Desert Winter by Michael Craft Page B

table, “do you recognize this?”
    Pea gave a decisive nod. “That’s the key to Stewart’s Biedermeier desk, which someone borrowed. When they returned it, they forgot to—” Pea stopped short. Something had clicked. He asked, “ What’s your name, Detective?”
    â€œKnoll.” Larry smiled. “Grant is my brother.”
    â€œWell, I’ll be damned. You two sure don’t dress alike, but yeah, I can see the resemblance. What a coincidence that you should end up here. ”
    Butting in, I explained, “Truth is, Pea, it’s not a coincidence. I’m the common link. Grant is my neighbor, and he introduced me to Larry. When I found Stewart this afternoon, the first thing I did was phone Larry.”
    â€œAh.” Pea’s tone was colored by a lingering shade of confusion.
    Getting back on track, Larry said to Pea, “So Grant borrowed the desk, and when he returned it yesterday, he forgot the key. Claire tells me that Grant’s friend Kane volunteered to bring the key back this morning.”
    â€œI do recall that.” Pea tapped the bagged key. “So the kid must have been here.”
    â€œDid you happen to see him, or maybe his car, when you came home at nine-thirty to check on Stewart?”
    â€œNo, there was no one here. Stewart was alone.”
    â€œHow about the key? Did you notice it? We found it in Stewart’s breast pocket.”
    With a tiny sigh, Pea said, “Sorry.”
    Larry flipped back through his pad. “All right. The note from the nurse, Bonnie Bahr.” He showed it to Pea. “Does this look like her writing?”
    â€œWell, that snip, ” said Pea, indignant, hand to hip. “I warned her about her abusive manner with Stewart, and here she is, at it again, calling him an old goat. Really!” He shoved the note aside. “That’s Bonnie, all right.”
    â€œI understand she routinely made pink fluff for Stewart.”
    Pea stuck a finger down his throat.
    I reminded him, “Stewart seemed to enjoy it.”
    â€œYes,” Pea conceded, “Stewart loved the stuff. Poor Stewart. I suppose I should thank Bonnie. Unless…” He trailed off suggestively.
    Larry asked, “Unless what?”
    â€œUnless Bonnie used the pink fluff as … as bait, as an excuse to see him alone today.”
    I asked, “Why would she do that?”
    Pea shrugged. “It’s as good a theory as any.”
    Larry reminded him, “But I’m assuming that Stewart’s death was an accident. Are you suggesting otherwise?”
    â€œUh … well, no, of course not.” Pea fell awkwardly silent. Glancing down, he noticed the mess on his clothes. His eyes bulged, as if he didn’t remember groveling in the kitchen.
    The coroner’s crew had arrived, wheeling a gurney in from the garage.
    Larry continued, “Then it’s safe to say that when you returned home at nine-thirty, you didn’t see Bonnie.”
    Pea repeated, “There was no one here. Stewart was alone.”
    Larry summarized, “Stewart was here all morning. You came and went. And it’s reasonable to conclude that both Bonnie Bahr and Kane Richter were here at some point. Do you know of anyone else who might have come to the house today?”
    Pea shook his head. “Mondays are generally quiet. The pool boy comes later this afternoon, but otherwise, no other help.”
    â€œThe gate is electronically monitored, right?”
    Pea snapped his fingers. “Of course! I forgot. We’ve never had trouble in the past, so I hardly give the security system a second thought. But sure, there’s a camera at the gate, and it records a time-stamped video photo of the license plate of every car that enters.”
    â€œAnd when they exit?”
    â€œI don’t think so. Whoever designed this setup must have figured that since there’s only one entrance, that’s the