Fool's Puzzle by Earlene Fowler (reading eggs books .TXT) 📕

“I can’t. It cost you four hundred dollars. There must be someone you want to give it to.”

“There is. Now take it or else Ashley sleeps with it.” Ashley was his Airedale terrier.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Jack was my best friend. I know this Christmas is going to be hard for you. Think of it as sort of a present from him too.” He shoved it at me and looked down at the ground.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “You’re a good friend, Carl Freedman.”

“Yeah, well, sorry I barked at you earlier.”

I hugged the quilt to my cheek and looked intently into his glassy eyes. “It’s all right. Are you okay to drive? I lost one guy already. I don’t want to lose another.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “You worry too much. Come by the paper and I’ll take you to lunch.”

“I will, real soon.”

After he left, I set the quilt down on the counter and turned to go through the museum to the studios to lock up.

“What was it you had to show me?” Ortiz stepped suddenly from around the corner, causing me to jump at the sound of his voice.

“Someone should put a bell around your neck,” I said, my stomach instantly tightening with anxiety. I glanced around at the caterers still cleaning up. They and Ortiz were the only people left. Safety in numbers, I told myself. He couldn’t pistol-whip me with witnesses around.

“It’s up here,” I said, sighing. As we started up the stairs, the man in charge of the catering staff asked me a question about the equipment.

“The first room on the right,” I told Ortiz. “Look in the last drawer in the old oak dresser. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I was in the middle of haggling with the catering supervisor about two damaged chairs when Ortiz came barreling down the stairs, a look on his face vicious enough to fell a herd of elephants.

“Are you out of your mind?” he said in a voice as close to a snarl as I’d ever heard.

“What?” I looked up, surprised at his overreaction.

“I’ve had it with you,” he said. “I’ll find something to charge you with if I have to sit up all night with the D.A. myself.”

He pushed past me into the lobby, punched some numbers into the phone and started snapping orders in a low voice. Slamming down the receiver, he turned to me and said in a barely controlled voice:

“Explain.”

“What are you so upset about? I found it when I was looking for some picture frames this afternoon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew you’d ruin the auction and we’d worked so hard on it.”

“You knew about it this whole time?” His mouth literally dropped open. “You’re nuts. You’re unbelievable.”

“What’s the big deal, Ortiz? It could have been there for months. We don’t know for certain it has to do with Marla’s murder.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The money. What are you talking about?”

His fingers dug into my upper arm like giant crab pincers as he practically dragged me up the wooden stairs. He opened the door to the room where I’d found the money and shoved me in.

Lying in the middle of the small room, his head in a pool of what looked like dark red ink, lay Eric.

“I ... I ...” Pushing my way past Ortiz, I stumbled down the stairs with him in close pursuit.

“Well?” he asked.

I collapsed in the chair behind the counter in the lobby. “I feel sick.”

“You can get sick later. I want an explanation.”

“You can’t really believe I knew about this.” I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

“What am I suppose to believe? You sent me up there.”

“To find a plastic baggie of money. I didn’t know he was up there.” The edges around my eyes started to go black; I bent over and tried to keep from fainting.

“Look at me,” he said, pulling me back up. “What money?”

“You’re a creep, you know that?” I pulled my shoulder out of his grasp. “I feel awful.”

“Not as awful as your friend upstairs. What money?”

“I found a plastic baggie full of money. I think it was a gallon size, although it could have been a quart. I didn’t really measure it. It looked ...” I heard myself start to babble but couldn’t stop.

“That’s it?” he said.

“Yes, that’s it. What did you think? That I walked around all night knowing that Eric was lying up there? What kind of person do you think I am?” Anger started to overcome shock. My stomach stopped rolling but my head started to hurt.

“That is a question that has kept me up nights. What time did you find the money?”

“About five o‘clock or maybe a little before. I didn’t exactly look at the clock.” I pressed on my left temple. It was pounding so bad I would have sold my hair for three aspirin.

He ran a hand over his face in frustration. He was standing there, glaring in my general direction, when four uniformed officers burst into the lobby.

He pointed a finger at me. “Stay put.” Then he turned and started giving orders in a sharp voice.

I grabbed the quilt Carl gave me off the counter, cradled it in my lap and rested my head on it. Inhaling deeply, I willed myself not to throw up. I closed my eyes, saw Eric’s head in the dark puddle, and opened them again. In a half hour, the museum was a clone of four days before with technicians and uniforms everywhere. Ortiz seemed to have forgotten about me as he supervised the crime scene. My luck ran out when he walked back over.

“Go home,” he said in a voice cold enough to freeze ice cream. “I don’t have time for you tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I can’t,” I protested. “I have to lock up.”

“Give me your keys. I’ll lock up.”

“And how will I get in tomorrow?” I don’t know why I was fighting him, leaving was exactly what I wanted to do.