Diane Vallere - Style & Error 03 - The Brim Reaper by Diane Vallere Page A

the hat.”
    Eddie went pale under his tan. “Don’t remind me.”
    “I’m just thinking out loud here, but if somebody shot him, maybe nobody heard it because there was another explanation for the sound. Like Bubble Wrap popping.”
    “I didn’t hear anything that night. Did you?”
    “No, but we were upstairs. Maybe the acoustics aren’t so good up there?”
    “It’s a museum with marble floors and stairs. The only fabric in the whole building are the T-shirts they sell in the gift area. If there was any kind sound, we would have heard it.”
    “What about the light fixture? What if that was a distraction? We wouldn’t have heard anything else when that fell.”
    Eddie’s eyes moved to the left and the right as he thought about it. “That was a couple of hours before we found the body.”
    “But we don’t know how long the body was there. And the air conditioning was on too. Like someone wanted to keep his body cold and confuse the time of death.”
    “So you think someone killed him that afternoon?”
    “What about Thad? He came to the museum to see what had happened. What if he committed the murder, knowing he’d arranged for the light fixture to fall so he could join us and look like he wasn’t anywhere near the admissions office?”
    Eddie pushed what was left of his brown rice around on his plate. “Just yesterday Thad told me Dirk wanted out of his contract. Dirk said urgent personal business came up and he couldn’t fulfill his commitment.”
    “If that’s true, then why was he fighting with Christian? Why did he storm out and say the exhibit was cursed? Why did Christian tell him he was fired?”
    “Here’s another one. Why would Thad lie to me?” Eddie asked.
    I could think of one very good reason.
     

13
    Before I had a chance to answer, the sofa rang. I mean, the phone under the delicately placed white afghan that hid the bald spot on the gray flannel sofa Eddie bought me at a visual sale at Tradava rang. I answered.
    “This is Thad Thomas. May I speak with Eddie Adams, please?”
    “He’s not available,” I said, using my best kill-them-with-kindness voice. “Can I give him a message?”
    “I’m sure he is available, he’s waiting for my call. I’m certain he would like to talk to me about museum matters. I’ll hold while you find him and tell him that I’m waiting to speak to him.”
    What a charming guy.
    I carried the phone back to the kitchen and held it out to Eddie. “It’s my new friend, Thad, from the museum. He wants to talk to you.” I pressed my hand over the bottom of the phone. “Don’t trust him. Remember what you just asked me.”
    Eddie took the phone. “Hey. Yeah. Where? Okay. Later.”
    “Whoa,” I said when he hung up. “What’s Thad doing with my number? And what’s he doing calling you here at my house? Why isn’t he calling your cell phone? And how does he even know you’re here?”
    “I told him I dropped my cell in water and it’s sitting in rice.”
    “Did you?”
    “No, but I needed an excuse for why I’m not answering my cell.”
    What did he want?”
    “If I still had the keys to the museum.”
    “And you said …?” I swear it was like pulling teeth.
    “I said yes. I couldn’t say no, could I?”
    There wasn’t time to address Eddie’s ignorance of the acceptable times to lie. I reached for my wine and took a sip.
    “He wants to meet tonight. Go over a few details and figure out a schedule for me to keep working. Is that cool with you?”
    I choked and set the glass back down. After I got the coughing under control, I said, “Five minutes ago. Here. We had a conversation. Were you not listening? Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for you to meet up with Thad. Especially now that he knows you never dropped off the keys. Don’t you think it’s a little weird that he wants to get you back to the scene of the crime? Alone? At night?”
    “He’s trying to help with the exhibit.”
    “Are you sure? Thad has