In Between by Kate Wilhelm

said, nodding toward the hall door.
    Sam shuffled the papers together and stuffed the manuscript into the too-small folder. He put it back in the suitcase and was pushing the case into the closet when the door opened and two housekeepers entered.
    â€œLet’s beat it,” Sam said. “Someplace where we can think. I want to throw stones or something.”
    Lori nodded, and they left the suite, then paused at the stairs to the ground. “Over there,” Lori said, pointing to the start of the forest that edged the front lawn of the resort. “We can keep an eye on things and have a little privacy.”
    Minutes later, sitting in shade, with a clear view of the resort and the helicopter parked on the lawn, Lori said, “It doesn’t mean he killed Vicente, you know. He could have picked up the manuscript early this morning, or even during the night. It’s not the smoking gun they keep talking about.”
    Sam agreed. “I just can’t figure out a motive. Vicente practically adopted him when Alex refused to join the company. He was Vicente’s right hand, his go-to guy, his heir apparent, climbing the corporate ladder in the approved manner, married his boss’s daughter. All those good things. Why? Vicente was his ticket to top management.”
    â€œLet’s go at it from a different angle,” Lori said. “We know Vicente was working at twelve thirty. Later, Marilyn Vicente went looking for him and she saw Cruella and Cal together. Royce said he was with Stuart, somewhere else. Alex was still in his room presumably. But he said when he began to walk around, doors were opening and closing, people coming, going, keeping out of sight. He assumed that his father had gone to bed and left the manuscript on the desk. Everyone else claims they were in their rooms, in bed, windows and doors closed. No one heard a shot, but he was up and about, why didn’t he hear the shot?”
    â€œHe could have been taking stuff to his car,” Sam said. “He saw the manuscript, realized it was pointless to try to talk to his father, and prepared for an early exit this morning.”
    â€œRoyce saw him,” Lori said slowly. “And Royce, who also didn’t hear a shot, ended up with the manuscript.” She picked a blade of grass and began to chew on it. A moment later she threw it away with a frown. “What I really want is some bacon and sausage.”
    â€œListen up,” Sam said after a prolonged silence. He caught her hand and held it. “You said try it from a different angle. I’ve been doing that. Royce sees Alex going to the parking lot. You want to relax, you take off a suit, shoes, tie, but not necessarily your shirt. So there he was in a white shirt, jeans that would have looked black. Royce has stashed the rifle somewhere and gets it, then goes hunting. He goes to the corner of the walkway, turns, heading for the main stairs down, the closest stairs to his suite. Just before he turns the corner, Vicente goes out through the main door, and heads for the far end. Stuffy inside, too warm. He’d taken off his suit jacket. Royce sees the white shirt and black pants walking toward the end of the walkway and he thinks he has his chance. Dim light, white shirt, black pants, dark hair. Bingo. Alex. He follows a few more steps, passes the hotel entrance, sees that his target has stopped walking, a perfect and easy shot, and he fires. The victim goes down. Royce doesn’t have to make sure of anything. He’s a crack shot. Wipe the rifle, dump it in the bushes, go inside and across the lobby to the office, maybe to tell Vicente their problem is solved. The office is empty. He assumes, exactly as Alex did, that Vicente has gone to bed and left the manuscript, but he knows there will be a hubbub in the morning and someone else might get to the manuscript first, and he can’t risk that. He takes it and goes back to his own room.”
    Lori