“I don’t need the name, but I do need to know if she confirmed my suspicions.”
“She did.”
“Shit.”
Loretta looked surprised. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I’m not happy at all.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The sun was out, and puffy white clouds floated through the sky when Robin drove from Portland to her meeting with Sergeant Pine and Detectives Carter and Morales, but the sunny spring weather did not cheer up Robin, and she was depressed when she met the policemen at a café in the closest town to Black Oaks.
Sergeant Pine had suggested the café as a meeting place, because he assumed that Robin would be hungry after her long ride. Robin didn’t have much of an appetite, but she wolfed down a hamburger and finished a cup of black coffee to fortify her for the ordeal to come.
“Did you ever figure out who ordered the knife?” Robin asked.
“It was made at a novelty shop in Wisconsin, but the owner was paid in cash, and he sent the box and knife to a post office box in Hood River. No one at the post office remembers who picked up the package.”
“I have a good idea who it was,” Robin said, and while she ate, Robin explained how she had figured out who had murdered Frank Melville and Justin Trent. By the time the sergeant and the detectives were ready to accompany Robin to Black Oaks, she had convinced them that the person they were going to arrest was guilty of a double homicide.
The ride up Solitude Mountain was an easy journey that afternoon. With clear skies, Robin should have enjoyed the scenic views, but all she could think about was how sad she would be on the journey back to Portland.
Sergeant Pine had called ahead, and the gate swung open shortly after he announced his presence over the intercom. Sheila Monroe was waiting at the front door when the sergeant, the detectives, Robin, and a car with a male and female deputy parked out front.
“Has there been a break in the case?” Sheila asked.
“There has,” Pine answered. “May we come in?”
“Of course. Follow me. Nelly is in the library.”
Robin and the policemen followed Sheila along the corridor past the tapestry depicting the wolf hunt.
“Nelly, the police and Robin are here,” Sheila said as she opened the library door.
Nelly was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs that bracketed the fireplace, reading a novel. A fire heated the room. Nelly placed a bookmark between the pages and stood up.
“What brings you back to Black Oaks?” she asked.
“A few things. First, I wanted to tell you that Corey Rockwell has been arrested for murdering Claire Winters, and Yousef Khan is going to be a free man.”
“Oh my God!” Nelly exclaimed. “That’s fantastic. How did you manage that?”
“I didn’t. My investigator is the hero in this story. He cracked Rockwell’s alibi by getting Tony Clark to confess that Rockwell left his bungalow to murder Claire Winters. Clark told the police that he walked back and forth in front of the window that faced Rose McIntire’s bungalow putting a black wig on and taking it off to make it look like Rockwell was with him.”
“Dad would have been so happy. Thank you, Robin.”
“There’s another reason we’re here,” Sergeant Pine said.
“Miss Lockwood thinks she knows who killed your father and Mr. Trent.”
“Have you made an arrest?” Nelly asked.
“Not yet. We wanted to talk to you and Miss Monroe before we did anything.”
“Please,” Nelly said. “How can we help?”
“I’m trying to figure out something that happened right after we discovered your father in the elevator,” Robin said.