Page 63

“Yeah. More than I saw. But not much.” Beau reached his hand out to Archie. “Come on. I’ve got to get your statement and call this in.”

Archie gripped Beau’s hand, conscious of the warmth of Beau’s skin, the hard strength of his grip. He rose, wincing, and accepted Beau’s help regaining his feet.

“And here I always thought you were the smart one,” Beau remarked.

“Everything’s relative.”

With a briskness he did not feel, Archie led the way down the drive back to the kitchen entrance. He was limping a little, his muscles were already stiffening in protest, but the fact that he was not flat on his back was a huge improvement over the past week.

“I’ll tell you what,” Archie said over his shoulder as they walked up the backdoor steps. “It wasn’t Arlo. It wasn’t Azizi. It wasn’t Leo.”

“Leo?” Beau sounded surprised. “Leo Baker? What made you think of Leo?”

“Nothing. I’m just running through everyone—every male—in John’s case file. I think this was someone familiar with the layout of the house, with John’s study.” Archie pushed open the screen door and they walked into the kitchen.

Beau’s dark brows shot up as he studied the poker a few steps from the doorway, the overturned chair and trash-strewn table. What he said was, “John left Baker a vintage carved wood panel of ducks and that winter landscape painting that used to hang over the fireplace in his study. Not exactly a compelling motive for murder.”

“No. Agreed.” Archie handed over the plastic bag with the envelope addressed to John.

“I wonder what our mystery guy made of this.” Beau meant the pile of trash on the table, not the plastic baggie. He barely glanced at the envelope in the bag.

“He wasn’t looking for the envelope because the baggie holding it was lying here in plain sight.”

Beau grunted.

Archie unobtrusively braced himself with a hand on the table. “I think the most likely candidate for tonight’s intruder is Jon Monig.”

Beau did not look surprised. Or convinced. “Do you? Because I think there’s a high probability that this was an attempted burglary perpetrated by someone otherwise unconnected to the case. Everybody in this town knows there’s no one staying at this house right now. And that the place is full of a lot of expensive items that would be easy to liquidate.”

“Yes. That’s possible.”

“It’s probable. Hell, it could even have been a teenager wanting to get an inside peek at the murder house.”

Archie shrugged. “I don’t think it was a kid. The offender’s height and build is right for Monig. This was someone in decent shape, but not as fast or agile as an adolescent male.”

“I don’t know about that. He was making damn good time sprinting down streets and scaling fences.”

“A possible five years for second degree burglary is pretty motivating. Monig’s familiar enough with the house and garden.”

Beau frowned. “You’re saying you’d feel confident in making a positive ID?”

“No. Of course not. Although, if the offender is Monig, I bet he’s going to have one hell of a bruise on his back within a few hours.”

“Him and someone else I know. If I were you, I’d sit down.”

Archie ignored that. “What if it wasn’t attempted burglary, per se? If Monig really does believe that John was his father, maybe he came looking for some kind of proof or validation?”

Beau tipped his head, considering. He said unwillingly, “Like what?”

“A confession? An alternate birth certificate? A Dear Jon letter? I don’t know. But his insistence that John was his father wasn’t rational, so maybe his idea of evidence isn’t grounded in reality, either.”

“Maybe.”

“I’m sure Mila knows about the safe in John’s study, which means her son would likely know as well.”

Beau said, “Then he was in for a disappointment. We went through John’s safe. There was nothing in there relating to Mila or Jon Monig.”

Archie stilled as that registered.