Kathryn Bellamy was in her master bedroom, overseeing three men as they packed clothing into cardboard boxes, when her assistant led me to her.
I entered the room and she glanced back and said, “Miss Monroe, how are you?”
“Fine. What’s all this?”
“It’s Marshall’s moving-out party or moving-out surprise party, I should say. He doesn’t know about it yet. I expect him home in about three hours, at which point this will all be on the driveway waiting for him.”
“I see.”
“Had all the locks in the house changed out this morning too. It’s been a productive day, I tell you.”
“How do you think he’ll take it?” I asked.
“I haven’t the foggiest. If he cares about whatever remains of his reputation, he’ll slink away without incident and never come back.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then he’d better prepare to give up any ideas he has about running for election for a second term. None of this should come as a shock. I stripped him of his security detail this morning, or part of it anyway. My brother is no longer employed by Marshall. He’s employed by me. How’s your investigation going, dear?”
“The investigation is the reason I’m here. I’ve been wondering where I could find your …”
Blake Langston entered the room wearing a beach towel around his waist. “Wondering where you can find whom?”
I swallowed back my nerves and said, “Hello, Bunny.”
“I’m sorry?” he said.
“Are you?”
A puzzled Blake looked at Kathryn and then at me. “Am I missing something here?”
“I’d say so. Where’s your ring?”
“What ring?”
“The ring that matches the one you gave to Rebecca.”
“What’s going on here?” Kathryn asked.
I removed the printout of the cover of Mr. Mayberry Wins the White House and explained where I got it and what Oliver had said when he’d given the book to me.
“The first time I read the book, I thought Bunny was Marshall,” I said, “because Oliver told me Bunny gave him the book so he could do what Bunny did one day.”
“Yeah … and?” Blake said. “What’s your point?”
I held the printout up so they both could see the cover. “In the background, behind Mr. Mayberry, who else do you see?”
Kathryn bent over the book and squinted. “Looks like there’s a fellow dressed in black. What’s your point?”
“I’d say the man is part of Mr. Mayberry’s security detail,” I said.
Kathryn crossed her arms. “Are you suggesting my brother … Are you saying you believe Blake is Bunny, that he was carrying on with Rebecca? How could he if Rebecca was dating Marshall?”
“Rebecca dated Marshall for a time,” I said. “I’m suggesting she also dated your brother.”
“You need to leave,” Blake said. “Now.”
Kathryn held a hand up. “Hold on a minute, Blake. This isn’t your house.”
“She’s right,” I said. “It isn’t. Your house is located at 492 Sand Hills Drive. I know because I stopped by there before I came here. I figured one act of vandalism deserved another. Wouldn’t you agree … my tires for your house?”
“You had no right to—”
“Maybe not, but you weren’t around, and I was in the mood to do a little ring shopping. Wouldn’t you know it … I found the perfect one too, an exact match to another ring police have in evidence—a ring you gave to Rebecca. What else could I do except call the chief of police and let him know where to find it? And since the judge just happened to be at the station when I made the call, it took no time for him to execute a warrant.”
Blake stumbled backward and slumped against the wall. “It won’t work. I’ll say you planted the ring in my desk drawer, and you’ll be the one who goes to jail.”
“I never said I found the ring in your desk drawer. You did.”
Blake bowed his head, realizing he’d just been caught in a trap.
“When you said Rebecca started seeing someone else, you were telling the truth,” I said, “except the person she was seeing was you.”
“Blake, is it true?” Kathryn said, her hand on her chest. “Did you have anything to do with the Barlow woman’s death?”
“I can’t believe you’d even ask,” he said. “How could you believe her over your own brother? I never had a personal relationship with Rebecca Barlow. Marshall did. I’m being set up. A stupid ring doesn’t mean I had anything to do with her death either.”
He was right.
It didn’t tie him to any wrongdoing—yet.
Kathryn shook her head and sighed. “What does the ring look like? Can you describe it to me?”
“I can do one better. I can show it to you.”
I retrieved the picture I’d taken of the ring and handed it to her. She studied it for some time and then flipped it around to show Blake. “I see Marshall’s gift for lying has rubbed off on you, brother. I saw this ring in the ashtray of your car. You remember when I borrowed it several months ago when mine was in the shop, don’t you?”
“It isn’t what you think,” he said. “It’s Marshall’s ring, not mine.”
I approached Blake and smiled. “After Rebecca’s body was discovered, detectives found a patch of dried blood beneath a wood plank at the edge of the dock. They had no idea how long it had been there and figured it could have been anyone’s blood. I figure it’s yours. You must have cut yourself when you drowned her. I guess all I want to know now is—why? Why did you do it? Was it because she was pregnant with your baby and you didn’t want it to get out?”
Kathryn whipped her hand back and slapped her brother across the face. “You bastard! At the charity dinner when you said you were looking out for my interests, I knew it was a load of crap. After all I’ve done for you. I trusted you, and still the only interest you’ve ever looked out for is your own. Been that way ever since we were kids.”
Blake buried his head in his hands.
I bent toward the pendant pinned to my shirt and said, “Did you get all that?”
Less than a minute later, Sheppard entered the room, accompanied by two officers. He winked at me and said, “I sure did. Great job.”
I patted Blake on the shoulder. “I believe this is the part where you get arrested. And hey, thanks for telling us where to find the ring. I’m sure Chief Sheppard appreciates the heads-up. I know I do.”