Ethan opened the door of the car for her. “What made you decide to do that?”
“Give him the proxy?” She slipped into the passenger seat. “The Clelands aren’t a nice family but they are a family. That company belongs to them. More than that, it’s what holds them together as a clan. Now that I know that Forrest didn’t kill Preston, I don’t have any reason to destroy them.”
“Even though they treated you like a second-class Cleland?”
For some peculiar reason, she felt lighter and happier than she had in a long, long time. She smiled up at him, blinking a little against the dazzling light.
“I’m not any kind of Cleland now,” she said.
“Damn right,” he said. “You’re a Truax.”
He closed the door.
Chapter Forty
Three days later, on a warm, scented night, they went out onto the pool terrace after dinner and reclined on two of the padded loungers.
Zoe braced herself as she did every time things got quiet between them, wondering if this would be the moment when the subject of the impending divorce came up.
“How did you know that Jeremy Hill killed Camelia Foote in the theater?” Ethan asked.
The question startled her. It wasn’t the one she had been expecting.
“I was just guessing,” she said carefully. “Making up a story to lure Kimberley into confessing. Did Hill kill Camelia there?”
“I think so. I finished Foote’s diary, and I put together some information I found in some letters that were written by people who were guests here that night. I also got lucky and turned up some personal notes written by the chief of police who investigated Camelia’s death.”
“What did you discover?”
“Jeremy and Camelia were seen going into the theater sometime around midnight by at least two different people. No one remembered seeing Camelia again after that although Hill was very much in evidence. The chief considered all of the guests’ statements extremely shaky because everyone was drunk. But he also talked to the members of the household staff. Remember I told you that one of them noticed Hill returning to the house from the direction of the gardens just before dawn?”
“Hill went outside the second time to dispose of the body in the canyon?”
“Probably. I think that after the quarrel in the theater, Hill hid Camelia’s body behind the bar and locked the theater using her keys. He went to bed late, along with everyone else. When the household finally seemed quiet, he went back downstairs, unlocked the theater, and carried Camelia outside to the canyon. Probably cleaned up whatever blood there was, too. He would have found water and sponges and towels in the bar. Could have packed the soiled stuff in his suitcase.”
“It was a risk,” Zoe said. “What if he had been seen with the body?”
“He could have wrapped her in his jacket and carried her in his arms as if she had passed out drunk. I doubt that anyone would have looked twice. It was probably common knowledge that they were having an affair.”
Zoe thought about it. “It fits.”
“I’m satisfied with it.”
“Going to publish the case at that Web site you told me about?”
“Not as long as I’m living here,” he said dryly. “I sure as hell don’t want curiosity seekers knocking on my front door asking to see the murder scene.”
“I can understand that.”
Ethan folded his arms behind his head. “You didn’t answer my question. How did you know that Hill killed her in the theater?”
“I told you, it was just a story I was spinning for Kimberley. I wanted to rattle her a bit, make her incriminate herself.”
“Try again,” Ethan said.
She had known that, sooner or later, this moment would arrive, she thought. But she had hoped it would be later. She looked out into the moonlit night and thought wistfully about what might have been.
“You’ll think I really am crazy if I tell you the truth,” she said quietly.
“So, it’s true? You do sense things in rooms?”
“Sometimes.”
“I was afraid of that.” But he sounded resigned to the inevitable. Not angry or disbelieving.
She waited for the other shoe to drop.
The silence deepened.
“Intuition,” Ethan said.
“I’m weird, Ethan.”
“The older I get, the more I realize that everyone is a little weird in some way.” He shifted on the lounger. “So, have you got a plan for rescuing me from all this pink?”
She turned her head on the padded lounger and looked at him. But it was impossible to read his expression in the warm darkness.
“I’m working on one,” she said cautiously. “Not all pink is bad, you know.”
“I have it on good authority that prolonged exposure to it can rot a guy’s brain.”
“Only if the brain in question is very weak to begin with. Yours is not.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Good to know that.” Ethan paused. “How long do you think it will take?”
“To draw up all the plans and select all of the furnishings? Months, probably.”
“Maybe by then I’ll have enough cash to pay for some of the remodeling and some new furniture. If nothing else, I can at least paint the place.”
“Bonnie mentioned that you got a new client today,” she said.
“Insurance job. They want me to verify some facts concerning a suspicious claim. Strictly routine, but it’s the kind of bread and butter business that keeps a small agency going.”
“I like the sound of the word routine. We’ve all had enough excitement lately.”
“Uh-huh.”
Zoe waited, but Ethan did not offer anything more.
“So,” she said. And stopped.
“So, what?”
She gathered her nerve. “About our divorce.”
“It occurs to me that neither of us can afford one right now.”
She held her breath. “Are you suggesting we stay married until we can afford to get divorced?”
“It isn’t just the money,” Ethan said. “I gotta tell you I’m not looking forward to becoming a four-time loser. No one looks kindly upon guys who have been married and divorced four times. We appear shallow to the untrained eye.”
“And then there’s the problem of replacing the bed,” she offered.
“Don’t remind me. I don’t even want to think about having to buy a new bed right now. You know how much they cost?”
“Sure. I’m an interior designer, remember? I can tell you exactly how much a new bed costs. What you’re saying is that we should stay married partly because of the financial aspects and partly because you don’t want to deal with another failed marriage.”
“There’s also the fact that we’re sleeping together,” Ethan said softly. “Looks to me like things are working pretty good in some areas right now. Why fix it if it ain’t broke?”
She pondered that. It was, she realized, the first time in a long while that she had dared to think about her own future. Hope and possibilities, tantalizing and bright, glittered at the edge of her vision. If she stretched out her hands, she might be able to touch them.
“Those are all sound, sensible reasons for staying married,” she said, trying to keep her voice very even.
“I thought so.”
The desert night settled around them like dark silk.
She got up from the lounger, took the small step that separated them, and slowly lowered herself until she was lying on top of him, her legs tangled with his.
He framed her face with his hands. “Ah, Zoe.”
“It wouldn’t be easy, you know,” she said, wanting to get it all out into the open. “We would be wise to take it very slowly. Keep our own homes for a while. Give each other some space. Get to know each other before we try living together.”
“Sure.” He traced her cheekbones with the edge of his fingers. “Nice a
nd slow.”
She felt his body responding to hers, and she caught her breath. “We’ll have to make up some of the rules as we go along. You’re not the only one who’s bringing a lot of heavy baggage to this marriage. I’m a genuine escapee from Xanadu, remember? It’s true I was there for all the wrong reasons, but there’s no getting around the fact that I’ve never been what most folks would call normal.”
“Neither have I.”
“I’m probably going to continue having some of my bad dreams, and I’m not going to stop sensing things in walls.”
He touched the edges of her mouth. “I’ve got a few bad habits of my own. Been known to be moody at times. Bonnie says I’m complicated.”
“So am I.”
“And you’re a decorator.”
She smiled ruefully. “We all know your opinion of interior designers.”
“I agree it won’t be easy and that we’ll have to invent some of the rules.” He brought her mouth very close to his. “But maybe that’s a good thing in our case. What do you say?”
Hope and possibilities glittered.
“I say yes.”
Jayne Ann Krentz, Light in Shadow
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