Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery
Page 27
“You’re welcome, Penhall,” Prufrock said as he looked up. When he saw me, his right eyebrow shot up. “What is she doing here?”
“We were on our way to another meeting when I got your message. It was rather pointless to drop her off somewhere, come here, and then pick her up again.”
Prufrock looked down his nose at me. “Very well, but this is with the clear understanding that anything said here is private and confidential, and cannot be discussed with anyone else.”
“I’m perfectly aware of client/attorney privilege,” I replied.
“Just make sure you hold your tongue, young lady,” he admonished me.
I started to say something, but Mike put his hand on my arm and shook his head. “Mr. Prufrock, where did your client go after he left the police station this morning?”
“He came here so we could fill out a standard contract, paid my retainer fee, and left. Why?”
“Do you know what his plans were after he left here?”
“I have absolutely no idea, although I’m sure that he went home to take a shower after spending the night in your jail. Mr. Ingram mentioned that the accommodations left something to be desired.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure to upgrade the cells to five-star before he comes back.”
“That’s assuming he is arrested again, which I’m sure he won’t. Why are you asking for his whereabouts?”
“Someone attacked Ms. Shaw in the alley behind her parents’ coffeehouse about an hour ago, and issued a verbal threat against both of us. For some reason, your client’s name was the first one that popped into my head.”
“Mr. Ingram is a well-respected member of this community,” Prufrock began, but Mike cut him off.
“He’s also the prime suspect in the murder of his father. Save me the ‘holier than thou’ attitude, Prufrock. We both know that Joey is slimier than a snake in a swamp.”
“There’s no need to be rude, Penhall.”
“Chief Penhall,” Mike corrected him.
“I will talk to my client and see if he has an alibi for the time in question.”
“I would appreciate that.”
“Now, in the matter of Clinton Ingram’s will, it highly favors Joseph, but not his wife.”
“Clinton cut Susan out of his will?” I said.
He nodded. “He came to me a few weeks before his death, and asked me to make the change. If Mrs. Ingram tried to challenge the will, Clinton provided me with visual and written proof as to the reasons for cutting her off.”
“She was having an affair, wasn’t she?” I asked him.
“Not that it is any of your business, Ms. Shaw, but yes, she was.”
“And the gentleman’s name?” Mike said.
“Some director, let me see,” Prufrock said, flipping through the pages. “Oh yes, here it is. Richard Danforth.”
“The director of Blithe Spirit,” I told Mike.
“Did Clinton know how long this affair had been going on?”
“Several months.”
“Cutting her off wouldn’t have mattered though, would it, if she had divorced Joey?” I said.
“I believe they had a prenuptial agreement in place that dictated the distribution of money and property in the event of a divorce.”
“I’d like to change the subject just for a minute,” I said. “Are you the attorney for the Lillian Ingram Foundation?”
“No, I believe a Dallas firm is in charge of the foundation business,” Prufrock replied. “I just serve on the board.”
“Then you can answer questions about the foundation without betraying anyone’s confidence.”
“I suppose,” Prufrock said.
I looked over at Mike, who nodded. “Six months ago, there was an article about an audit that was going to be done on the foundation books. Could you tell us why?”
He shifted in his seat, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Missing money.”
“You mean embezzlement,” Mike said.
“Possibly, yes.”
“So why didn’t you or any of the board members report it to me?” Mike asked him.
“As I said, there was the possibility of embezzlement. At that time, we had nothing concrete to present to you for a case.”
“What made you think that there was money missing?” I said.
“Information from a reliable source.”
“Susan Ingram?” I said.
Prufrock frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a guess. Did she tell you that her husband was taking money from the foundation accounts?”
He sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter at this point. Yes, it was Susan who told me.”
“Did she have proof?” Mike said.
“Suspicions more than anything,” Prufrock replied, “but enough that I talked to the other board members by phone, and we all agreed that an audit should be conducted first before we accused him.”
“Did the audit turn up anything?” Mike said.
Prufrock shook his head. “All the money was there, every penny accounted for. Frankly, I believe Susan was telling the truth. I don’t know how Joey got the money back in the account before the audit.”
“Let’s go back to Clinton’s will. What about the construction company?” Mike asked. “Did Clinton mention in his will who he wanted to run the company?”
“As a matter of fact, he did,” Prufrock replied. “In the event he became incapacitated or he passed away, he wanted Pamela Dimwitty to become head of the company.”
“Have you made the board of directors aware of this yet?”
He shook his head. “No, not yet.”
“Does Joey know?” I said.
“He does now,” Prufrock said. “I told him this morning.”
“And how did he take the news?” Mike said.
“He was furious. He wanted to know if he could challenge that part of the will. I let him know that his father had made it clear that if any challenges were made regarding his wishes, then Joey would be immediately disinherited, and the money would go to various charities.”
