Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

didn’t want to knock and wake up the baby, so I quietly opened their door. They had fashioned a temporary bed for Lily by pulling out one of the wide dresser drawers from the bureau. It was padded with sheets and it sat on the floor by the side of their bed.
    The baby was sound asleep and Vinnie and Suzie were both stretched out crosswise on the bed, watching every little breath she took. They were so caught up in their new daughter, they didn’t even notice me.
    Smiling, I closed the door, then went downstairs to find Sandra Parish and Officer Rodriguez finishing breakfast and about to take off for San Francisco.
    Last night, Merrilee, the wonder woman, had fixed up a room for the two women to spend the night. They looked rested and ready for the long drive back to the city.
    They both gave me their business cards to pass alongto Suzie and Vinnie. Then I accompanied them out to their car.
    As the women drove away, the front door opened and Gabriel and Kiki walked out.
    “It’s colder than I thought it would be,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.
    “Go back inside,” Gabriel said. “I don’t want you catching a cold.”
    She smiled up at him and some kind of wordless communication passed between them. “Go on,” he said. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    “Okay, but hurry.” She scurried back inside and closed the door.
    “I guess you two had that talk,” I said.
    “Yeah,” he muttered, but refused to satisfy my curiosity further. Instead, he glanced around and said, “This is as good a time as any to look for signs of Fowler.”
    I knew it was useless to pry, but I took it as a personal victory that he looked so happy and relaxed this morning.
    “Let’s do it,” I said.
    The two of us walked around the yard, conducting what Gabriel called a perimeter search. We were looking for any signs that Stephen might have been dragged off or maybe just wandered away on his own.
    I pointed toward the row of cars parked at the far edge of the back driveway. “Do we know what kind of car he drove?”
    “I asked Grace. She said he drives an old silver Cadillac.”
    “For real? A silver Cadillac?” Of course he did.
    “Yeah. Guess he’s old-school when it comes to cars.”
    “He’s old, anyway,” I grumbled. That wasn’t fair, though, since Fowler wasn’t much older than my own parents. But I guess what my father was always saying was true. You really were as young as you felt. Stephen had to feel a thousand years old, he was such a crotchety geezer.
    It was easy to pick out the classic Cadillac, with its garish fins and wide, shiny grill, from the line of cars.
    “At least we know he hasn’t driven off somewhere.”
    We approached the car cautiously. I didn’t know what I was expecting to find. After what Suzie and Vinnie had said about me at dinner the night before, the expectation of the other guests was that I would be the one to find the dead body of Stephen Fowler. And then I would identify the killer, handcuff him, and toss him over my shoulder to carry him off to jail. Super Brooklyn.
    But the car was empty.
    I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
    “Where is this guy?” I wondered, and turned in a circle to scan the larger area surrounding Grace’s mansion. “Could he still be somewhere inside the house?”
    “That’s my guess.” Gabriel cupped his hands over his eyes to block the sun’s glare as he bent over and stared through the windows of the car. Finally he straightened up. “Nothing helpful in there.”
    “Where to next?”
    His eyes narrowed as he looked around, then pointed toward the water. “Grace’s property extends down to the shoreline and deep into the woods, and includes hundreds of yards of shorefront on both sides of the house. It’s a few dozen acres at least.”
    “We can’t possibly search it all,” I said. “We’ll have to call in the police.”
    “He hasn’t been missing much longer than twelve hours,” Gabriel said as we walked back to the house. “But you’re right. That doesn’t matter. We’ve already had one murder and one attempted murder. If we don’t find him today, we’ll need to call the police to come out to conduct a wider search.”
    “They should’ve come back here by now, anyway. We’ve kept the séance room locked all week in case they need to search it for more evidence. But how can they collect any viable evidence at this late date?”
    And would you listen to me? I guess I’d learned