The papers Sylvia told me to tear up.
Why hadn’t I thought about it?
That torn piece of paper I had found had been ripped off something that could possibly identify the person it was meant for, and that person could be the murderer or know what Struthers’s had been up to. All I had to do was find the piece it went to.
I bet my dad thought of it too, though he would need a search warrant and there wasn’t enough evidence to warrant one.
That wouldn’t stop me since I knew the owner of the lodge.
I grabbed my cell and hit Ian’s name. He didn’t answer which meant he was on a shoot, so I left a message.
“Ian, I’m headed over to your place. I need to go through your garbage.”
19
I underestimated my dad and forgot we thought alike. He had a couple of his officers already going through the garbage by the time I arrived.
“One phone call had Ian cooperating quite nicely,” my dad said with a smug grin.
He knew me well, and then there was my old jeans and sweatshirt I was wearing that probably confirmed my intentions of dumpster diving.
“As long as I’m here, I could help,” I offered.
“My men have it in hand,” my dad said with a wider grin and stuck his hand out.
I reluctantly dug my hand into my jean pocket and pulled out the torn piece of paper I found last night and handed it to him.
“Don’t you have work to do?” my dad asked which meant he expected me to leave.
I planted my hands on my hips and eyed him suspiciously. “Not going to share what you find are you?”
“This is not a little lost and found case. It’s murder and I don’t want to jeopardize the chain of evidence and see the murderer get away because I didn’t do my job right.”
“When you put it that way,” I said and gave him a smile and a wave as I walked away.
I was about to head back to my place when a thought struck me. What if the other part of the paper never made it to the garbage? What if it was still in the room where I had found the small piece? My dad and I both had assumed that the piece had fallen loose before the rest of the paper was tossed away. Or had it been? Could the paper still be in that room somewhere?
There was no way I could leave without satisfying my curiosity. I thought about telling my dad, but he was busy with the garbage and if I didn’t find anything he would have pulled men away for nothing. This time, however, if I did find something, I’d leave it where it was—though stand guard over it—and call him ASAP.
I made my way into the lodge. There was a lot of activity going on, mostly construction. I was pleased to see that the massive room that greeted you when you entered was in the process of being restored to its glory days, with updates of course.
I scooted past everyone, no one stopping me and hoped to avoid running into any of the models. I just wanted to get in and out.
I wasn’t so lucky.
“Hey there, Rocky.”
I turned around to Thad laughing and looking mighty good in a tuxedo, the white dress shirt opened to expose his muscled chest.
“You really landed a good one on Beau. His jaw is swollen, and he can’t do any shoots until it clears.”
I felt terrible. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t. He’s taking full advantage of it. He’s got that hot friend of yours cooking supper for him tonight,” Thad said and suddenly I didn’t feel sorry for Beau anymore.
“Ian’s at a shoot,” Thad said.
“I think I lost an earring last night and I wanted to go see if I can find it.” The lost earring tale was always the most believable one to tell men.
“Have at it,” Thad said. “I’ve got a shoot.”
He went one way, and I went the other. It took me a few minutes to locate the room. I thought it might not seem as spooky as last night, but I was wrong. Not that spooky frightened me—well okay sometimes it did—it was that with so much construction material and boxes piled on top of boxes that anyone could be hiding anywhere. Though why someone would want to hide here didn’t seem reasonable and that thought put me at ease. As did the window that was allowing light to come through even though it was a gray day.
I began searching around along the floor, on top of boxes, behind things, and came up empty handed. The piece of paper probably went out with the trash and my dad would no doubt find it. I was about to give up when I realized I had neglected to look in the corner by the window. I bent over a couple of stacked boxes, then stooped down to look along the side, but found nothing.