He nodded. “And Marjorie came running. That’s when I had a couple minutes alone there in her den and that’s when . . .” Color shot up his neck, and even the tips of his ears burned red. “I was in there by myself,” Ray said. “And I was waiting for Marjorie to get back and I was just standing there by the desk. And that’s when I saw it.”
“Saw—?”
Before I could even finish my sentence, Ray leapt up off the couch and went into the den. Apparently old people can move pretty fast when they want to. I told myself not to forget it, and just in case he was planning to come back into the living room with some kind of weapon, I got up, too, and edged over to the door.
He was back in a jiffy and he picked his way through the junk on the floor and handed me a—
“Credit card?” I turned it over in my hands.
Ray nodded. “It was on Marjorie’s desk next to her computer along with a printout from an auction site. You know, one of those places that specializes in historical artifacts. You know she was addicted to Garfield memorabilia, and apparently, she always had her eye out for new things. This particular site had an auction in progress. Marjorie had one of their offerings circled. It was a paperweight and the bottom of it was etched with an excerpt of one of President Garfield’s speeches. In Japanese.”
“And she wanted to buy it?” Impossible to understand, but I couldn’t let that distract me. “So you were in the den and Marjorie and I were out here. And you found the credit card and the listing about the paperweight and—”
“And I realized she was going to buy it. The paperweight, I mean. She had underlined the parts of the printout that said what time the auction closed. Exactly eleven fifty-nine that night we were both here.”
“And so Marjorie had her credit card out, all set to get in on the auction at the last minute and scoop up the paperweight.” It was pretty obvious, so I wasn’t exactly happy when Ray shook his head.
“You almost got it right,” he said. “But not exactly. I don’t doubt she was planning on using that credit card to get in on the auction and buy the paperweight. But look at it, Pepper. It’s not hers.”
“Not hers?” I took another look at the credit card and my heart bumped against my ribs.
Ray was right. Marjorie Klinker’s name was nowhere on the card. Somebody named Bernard O’Banyon’s was.
I looked from the card to Ray. “So who’s this Bernard guy?”
He shrugged.
“And why did Marjorie have his credit card?”
Another shrug.
“And do you suppose this has anything to do with her murder?”
This time, he didn’t even bother to shrug, and I couldn’t blame him. I was reaching. We both knew it.
“I want you to know, I never meant to do anything with the card. But there I was with it in my hands. And she was out here lecturing you. That voice of hers, that attitude, it was like a knife inside me, twisting and twisting. It brought up the whole, ugly situation all over again and I . . . well, I can’t say what happened. I guess I went a little crazy.”
Ray was too upset to stand still. He kicked the stolen framed piece of railroad station tile out of the way and paced out the distance to the den and back again.
“This is the first really dishonest thing I’ve done in my whole life,” he said. “And the only explanation I have is that Marjorie made me do it. You see . . .” When he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I took that credit card. Slipped it in my pocket, just like that. Before Marjorie got back in the room. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I just really meant it to be a joke, you know? I thought about how Marjorie would go into the den right before that auction was set to close. Then I pictured how she wouldn’t be able to find that credit card, and how she’d be madder than a wet hen. It was cruel, I know, and a cowardly way to get even with her. But I figured she had it coming for all she put me through.”
“So you swiped the credit card. That’s what you were getting all tweaky about when I talked to you at Big Daddy that day. Every time I mentioned money, you looked like you were just about ready to jump out of your skin.”
“I knew you didn’t know I’d taken it. I mean, how could you? But I still felt plenty guilty. I was just going to string Marjorie along. You know, the way she did to me all that time with her promises. I was never planning to use it. In fact, I was just thinking that I’d stop by the memorial the next day and leave the credit card on the desk there where I knew she’d find it. By then, she would have missed the auction and that stupid paperweight she wanted. Would have served her right.”
“And did you?”
Ray’s cheeks got chalky. “You mean, did I stop by the memorial? Or did I use the credit card?”
“Ray!” I closed in on him, flapping the card in his face as I did. “You used it? Somebody else’s credit card? Do you know how incredibly dumb that is?”
