"No, I—" She wasn't a daydreamer. She was a thinker. A doer. "I've got a lot on my mind."
"Bet you do. Thought I'd catch you before you opened up. Do you mind if we go inside?"
"No, of course not." Still fumbling, she set the watering can down and opened the door. "It's just me today. My partners are—aren't here."
"I wanted to talk to you alone. I didn't mean to spook you, Ms. Powell."
"No, that's all right." Her speeding heart seemed to have settled back to a reasonable rate. "What can I do for you, detective?"
"Actually, I just came by to catch you up on the progress of the investigation. I figured after the trouble you went through, you deserve to know how it panned out."
"Well, that makes one of you," she murmured.
"Your boyfriend nudged me toward Roger Thornhill."
"He's not my boyfriend," Kate said quickly, then set her teeth. "If you're referring to Mr. De Witt."
"I am." He smiled a bit sheepishly and tugged on his ear. "I never know how to refer to these kinds of things. Anyway, Mr. De Witt nudged me toward Thornhill. Fact is, I was already looking in that direction. You don't look shocked speechless by the news," he commented.
"I figured it out yesterday." She shrugged her shoulders, discovering it simply didn't matter any longer.
"Thought you would. Thornhill's got a little gambling problem. Gambling's one of the best reasons to need quick money."
"Roger gambles?" That did shock her. "You mean he bets on horse races, that sort of thing?"
"He bets on Wall Street, Ms. Powell. And he's been losing steady for the past couple of years. Overplayed his hand, so to speak, and lost his ante. Then there was his personal relationship with you. Then add in the information about your father and the fact that he was the one who found the newspaper article in your office and passed it to Bittle."
"Really." She nodded. "I didn't know that."
"A little too pat, to my way of thinking. Connections usually aren't coincidences in my line of work. You had a little run-in with him yesterday at Bittle."
"And how do you know about that?"
"Ms. Newman. She's got good eyes and ears, and a sharp nose." He grinned. "I asked her to report any unusual incident, officewise. She's another who didn't like the way Thorn-hill smelled, so to speak. And she stood by you from the start."
"Excuse me?" Kate tapped her ear as though her hearing had gone suddenly off. "Newman stood by me?"
"First interview I had with her on this business, she said if I was looking in your direction I was looking in the wrong one. She said Katherine Powell wouldn't steal so much as a paper clip."
"I see. I always thought she disliked me."
"I don't know whether she likes you or not, but she respects you."
"Are you going to bring Roger in for questioning, then?"
"Already have. I had to move a little quicker after I learned you'd had a face-off with him. So I paid him a little visit last night. He was already packed and on his way to the airport."
"You're kidding."
"No, ma'am. Had reservations for a flight to Rio. He's been living on the edge since you were cleared. Whatever you said to him at the office yesterday broke his nerve. He lawyered himself pretty quick, but we figure to cut a deal by the end of the day. They call this sort of thing a victimless crime. I guess that's a misnomer this time around."
"I don't feel like a victim," Kate murmured. "I don't know what I feel."
"Well, I'd feel right pissed—if you'll pardon my French. But…" He shrugged his shoulders. "His career's in the toilet, and he's goi
ng to be paying off fines and his lawyer for a long time to come. And the federal government is going to have him as their guest for a while."
"He'll go to prison." As her father would have gone to prison, she thought. For a mistake, an error in judgment. A moment of greed.