Hour Game

REMMY BATTLE LED KING AND Michelle inside and up the main staircase to the third floor. The house seemed to have been added onto over time, observed Michelle, with new wings extending out from the older central block.

Remmy apparently read her thoughts because she said, "This house has been a work in progress for decades. Many of our friends have several beautiful estates around the world, but this is the only one Bobby and I ever wanted. It's something of a mishmash at times, and some hallways just stop at a wall, but I"-she corrected herself instantly-"we love it."

They arrived at a door that Remmy opened and ushered them through.

It was a large and nicely furnished room, painted in comfortable colors, with a row of windows. One of those windows looked new.

Remmy pointed to it. "That's where he got in. The police said he used a crowbar. They finally gave me the okay to have everything fixed."

King stared down at a cracked picture frame that was on one of the nightstands. The glass had been pulled out. He picked it up. "What happened to this?"

Remmy scowled. "That picture was on a table over by the window. It was broken when Junior came through there. I haven't had it repaired yet."

King and Michelle looked at the drawing of a young boy inside the broken frame. The drawing was ripped right down the middle.

"Who is it?" asked King.

"It's a drawing of Bobby Jr. I'll never forgive Junior for destroying it."

King put the picture down. "I understand there was some sort of hidden drawer in your closet?"

Remmy nodded and motioned for them to follow. Her closet had elaborate mahogany built-ins throughout, and clothes, bags, shoes, hats and other accessories were arranged in precise order.

King looked at the meticulous display with unabashed admiration. He kept his own possessions in perfect order, a fact well known to Michelle. His expression of unmitigated delight clearly registered with her, for while Remmy wasn't looking, Michelle tapped King on the arm, gave an orgasmic shudder and then pantomimed having an after-sex cigarette.

"Where was the hidden drawer, if you don't mind my asking?" said King after he finished scowling at his partner.

Remmy pulled one drawer out slightly and then tapped on the front of a flat piece of wood right below it. This popped open, revealing a small space about eighteen inches across and two feet deep. "A false front," explained Remmy. "Looks like a piece of filler wood, but pulling out the drawer above primes a lever in the false front. Then tapping on the right upper corner of the false front triggers that lever, and it opens."

King examined the mechanism closely. "Pretty clever."

"Always wanted a secret drawer in my closet," said Remmy. "Ever since I was a little girl."

"But the person who robbed you didn't know how to open it?" said Michelle.

"Junior Deaver didn't know how to open it," she corrected. "Just about every drawer in here was clawed and busted up. Cost me a pretty penny to fix it. I'll be taking that out of Junior's hide in civil court. Be sure and tell Harry that."

"But how did anyone other than you even know there was a secret drawer in here?" Michelle wanted to know.

"Over the years I might have let that fact slip. I didn't think anything of it, because we have at least what I thought was a first-rate security system."

"And was the system on?" asked King.

"Yes, only there are no motion detectors on the third floor and the windows up here aren't wired either. The system was put in years ago after a near tragedy. I guess the philosophy back then was that second-story men don't venture to the third floor," she added in disgust.

"What near tragedy?" asked King.

Remmy turned to him. "My son Eddie was kidnapped."

"I never heard about that," he said.

"It happened over twenty years ago, while he was still in college."

"But everything turned out all right obviously," said King.

"Yes, thank God. We didn't even have to pay the five-million-dollar ransom."

"Why not?" asked Michelle.

"The FBI tracked down the kidnapper and killed him in a shoot-out. In fact, Chip Bailey, the FBI agent who rescued Eddie and killed the kidnapper, lives near here. He still works for the FBI, over in Charlottesville."

King said, "So no one was here when the burglary happened?"

Remmy sat on the edge of the large canopied bed, drumming her long, slender fingers against the carved bedpost. " Savannah was still at college. She'd graduated over the winter but decided to stay down there and have some postgraduate fun. I'm sure you could tell that my little girl truly loves her good times. Eddie and Dorothea were out of town. Mason, the household help, and Sally, the girl who handles the stables, live in the house in the far rear grounds. They wouldn't have noticed anything anyway. My bedroom windows face a pretty isolated part of the rear grounds."

"So you stay in the house by yourself?" asked Michelle.