Outfoxed: An Andy Carpenter Mystery by David Rosenfelt

computer sleight of hand. That is another reason to think that the company is at the center of this whole thing.
    Of course, Gerry Wright had the computer expertise and the financial incentive to put his partner away. He also appears to have been interested in Brian’s soon-to-be ex-wife. All of this gives Wright a reason to have framed Brian and gotten rid of him.
    Unfortunately, that would also have given Brian a motive to kill Gerry. So Brian could well be not guilty of the embezzlement but guilty of the murders.
    Ugh.
    I do what I always do in these situations and call a meeting of our legal and investigative team. We’ll convene in my office tomorrow morning, so I can tell them all that I know so far, which isn’t a hell of a lot.
    The thing I do first is visit the scene of the crime. I clear it with Pete Stanton, who really has no choice but to allow me in. He knows that if he doesn’t, I can have a judge order him to, and he’d look bad for refusing.
    Since Ricky is in school, Laurie is able to go with me, as she always does. And as an ex-cop, she knows her way around a crime scene better than I do.
    On the way there, she says, “Ricky really seems to be into football.”
    I nod. “Like father, like son.”
    “Today he asked me about the line on the Giants game this Sunday. I asked him if he meant offensive or defensive line.”
    Uh-oh.
    She continued, “But he meant the betting line.”
    I don’t say anything, because in the moment nothing comes to me. I’ve got a hunch that if the moment lasted until next August, nothing would come to me.
    “Andy, I don’t believe in pushing a child into a career path, but I would be unhappy to see him become a bookmaker. It would hurt his chances to become president.”
    “I’ll talk to him,” I say.
    “What are you going to say?”
    “Trust me. I’ll take care of it.” She doesn’t look terribly trusting, so I say, “What are you worried about?”
    “That the two of you will switch our vacation from Disney World to Vegas.”
    We arrive at Gerry Wright’s house, and the area looks much different from the last time I was here. Then there were all kinds of police vehicles, cops everywhere, and neighbors milling about trying to get a look at what was going on. Now there is just one police car, one cop standing on the front porch, and not a neighbor to be found.
    Pete has cleared the way for us to enter the house, but it probably wouldn’t have been necessary. The cop on the front porch greets Laurie like a long-lost best friend, though he sneers at me. Her former colleagues on the force cannot seem to grasp the concept that she is married to a defense attorney. It’s a shame she may never live down.
    Everything about the inside of the house says luxurious living, from the clearly expensive furniture to the fine art hanging on the walls. I know zero about vases, but there’s one sitting on a stand that I would bet could be traded in for a Porsche.
    This is a room that was meticulously and carefully designed; great thought must have gone into every piece, and money was no object. The kind of money represented here makes me think about Brian, Wright’s partner and former business equal, who has spent years living in a seven-by-ten-foot cement cell. Of course, at this point, given the chance, I’m sure Wright would happily trade places with him.
    All of this poshness makes the bloodstains all over the floor even more incongruous than one would expect. They are still more jarring because the carpet is so white. Two people died violently in this room, but the considerate killers seemed not to have disturbed so much as an ashtray.
    I always find it weird and very disconcerting to be at the spot where lives were snuffed out, but when I turn to mention something like that to Laurie, I notice that she’s not in the room. “Laurie?”
    “In the kitchen,” she responds, and while I have no idea where the kitchen is, I move toward an open door, since that seems to be