighed in relief. “So then this whole thing is over?” Mother said.
I really wanted to tell her yes, but those nagging doubts wouldn’t let me. “To be honest, I don’t know. For me, there are still some unanswered questions, and I don’t think he did it.”
Pamela gasped. “How can you say that? He must have done it! For the last four months, he has been pressuring Mr. Clinton to sell him the company, but Mr. Clinton flat out refused. Joey was furious, and he told his father he would take the company from him, even if he had to kill him to do it.”
“But that doesn’t mean he would actually do it,” I replied. “When I told him his father was dead, he seemed genuinely surprised. No one could fake that.”
“I’m sure he did it,” Pamela insisted. “You didn’t hear him say it. The venom, the hate I heard in his voice…he meant it.”
“Then you should talk to Mike, tell him about it, and anything else that you think would bolster the case against Joey. Do you know what happens to the company now?”
“Well, the board of directors has had a meeting, and they have chosen an interim president to make sure that our current contracts are fulfilled.”
“Who did they pick?”
“Someone else. I’m not sure why. Mr. Clinton made his wishes very clear that I was to become president.”
“Excuse me?” I said. “No offense, ma’am, but I thought you were the secretary.”
“Hmphf, that’s what Joey believes. Truth be told, I’m more involved in the business than he’s been the last five years. Mr. Clinton had some health issues, his heart mostly, and so he sent me to meetings in his place. Many of the contracts we have right now are because of negotiations I’ve had with people and companies.”
Well, wasn’t she full of surprises? “So why do you still continue to work as a secretary?”
She shrugged. “It’s what I’ve always done. I’m still able to handle all the work and responsibilities.”
“What do you know about building costs, materials, permits, and all that kind of stuff?” I asked her.
“I grew up in a house full of brothers, Ms. Shaw. My father worked construction his whole life. It was pretty easy to learn when you’re around it all the time.”
I still couldn’t believe that Clinton Ingram would let someone who wasn’t family have so much control of his company, but before I could voice my opinion, the coffeehouse phone rang. My dad stuck his head around the corner. “Cam, Randy says he needs you over at the bookstore immediately. Something about a missing order.”
“I haven’t ordered anything over there lately, Dad.”
“He’s being pretty insistent.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. It sounded like Randy was being melodramatic, and just wanted me over there so he could find out what was going on. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Dad nodded and put the phone to his ear as he went into the back room.
“Thank you again for letting Mike know what was really going on, Ms. Dimwitty,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m just glad it worked out for the best,” she said. “I really need to get going myself. Thank you for the coffee, Charlotte. I’ll see you at church on Sunday.”
I watched her leave. “How well do you know her, Mother?”
“I’ve mostly seen her at church and a few social functions, that’s about it. Why?”
“Something about her story just sounds off,” I replied. “Maybe it’s just me.” I gave her a hug and a kiss. “I better go calm down Randy. He’s upset about being left out of the loop.”
“Probably,” Mother agreed. “Be careful. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hurried across the street, and walked into the bookstore to find Randy standing behind the counter, looking upset. “I thought you were coming right over after you talked to your parents,” he said as I put my bag down on the counter.
“Hello to you, too.”
“Sally told me that you were in to see Mike this morning, and that shortly after you left, a woman came in, said something to him that upset him, and he was out the door with two other officers like they were going to stop a murder. Somehow, those two things are connected, and I want to know what’s going on right now.”
“My goodness, you’re in a snit.”
“Never mind my mood, spill the beans.”
“Yeah, toots, start talking.” I spun around, and there was Mac, standing by the bookrack.
“Oh, good grief,” I muttered. “Why are you here?”
“I work here,” Randy said.
“Not you. Mac.”
“He’s here?”
Mac made the bookrack spin fast, sending paperbacks flying all over the place.
“Does that answer your question?” I said to Randy.
“Hey, knock that off!” Randy ran around the counter and started picking up the books. “If you damage them, I can’t charge full price.”
“That’s enough, Mac.”
“Bunch of party poopers,” Mac said. “Tell us what happened this morning. I was with Mike when that raven haired beauty came into his office all upset.”
“What were you doing with Mike?”
“I wasn’t doing anything with Mike,” Randy said as he started putting the books back on the rack.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know that? I can’t hear that evil ghost of yours.”
Mac gave the rack another spin, and the books went flying again.
“I don’t think he likes to be called evil,” I pointed out to Randy.
“You got that right,” the ghost said.
“Just answer the question, Mac. What were you doing with Mike?”
