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“What do you mean Mark Baker wouldn’t tell you anything?” Gertie spouted, after I told them about my conversations with him. “He wouldn’t say anything?”
I shook my head, “Nope.”
“But his response really made you believe something was up with her money, though?” Ida Belle asked.
“It was more his lack of response, but yes, it did,” I said. “He also seemed surprised that I didn’t already know about whatever he wouldn’t tell me.”
“To tell you the truth, I’m surprised too,” Ida Belle said. “You brought her to Mark.”
“What can we do?” Gertie asked.
“Well, I guess we can wait until the tox report comes back,” I said. “If it shows that something induced her heart attack, Carter will have a full autopsy performed and likely we can get a court order to release her financial records.”
Ida Belle listened carefully and patiently as I spoke, “So, what you are saying is . . . we should sit back and wait?”
I nodded and shrugged, “It’s one option.”
“I’m not great at waiting,” Gertie sighed.
“Me either, there must be something we can do,” Ida Belle added.
“It would make Carter happy,” I told them.
Ida Belle and Gertie looked at each other and began to laugh.
“Since when has that stopped us?” Gertie said.
I smiled. It was true, “What then?” I asked.
“You said the gardener discovered Emma’s body Saturday afternoon, but she had been dead for fifteen hours, right?” Ida Belle asked.
I nodded, “Fifteen to twenty. Right.”
“So, if there was foul play, that means whoever killed her did so on Friday evening,” Gertie said, “sometime between six and eleven o’clock.”
“Somewhere in there, yes,” I said.
Ida Belle nodded, “Emma only rarely left the house, so whoever caused the heart attack must have been with her at her house late Friday afternoon or evening.”
“Yep, that makes sense,” I said.
“I know her neighbors across the street—the Smiths,” Gertie said. “They’re about as nosy and gossipy as any couple you’d ever meet. If someone showed up at Emma’s house on Friday evening, you can bet the Smiths know it. I’ll drop by with a pie and see if they saw any visitors at Emma’s house on Friday.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ida Belle said. “I know some of her other neighbors, too. We can do a casual drop by and see if they saw anything.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “Don’t arouse suspicion, though. If there is a killer, we don’t want to alert her we’re asking questions.”
“What makes you think it’s a woman?” Gertie asked.
“That was a slip of the tongue,” I said.
“You have someone in mind, don’t you?”
“No...,” I lied. I had a person or two in mind, but didn’t want to say it, not yet.
“Aren’t you meeting Carter later at Emma’s house?” Gertie asked.
“Yes, at four o’clock.” I said. “That’s when Victor and Bessie arrive.”
“Then leave all that other stuff to us,” Ida Belle replied. “If this doesn’t work, the next step would be to break into Mark Baker’s office and get Emma’s records—find out what he was unwilling to tell you.”
I raised my eyebrows, “We would need keys, alarm codes and passwords for a break-in of that nature. That’s highly illegal?”
“Yep,” Ida Belle insisted.
“You could go to jail,” I added.
“We know,” Gertie said.
“How would you even do it?” I asked.
Gertie’s face lit up, “Remember, we did that thing when we broke into Carter’s room in Seattle to get information on Paul Pride.”
I sighed, “Gertie, may I remind you that the particular mission you refer to was not a resounding example of success. You fell flat on your face trying to get the room key and got the maid fired when Ida Belle talked her into helping us. I was the one who got the computer password, not you.”
“Those are details,” Gertie said. “We got the job done and got the housekeeper’s job back with a raise. We’ll get the job done here, too.”
I looked down and shook my head. I wanted to remind her it was also me that got the housekeeper’s job back. When Gertie tried to do it, she got thrown in jail for her troubles, after she mooned a cop. However, I was not prepared to go there.
“Whatever. Okay, you two canvass Emma’s neighborhood—see if anyone saw a visitor come and go on Friday night.”
“Roger that,” Gertie said, snapping her fingers.