“So as of now, he believes that Pamela is in charge of Ingram Construction?”
“Correct.”
“But she’s not,” I said. “The board of directors selected Desmond Long Jr., not Pamela, as their interim president.”
“I’ll make sure to contact the chairman of the board and let him know what Clinton wanted. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, I think that’s all I need to know for now,” Mike said, getting to his feet. He shook Prufrock’s hand. “Thank you for your time and the information.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
We were almost out the door when I turned around. “Mr. Prufrock, may I ask one more question?”
“If you must.”
“Who takes over the company if something happens to Pamela?”
“In the event that Ms. Dimwitty predeceased him, or if she dies within the first year after Clinton’s death, then control of the company goes to his son.”
Chapter 34
We said goodbye to Doris as we left. “Do you think Joey will go after Pamela?” I asked Mike once we were outside.
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I think we better find out where she is, and bring her in.”
“I have a feeling she isn’t going to like that very much.”
“I’m sure she’ll prefer it to being dead.”
“Good point,” I said as we got in the truck.
Mike put the key in the ignition turned the key, but nothing happened. “What the heck?” he muttered as he tried to start the truck again.
“Battery problems?”
“I just replaced it about a month ago.”
“Maybe one of the cables came loose. It’s happened to me before.”
I left my bag in the truck as we got out. Mike popped the hood and looked at the battery cables. “You’re right, one of them is loose,” he said, pushing it back into place.
 
; I heard a small click when he did that “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“I heard a clicking sound when you pushed the cable back on.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Mike started checking the cables and the area around the battery. “Oh, hell,” he said, “get back.”
“What’s the matter?” I said, leaning in to get a closer look.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the truck. “Give me a minute,” he said, walking to the driver’s side of the truck. Lying on his back, he slid under the truck. It wasn’t long before I heard a string of words I won’t repeat. He came back out and stood up. “There’s a bomb under there.”
“A what?”
“Get Doris and Prufrock out of their office right now,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Now, Cam! Go!”
I hurried back inside. “Doris, you need to leave right now.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“There’s a situation out front, and Chief Penhall wants us to get as far away from the building as possible right now.”
She opened a drawer, pulled out her purse and grabbed her cell phone off the top of the desk. “What about my car?”
“Where is it?”
“In the back.”
“It should be fine,” I told her. “Just go out the front, turn to the left and get as far from here as you can. Hurry, Doris, please!”
“What about Mr. Prufrock?”
“I’ll take care of him. You just take care of yourself.”
She nodded and ran out the door. I went down the hall and opened Prufrock’s door.
“How dare you barge in here…”
“We’ve got to get out of here now. I don’t have time for propriety.”
“I most certainly will not leave until you tell me what’s going on?”
“Do you want to get blown to kingdom come?”
“Of course not,” he said. “Wait, there’s a bomb in my office?”
“No, in Chief Penhall’s truck. We’ve got to go NOW,” I said, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of his chair. I shoved him out the door in front of me, and he quickly walked down the hall, into the reception area and out the front door. Doris was already two blocks away. “Go that way, after Doris.”
“But my office…”
“…can be rebuilt,” I told him. “You can’t. Now go!”
Prufrock glared at me, but did as he was told. I turned to look at Mike, who was just getting off his phone. “Did you get them out?” he said.
“I sent them that way down the street,” I said, pointing at Prufrock’s retreating back. “How much time do we have?”
“Run,” was all he said.
We made it about a block away before the truck blew up. The blast knocked both of us to the ground. Mike covered my body with his as debris started to rain down on us. After a couple of minutes, we sat up and looked down the street. What was left of Mike’s truck was on fire. Windows of nearby businesses were blown out, but I didn’t see anyone besides us on the ground. “Why do people keep blowing things up whenever we’re around each other?” I asked him as we got to our feet.
“Beats me, but I wish they'd stop,” Mike said, brushing dirt off my back.
“You and me both.”
We heard sirens, and turned around to see the fire truck just before it drove past us. Two police cars and an ambulance stopped next to us. “Is everyone all right?” Kim said as she jumped out of the ambulance and came over to us.
“We’re fine,” Mike told her.
“Was anyone inside that truck when it blew?” Reynolds asked.
“That’s my truck.”
“Isn’t that Prufrock’s Law Office by the truck?” he said.
“That it is,” I said.
“Anyone inside?” Kim said.
I shook my head. “I got them out before the bomb went off.”
“I am going to sue!” Prufrock said from behind us. We all turned around to see him coming toward us, his face bright red, and he was shaking his fist at us. “And you!” He pointed at me. “You are a dangerous woman, Ms. Shaw.”
“What did I do?”
“This is the second time my office has been damaged when you’ve been around.”
“I saved your life both times,” I pointed out.
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “You are a menace to society. You’re dangerous. A jinx. I’m going to file a restraining order against you. I don’t want you anywhere near me or my place of business ever again!”
