Lacey handed Captain Dougherty the eight-by-ten photo of Erasmus Jones. “This is his father. You might want to distribute this photo.”
“They sure do look alike. You think his old man might really be in on this thing? Do you think he’s the ohe helping
Marlin?”
“We have no idea. We don’t even know if he’s dead or alive. It’s just an idea, something we can sink our teeth into.” They rose. “We’re going back home, Captain, Keep us informed and good luck.”
“Douglas told me he’s being followed. Damn you, this has got to stop.”
Candice Madigan spoke angrily from behind them as Savich was unlocking his front door.
Lacey’s hand was already on her Lady Colt, Savich was already in a crouch. He took a deep breath. “I suggest you never do anything like that again, ma’am. Sherlock could have shot you and I could have broken your neck. May I inquire what the hell you’re doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“How did you know I’d be here?” Lacey asked, stepping directly under the porch light.
Savich unlocked the door and shoved it open. “Everyone might as well come inside. You first, Mrs. Madigan. I’d just as soon keep you in front of me.” He said over his shoulder, “I hope you have frequent flier miles. What is this? Your second or third trip to Washington?”
“Of course I have frequent flier miles,” she said. “Do you think I’m a fool?”
If Candice was blown away by the inside of Savich’s house, she didn’t show it. Her eyes never left Lacey. “Did you hear me, Lacey? I know it’s not the San Francisco cops. Judge Sherlock called in and found that out for me. So it has to be the FBI following him. It’s your doing, isn’t it? No, you don’t have that kind of authority.” She turned on Savich. “You’d do anything for little miss sweetness, wouldn’t you? Even have my husband followed. Are you trying to blame Douglas for Belinda’s murder? Stop it, he’s going nuts. I won’t have it.”
“You know,” Savich said easily, waving Candice into the living room, “when you pause to think a bit, Douglas had a very good motive for killing Belinda. He wanted out of the marriage but she wouldn’t give him a divorce. He knew if he tried to get one that Judge Sherlock would have ruined him. He was trapped. So he used the String Killer’s M.O. and killed her. What do you think? Sound good?”
Candice lunged at him.
He caught her wrists and held her away from him. She kicked at him. He quickly turned to the side. Then he began shaking her, saying in his low calm voice, “Stop it, Mrs. Madigan. For a woman of some sophistication, you’re not playing the part.”
“Give her to me,” Lacey said. “I’m sick of you, Candice. You want to fight, then come here. I’d love to take you down.”
“You’d wreck my living room,” Savich said, looking at a red-faced Sherlock, and smiled. “Will you try to keep some control, Mrs. Madigan? I’ll protect you from Sherlock if you’ll mind your manners. Will you?” Slowly, she nodded. Savich let her go. She stood there, rubbing her wrists. Then, slowly, she turned to face Lacey, but she said over her shoulder to Savich, “Did it ever occur to you that she killed Belinda? Talk about crazy, just look at her family. Every gene coursing through her is nuts, just plain nuts.”
There was dead silence except for Candice’s heavy breathing.
“Well? What do you have to say to that?” Lacey smiled, an awesome feat she told Savich later, but she managed it. “Candice, why are you really here?”
“I told you, someone’s following Douglas. It’s got to be the FBI. I want it stopped. So I came to make you do it.”
Lacey said, “Why didn’t you just call? It sure would have been cheaper. No answer to that? Just maybe you wanted to hire that guy again to terrorize me? Maybe you wanted to try to run me down again?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. As for you,” she continued, looking at Savich, “you’re blind. Douglas was too, but just for a little while. Now he realizes what she is.” Can-dice gave them a triumphant smile and sat down on the beautiful sofa. “Well?”