Page 63 of The Ghost Orchid


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“So where do I go with it?”

“I’d talk to the people who saw her every day.”

“The maids.”

“The help sees and hears all sorts of things. And some employers confide in them. Alone in a big house, even a woman escaping her past could’ve opened up. I just saw Irma Ruiz and she was definitely antsy.”

“Making her my target,” said Milo. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER

22

A bell-push at the March estate produced silence. Same for the second time. The third, fourth, and fifth.

I said, “Privacy, the ultimate luxury.”

Milo said, “The ultimate pain in the ass for a truth-seeker.”

He jabbed two more times. No answer. “She was edgy, huh? Maybe for good reason so she split.” Another push. Nothing. “But what about the other one—Adelita? They both cut out?”

“Fear can be contagious.”

“If they’re scared of a guy with March’s resources, hiding out’s not gonna cut it for very long.” He peered through the gate pickets. “Now what?”

“You could try talking to him,” I said. “See how he reacts to his employees being gone.”

“If he’s what they’re scared of, I’m giving him a heads-up.”

“Like you said, if he wants to find them, hiding from him will be futile. And letting him know you’re aware of their absence could help them.”

He thought about that. Pushed the button again. Cursed and yanked out his phone.


Doug March said, “What?”

“How’s it going, sir?”

“You’re not calling because you care about me. What do you want?”

“You’re out of town.”

“Columbus, Ohio,” said March. “If you must know. The Hotel LeVeque, would you like my room number? My in-room breakfast order?”

“Not necessary, sir.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“Sorry if I’m irritating you, Mr. March. I am investigating your wife’s murder.”

“Any progress on that?”

“Nothing dramatic.”

Doug March said, “In other words, you’ve got nothing. Well, that’s not going to change by talking to me. I’ve told you everything I know about my wife, which is apparently very little. In the last analysis, my ignorance is my own fault. My due diligence on properties is way better than my research on her. Which was nothing.”

Prolonged, breathy laugh. The kind of sound effect you’d get at a carnival haunted house.

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