Don frowned.
“He decided when she died that the case was closed. I went back to San Francisco after I saw you last, but I couldn’t get my mind off the murder, so I came back down here on my own.”
He set his glass down and ran a finger over his bushy moustache. “Poor Jane. The guy doesn’t even care who killed her. She never did have much luck with men. Is this Abe Snelling a boyfriend, or what?”
“Mostly what. He claims they were just friends, and not very close at that. But a few days ago he was awfully anxious to find her, and he lied to me about how they met. When you say Jane never had much luck with men, what do you mean?”
“She kept making the wrong choices-guys who treated her badly; guys who were weak and leaned too heavily on her; guys with messy domestic situations.”
“I take it you don’t include yourself in those categories.”
“Me?” He grinned and sat up straighter. “I’m a fine catch. A terrific cook, in the best of health, self-supporting, don’t leave my underwear on the floor, thoroughly domesticated. You could do worse.”
“I’m sure I could.” The silence that fell between us was not uncomfortable, merely speculative. Finally I said, “Well, tomorrow I’m going to get answers to some of the questions about Jane that have been bothering me.”
“Such as?”
“Her connection with those deaths at The Tidepools. I’m going up there and talk to Allen Keller-”
A look of intense dislike flickered in Don’s hazel eyes and he attempted to mask it by picking up his glass and motioning to the waiter for refills. He’d reacted to Keller’s name that way the first time I talked to him.
“What is it with you and Keller?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You really don’t like him. Why?”
He sighed. “It shows that much, does it?”
“Yes.”
“Well if we must talk about him, Keller was one of the guys Jane got mixed up with, one of the ones with a messy domestic situation. It was my misfortune to be the guy she dumped when old Allen came along.”
So Keller, like Snelling, had lied to me about Jane. “I see. Keller told me he was getting divorced…What exactly was his situation when Jane became involved with him?”
The waiter brought two fresh glasses of wine and Don waited until he had left before speaking. “Keller was married to his third wife, Arlene. He had a reputation as a womanizer-that’s how he ended up with wives number two and three-but Arlene kept him on a tight leash, at least until Jane came along.
“And then?”
“At first Allen and Jane were pretty discreet. Hell, I didn’t even know about it for months, and I lived in the same apartment complex and still saw her regularly. They would meet at the marina over there.” He gestured at the window. The marina was well lit, the forest of boat masts white against the dark sky.
“He has a boat there?” I asked.
“A cabin cruiser. Arlene never liked it or the people at the marina, and they didn’t like her. It was a safe place for Allen and Jane to go. But then they decided they were in love and once they decided that they couldn’t keep it quiet. Jane broke off with me. She asked me not to tell anyone about Allen, and I didn’t. Allen began squirreling away assets, because of the community property laws. He didn’t want Arlene to have her share.”
I remembered what Keller had said to me about having made the money and it being his.
“That would have been okay,” Don went on, “but Allen also started taking Jane out in public. He made a lot of stupid moves, like renaming the boat Princess Jane. People started to talk. This is a small town, in spite of the way it’s grown in the past ten years. It wasn’t long before Arlene knew the whole story.”
“And she filed for divorce?”
“Yes. And because Arlene knew Allen had manipulated his finances when he split from his second wife, she hired detectives to trace their joint assets. They found he’d forged Arlene’s signature a couple of times, and she demanded a huge settlement in exchange for not prosecuting. I gather Keller had to liquidate a number of holdings in order to keep her from getting her hands on The Tidepools. Rumor has it he’s on the verge of bankruptcy.”
I recalled the impression I’d had of Keller’s home as a house of cards. “What happened with him and Jane?”
“She couldn’t take the heat of the scandal. Quit her job at The Tidepools and moved to San Francisco. But she still saw Keller-they were in here together last month-and I think they hoped it would work out for them once he got his financial affairs in shape. And it probably would have; the scandal would have eventually died down. People give up, you know, when there’s nothing fresh and juicy to chew over.”
“You say you saw Keller with Jane last month?” If she had been with him then, she could also have been with him the past week.
“I didn’t, but someone from the station did and, of course, she felt she had to mention it.”
“Has anyone seen them together since then?”
‘Not that I know of.”
I’d have to have a talk with Keller tomorrow, I decided. Suddenly tired, I drained my glass and looked at my watch.
Don said, “Can I cook dinner for you one night this week? It would have to be after eight, of course. I’m happy having the show in a prime time slot, but it doesn’t allow for a normal social life.”
“That’s okay; I‘ve never had one of those myself. And, yes, I’d love to have dinner.”
He grinned, then motioned to the waiter for the check. Our departure from the restaurant was accompanied by the same waving and handshaking as Don’s arrival had been, and I realized he was something of a local celebrity. When I commented on the fact, however, he shrugged and said, “It’s a friendly town.” His offhandedness made me like him even more.
We walked toward my car, Don’s hand resting lightly on my arm. As we came in sight of the MG, I spotted a figure in dark clothing leaning down next to it, as if trying to see through the window.
“Hey!” I called.
The figure moved back onto the sidewalk, behind a group of people who stood talking in front of a restaurant. I shook off Don’s hand and quickened my pace. The figure started to run, and I went after it.
A tourist couple came out of the restaurant. They were both fat, and the man had his arm around the woman. I dodged to the left, but a kid on a skateboard came zooming by, barely missing me. The couple both seemed tipsy, when they tried to avoid me, they staggered and then stopped. The woman giggled and the man smiled apologetically. By the time I’d gotten around them, the dark figure had vanished.
Don came up behind me. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know.” I turned and hurried back to my car. Both doors were locked and the convertible top was intact, but I got out my keys, opened the passenger door and unlocked the glove box. The.38 Special I kept there had not been touched.
I straightened up and turned to Don. His mouth was open and he was looking at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. “You’re for real, aren’t you?” he said.
“What?”
He motioned at the glove box. “It’s one thing hearing you talk about an investigation, but seeing that…”
I smiled. After dating a cop who took things like the.38 for granted, I’d forgotten how it could scare off potential boyfriends. “Don’t worry.” I put my hand on Don’s arm. “I’ve very rarely had to use it.”
He covered my hand with his and squeezed it. “But you do know how.”
“Yes. I wouldn’t own it if I didn’t.” The image of a man I’d once killed flashed into my mind, but I shook it off, as I always did. I certainly didn’t want to go into that with Don-not until I knew him a lot better.
He smiled. “Well, just don’t bring the gun to dinner.”
“I’ll bring wine instead.”