“Oh, knock it off, Prufrock,” Mike said. “She didn’t do anything to cause this.”
“Knowing her, she probably stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong. What’s the matter? Almost getting crushed by a truck and falling down a well wasn’t enough of a warning to you? If you aren’t careful, the next time someone tries to blow you up, an innocent person is going to die. Mark my words. You are a jinx.” He turned around and stomped off.
“And to think, I thought he was an uptight man who wasn’t passionate about anything,” I said sarcastically. “Can he really file a restraining order against me?”
“He can. I don’t know if it will stick or not.”
I decided not to worry about Prufrock for the moment. “Mike, what about Pamela?”
“Thanks for reminding me,” he said, looking around. “Reynolds! Come here!”
Reynolds joined us. “The fire inspector is going to be here in a little while.”
“Fat lot of good that’s going to do now,” I said. “Wouldn’t the explosion have destroyed any evidence?”
“We might be able to find a few fragments,” Mike said. “I can make a sketch of the bomb, too.”
“What for?”
“Well, if the guy has done this before, then the way he built the bomb and what materials he used could help us find him faster,” Reynolds said.
“Sounds like a lot of work ahead of you,” I said.
“Probably, but the first order of business is to find Pamela Dimwitty,” Mike replied. “Reynolds, look up Ms. Dimwitty’s address and go pick her up. If she refuses to come with you, arrest her.”
“For what, sir?”
“Obstruction of justice, jaywalking, spitting on the sidewalk. I don’t care. Just get her to the station as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir,” Reynolds said. As he walked away, I heard him say, “Spitting on the sidewalk?”
“I better call my parents and let them know we’re okay,” I said. “Oh damn, my phone was in my bag, which was in the truck. And all my notes about the case.”
Mike pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Here, use mine.”
“Thanks.” I dialed the number for the coffeehouse, but got the answering machine. Same result with their cell phones and the house, so I called Randy.
“Crack’d Spine bookstore, how can I help you?”
“Randy, it’s Cam.”
“Hey, how’s it going? I heard what happened earlier. Are you doing okay? And did you feel that earthquake a few minutes ago? Oh my gosh, I thought the shelves were going to fall over! I wonder if it has anything to do with all those emergency vehicles I saw flying by here right after that. Do you think a building collapsed or something? Maybe there are a bunch of people trapped. I wonder where it happened.”
“Randy, breathe.”
“Sorry.”
“How many energy drinks did you have at lunch?”
“Just one.”
“Never again, dude.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Now, to answer your questions, yes, I’m fine. No, it wasn’t an earthquake. Yes, I know about the emergency vehicles; I’m looking at them.”
“What did you do?” he said suspiciously.
“What makes you think I did anything?”
“If there is a fire truck and an ambulance within fifty yards of you, it had to be something you did.”
I rolled my eye
s. Mike looked at me questioningly, but I just shook my head. “Someone blew up Mike’s truck.”
“Holy…are you two all right?”
“We’re fine. No one got hurt. Do you know where my parents are?”
“Making hospital calls, I think.”
“I don’t want them to hear about what happened from someone else.”
“I guarantee you if they’re at the hospital, they already know. But say no more. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Randy, I appreciate it.”
As I hung up, the phone rang. I handed it to Mike. “Penhall. Did you find her? What? Are you sure? All right. Secure the perimeter, and stay there. I’ll find a ride over there as soon as I can.”
“Did he find Pamela?”
“Reynolds says someone broke into her house. She’s gone.”
Chapter 35
I caught Randy before he left the bookstore, and twenty minutes later, he showed up with my car. Regina was right behind him in her car. “Good thing you left a spare set of keys at my store,” Randy said as he handed them to me.
“Thank you so much,” I told him, giving him a big hug.
He looked over my shoulder at what was left of Mike’s truck and whistled. “Good thing you two weren’t in there when it blew,” he said.
“Yeah, thanks for that reminder.”
“Good to see you, Randy,” Mike said, “but we’ve really got to go.”
“I’ll call you later,” I said to Randy.
I tossed the keys to Mike as we hurried over to my car. “You’re going to let me drive your precious car?”
“You know where we’re going; I don’t. I trust you.”
Pamela lived in a new subdivision on the north side of town. The beige-brick, one-story house sat in the middle of the block. Rose bushes lined the sidewalk to the front door, which stood open, the frosted glass panes shattered on the ground.
Reynolds had placed yellow crime scene tape all around the house, and the crime scene unit was already there, taking pictures and dusting for prints.
Mike and I ducked under the tape, and walked over to a young woman dressed in a white protective suit. “What’s it look like in there, Denise?” Mike said to her.
“Like a tornado went through it,” she replied, looking at me. “Hi. I’m Denise Crawford, part of the CSU unit.”