“I was hoping to get a look at his files on the Ingram case. I thought it might help us out if we knew what he knew.”
I had to give him credit. It was a good idea. Wish I had thought of it. “Did you find anything out?”
“No,” he said, looking disappointed. “The Raven came in, and we were both distracted by her. She barely finished telling Mike about your meeting being a set up before he was out the door.”
“Did you go with him?” I asked. I didn’t remember seeing him there, but that didn’t mean anything.
He shook his head. “I decided to stick with her.”
“And?”
“W
hat’s he saying?” Randy wanted to know.
I gave him a general run down before Mac continued. “She peeked out the door, then went over to the desk and looked through the files.”
“She what?”
“What, what?” Randy said. “She what?”
I waved my hand at him to get him to shut up. “Did anyone see her do it?”
“Besides me, you mean?” Mac said.
“Obviously that’s what I mean.”
“Nope, she didn’t get caught. She read through the notes pretty fast, then she pulled one of the pages out, stuffed it in her purse, and left.”
I felt a sharp pain over my left eye, and I rubbed it. “Any idea what the piece of paper said?”
“Not a clue.”
“What piece of paper?” Randy said. “I really hate getting one side of this conversation, you know.”
“Trust me, I’m not thrilled hearing all of it,” I told him. “It seems Ms. Dimwitty had an ulterior motive for telling Mike about the meeting being a set up by Joey Ingram. She needed to look at Mike’s case notes. Mac says she took a page out of the file.”
“Whoa,” Randy said. “Right there in the police station? She’s got ice water in her veins.”
I agreed with him. “Did you know that she’s been helping Clinton with some of the company’s business deals the last few years?”
“A friend who is a waitress at the country club mentioned that she had seen her with Clinton at a business lunch one day. It was with a couple of gentlemen from some big company in Dallas. Pamela did most of the talking, from what my friend could tell. But Clinton seemed to agree with everything that was being said.”
“Maybe she’s working both sides,” Mac suggested. “Playing the father off of the son.”
I told Randy what Mac said. “How old would you say Pamela Dimwitty is, Randy? Late thirties, early forties?”
“Somewhere around there, yeah. Why?”
“I’m just wondering if there’s something going on between her and Joey.”
“Ewh,” Randy said, shuddering. “Talk about daddy issues.”
“Sugar daddy maybe,” Mac said.
“I could see the sugar daddy angle,” I replied. “I wonder how much she makes at Ingram Construction.”
“If she’s been as heavily involved in the business as we think, then she’s probably making way more than any regular secretary would,” Randy said.
Pacing the floor, I rubbed my left temple again. Randy and Mac watched me go back and forth. “You’re wearing out my carpet,” Randy said after a couple of minutes.
“Sorry,” I said, walking over to the counter and leaning against it.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
“I feel like we’re running around in circles. I’m not sure if we’re getting closer to the truth, or further away from it.”
Randy came over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you need to go home and get some rest,” he said, looking concerned.
“I think I better tell Mike what Mac saw. We need to know what’s missing. I’m planning to talk to Grandma Alma later.”
“She’s busy this afternoon,” Randy said. “We’re having a wedding reception for her and Walt tomorrow night, so she’s trying to find a new dress. A couple of her friends were going to take her shopping.”
“Nuts.”
“Why don’t you go home, get some rest, and do some work that you’re actually getting paid for?” Randy suggested.
He had a point. Neglecting clients was not good for my bank account, not that I was desperate for money. The book I had written about my first encounter with ghosts was still doing well, and Joe was still trying to negotiate a movie deal. Go figure.
Mac disappeared before I left, and I figured he’d show up at my house at some point this afternoon. I figured Mike was tied up with Joey, so I went to Pop’s Burger Station instead, picked up some lunch, then drove home. After changing into a pair of lounging pants and a purple T-shirt, I ate, answered some emails, read the funnies, then opened my current manuscript, and got to work.
The writing went better than I expected. In fact, it went so well that I almost jumped out of my chair when the doorbell rang. Irritated at being interrupted, I stomped to the door and threw it open. “What are you doing here?” I said to Mike, who was wearing an Oxford shirt, a nice pair of dark jeans, and his boots.
“Um, we have dinner plans, remember?” he replied, his eyes looking at my clothes. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Sort of,” I replied. “Come on in.”
“How’s the book coming?” he asked me as he walked in.
I closed the door behind him. “Good. I got on a roll this afternoon, and I was so focused on what I was doing…”
He held up his hand to stop me. “I totally understand. I’ve stood you up a time or two myself because of work.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, giving him a big hug. “Forgive me?”
