Brigitte froze.
“Tean,” Jem said, the name sharp.
Tean slipped past Brigitte.Jem was pointing at the carpet.
Water beaded on the thick pile.It only took Tean a moment to trace the outline of a shoe.
“They came in through the slider,” Jem said in a low voice, and he pointed.“I could get that thing open with a butter knife, and anyway, there’s water in the tracks.”
“But what—” Brigitte said.And then she stopped.“It’s gone.”
“What?”Jem asked.“What’s gone?”
“His briefcase.”
13
From the hallway, Jem and Tean had a view of the main area of the chalet.Brigitte had gone back to her room; she didn’t feel well, she said.She needed to lie down.
Stephen, they had discovered after emerging from Gerald’s bedroom, was gone.
“And his briefcase is missing,” Jem said under his breath.
Tean stirred next to him.After a moment, he said, “Do you think one of them did it?”
Jem studied the people still gathered there—four men now, and the two women.A couple of them clearly came from money.The rest of them were in that solidly middle-class slot that a lot of Mormons fell into: young professionals, probably at least one lawyer in the bunch.The women’s hair and clothes and makeup all were in line with Utah trends, which meant they paid attention and had the money—or at least the credit cards—necessary to keep it all up.None of them looked like a killer, but that didn’t really mean anything.
“Maybe,” Jem said.But he answered himself by saying, “But why?”
“Whoever it was, he—or she—wanted something in that briefcase,” Tean said.
“Whatever Gerald printed out,” Jem said.
Tean nodded.“It might be something embarrassing or shameful, something that they were afraid Gerald would reveal.Or it might be something criminal.”
“So, what?Gerald found out one of them liked getting spanked, so they killed Gerald rather than let everyone find out about the Secret of the Red Bum?”
Tean gave him a look.
“Come on, that was pretty funny,” Jem said.
The look lasted a few more seconds before Tean said, “I don’t know that we’ll get anything useful out of them in a group.How do you want to handle this?”
“Do you have a notebook?A piece of paper?Something?”
Tean nodded.He produced a small notebook from his front pocket.He hesitated, opened the notebook, and removed something that he slid back into his pocket.He was too quick—and careful—for Jem to see what it was.
“And a pen?”Jem asked.Like that strange moment hadn’t happened.
Tean did have a pen.Of course.
“Here we go,” Jem said.
They sat at the breakfast bar.Jem opened the notebook, flattened it against the marble, and uncapped the pen.He watched the group for a few minutes.And then he wrote at the top of the next pageThe Secret of the Red Bum.Below that, he sketched a pair of cheeks.Then he added some heat lines radiating off them, so youknewthey’d just gotten tanned.
“Jem,” Tean said, and he sounded the way he did when Jem asked for extra sauce on his Big Mac.
“You have to admit the heat lines are dope.And I came up with that on the spot, babe.”
