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Desi was right about that. Something had changed between Priscilla and Leo after the séance. “Do you think it’s possible there was a sudden draft from beneath the door?”

“It’s possible.”

“Me, neither.” Despite the drinks they’d both consumed that evening, she pulled neatly up at the curb in front of McCabe House. Nothing sobered you up like having the wits scared out of you.

Archie reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride home.”

Desi nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the funeral.”

“Yes. Good night.” He got out of the car. “Drive safely.” He slammed shut the door and waved to her.

Desi waved back and pulled away from the curb.

Archie watched her drive off, then he cut across the grass to the drive, going around the side of the house, and cutting through the garden.

The air felt cool and damp. The sprinklers had been on, and the leaves and bushes glistened in the moonlight. Tiny lights glittered in the trees and bushes, reflecting on the damp stone as he wound his way through the shrubs and topiaries. The frogs were croaking in four-part harmony, as fervent as a gospel choir. Water drops splashed Archie’s face and hair as he strode up the flagstones to the second level.

When he reached the entrance to the gazebo, he hesitated, remembering.

The faintest smell of crime scene chemicals seemed to linger, though more likely that was his imagination. After a moment he sat down on the stone steps and gazed unseeingly over the garden.

Maybe Jacqueline McCabe would pop in and he could run the events of the night past her. He snorted at his own thoughts.

A short while later he saw the headlights of Beau’s SUV sweep up the drive. Not long after, he heard Beau’s boots on the flagstones. Beau’s shadow fell across the path and a moment later stepped out of the shadows. He joined Archie on the steps.

“Hi,” Archie said.

“Hi.” Beau put his arm around Archie and kissed him. “How was dinner?”

“No expense was spared.”

Beau grunted. “How was the séance?”

“Interesting.”

Beau regarded him. “In what way?”

Instead of answering, Archie said, “Before we went into dinner, Leo spent a few minutes preparing me for the news that my inheritance might be a few million less than I was led to believe.”

“A few million? What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure yet. One thing it means is I’ve got to hire a forensic accountant to go over the books.”

“Leo’s not going to like that.”

“No.”

Beau said slowly, “You think Leo was embezzling from John’s investment accounts?”

“I don’t want to. But. Leo did his unsubtle best to suggest John was paying Jon Monig blackmail money to keep quiet about being his illegitimate son.”

Beau considered for a moment. He said finally, “I’m trying to come up with a scenario where that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

Beau was quiet again, thinking. “I thought you were convinced Monig killed John.”

Archie let out a long sigh. “I am. Leo never went outside on the night of the Ghost Walk.”