“It depends. Is there anything to eat in the fridge?”
“Besides the penicillin I’m going growing, I don’t know,” I said, realizing in all the madness, I still hadn’t gone to the store. “There might be some pork chops in the freezer.”
He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and headed for the kitchen. “I can work with that,” he said. “Get back to work.”
“I couldn’t do that,” I protested. “You’re a guest in my house. My mother would kill me.”
“We’re dating. It’s okay for me to fix meals at your house. I’m not going to tell her, are you?”
“But it’s not right. I should be…”
Mike turned me around and shoved me out of the kitchen. “You should be working on that book. You have a deadline, and I don’t think you want your agent to start calling you every waking moment. Now go, I’ve got this covered.”
I reluctantly went back to work, but it didn’t take long for me to get back into the story. Before I knew it, Mike was putting a steaming plate of food of pork chops, mashed potatoes and black eyed peas next to my computer. “This looks great,” I told him as he set up a TV tray beside the desk.
He smiled, left the room, and came back with his own plate. I started to say something else, but he held up one finger and left again. I sat back in my chair and watched as he brought in a candlestick with one of my mulled cider candles in it. Putting it on his tray, he pulled out a lighter and lit the candle. He came back with silverware, napkins and drinks. “Here you go,” he said, handing me the utensils and a drink.
“Wow, you’re spoiling me here,” I told him. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back to plain old TV dinners after this.”
“You don’t eat TV dinners,” he laughed as he sat down.
“Good point,” I said as I cut into the pork chop. “Oh my gosh, I’ve died and gone to heaven. This is fantastic! You’re going to make someone a good wife when you get married.”
“Are you proposing?” Mike teased.
The pork chop went down the wrong pipe, and I started choking. He jumped up and pounded me on the back until I stopped. “Sorry,” I gasped, taking a drink of Dr Pepper. “You caught me off guard with that one.”
“Watch it, you’ll give me a complex,” he said, sitting back down. “You’ll make me think you don’t want to marry me.”
“Now who’s proposing?”
We both just looked at each other. “Well, this is awkward,” he said.
“Why don’t we change the subject?” I suggested. “How did things go with Joey Ingram this afternoon?”
“Talk about doing a 180,” he said. “He clammed up and asked for his lawyer, who isn’t available until tomorrow. So Joey is cooling his heels in one of our comfortable cells for the night.”
I suddenly remembered what Mac had told me earlier. “Have you looked at your file on the investigation today?”
“That’s a funny question to ask me.”
“Have you?”
“Not since this morning.”
“When Pamela Dimwitty came to see you?”
“Yeah.”
I chewed on my lip, unsure how to tell him the next part. “You need to go through the file as soon as possible. There’s something missing.”
“How in the world could you possibly know that?” Mike said incredulously. “You haven’t been in my office since early this morning.”
“Let’s just say that you and Pamela weren’t the only ones in your office today.”
“What do you mean…wait a minute. Did you send Mac in there to spy on me?”
“No! I would never do something like that. He went of his own volition.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to find out what you knew that we didn’t to help with our investigation.”
“Our investigation? I thought you were going to butt out.”
“Tell that to Mac.”
“So you’re telling me that Mac managed to take something from the file?” Mike said. “Does this mean you have it, and you’re going to give it back?”
“He didn’t, and I don’t. It was Pamela Dimwitty.”
“That’s impossible. I didn’t leave her alone in my office…”
“…until after she told you about the set up with Joey,” I finished for him. “Mac said you took off and left her in there. She checked to make sure that no one was coming, then she went through the file on your desk, and took a piece of paper out. He said she stuffed it into her purse and left.”
“Could he tell what it was she took?”
I shook my head.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I honestly forgot,” I told him. “I had a headache, Mac and Randy were both nagging me, and I just wanted to step back for a little while. Not very good excuses, I know. I remember thinking at the time that I should have called you…”
“Get dressed,” Mike said, standing up.
“What? Where are we going?”
“Down to the station. You can’t go down there looking like that.”
“But dinner…”
“We can heat it up later,” he said. “Go get dressed. I need to know what she took.”
I saved my work and shut off the computer while Mike took our plates to the kitchen. I threw on a pair of jeans, my sneakers, and grabbed a denim jacket out of the closet. When I came around the corner, he was holding my keys and phone. I turned on the alarm, and he locked the door behind us before we got into his truck.
Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery Page 22
