Other hormonal pregnant women may have gotten a little misty at that moment, but not me. Really.
“I know,” Starla said, her voice breaking a little bit. “But Nate is your brother even if Daddy is gone now.”
Nate nodded at the kids, and then there was a moment of silence while the three of us waited to see how the twins would react to this news. Finally Tristan broke the spell. “Mommy, can we sandcastle now?” he said hopefully, raising big brown eyes to Starla’s face.
“Sure,” she said, wiping her hands on her shorts and standing up. “Lena, maybe you’d like to do your interview with Conrad now, and I can take the kids and Nate for a little walk along the beach?”
I looked at Nate, raising my eyebrows just a tad, and he gave me an equally subtle nod, consenting. “That sounds like a plan,” I told Starla. “Oh, did you make that list we talked about?”
“Yep.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and passed it to me. I opened it and scanned the short list of locations. These were the places that Starla knew Jason had liked to go. I’d see if Conrad had anything to add to it, and then I’d go hunting.
Starla called her brother in from the backyard and I heard a screen door crash shut somewhere deep in the house. He strolled in a moment later, dressed in the power male’s weekend uniform: khaki pants and a golf shirt with the little alligator. He shook my hand and Nate’s, managing not to comment on the ugliness of my name this time, and then there were a few minutes of bustle as Starla packed a beach bag with sand toys, sunblock, and hats.
“Well, you might as well come back to the office,” Conrad said in a long-suffering tone, as though he had resigned himself to the chore of speaking to me but thought he was being really noble about it. It was like he was playing at being a sixty-something, pillar-of-the-community type tycoon. The problem was that he was at least thirty years away from this being believable.
I followed him into the office on the right side of the entryway, pointing to a chocolate leather sofa that definitely cost more than my car. The whole room was decorated in classic cigar club style: heavy dark furniture, evergreen walls, glass-shaded lamps that seemed to imprison light rather than provide it. And if the twins had ever set foot in this room, I was an elf queen of Middle Earth.
The space was dominated by an enormous oak desk that held a desk-size calendar, two nearly empty titanium in/out trays, and a shiny, wicked-sharp bronze letter opener. Seeing me looking at the letter opener, Conrad frowned and reached forward to tuck it against the stacked in/out trays, where it was almost obscured by the few papers sticking out.
Conrad sat down regally in his leather office chair, leaning way back to show that I was the hired help and he the boss. I tossed my bag down on the chocolate sofa and dumped my fat ass on the seat next to it. So there.
“So, Selena,” Conrad said with a relaxed smile, “what is it you’d like to ask me about Jason?” He held his hands out to show he had nothing to hide.
“How was your relationship?” I said bluntly.
Conrad shrugged, unfazed. “That of any two brother-in-laws, I suppose.”
Yeah, that told me nothing. “You went out for drinks together occasionally, is that correct?”
“Did Starla tell you that? Yes, I suppose. Jason would call me up, maybe once a month or so, and we’d go to a sports bar for a couple of hours.”
“Jason always called you?” I asked. “Why not the other way around?”
Conrad sighed, making a show of being put out, and leaned forward. “To be truthful, Selena, most of these ‘social occasions’ were an excuse for Jason to ask me for money. The rest of the evening was simply for show.”
I had kind of suspected. Starla and Jason hadn’t been living high on the hog, but a waitressing job and the occasional moving gig didn’t put a lot of food on the table. “And did you give it to him?”
He shrugged, dismissive. Silly money. So insignificant. “Of course. A thousand here, a thousand there. I knew he couldn’t afford to support my Starla and her kids without help, so I consented.”
My Starla. Her kids. “Did you ever spend time with the four of them together?”
“Once or twice a year, perhaps.” He frowned. “I never really thought about it, but I believe Christmas and the twins’ birthday was the only time we all really spent together. The rest of the time I saw either Jason or Starla and the kids.”
“When you were all together, how did you find Jason and Starla? Did they seem happy?”
“I suppose you’re asking because you’re wondering if Jason may have been having an affair, that could have led to his death? I have often wondered about an affair myself,” Conrad said darkly. “Jason had a wandering eye, and it was no secret that he was mostly with Starla because of the pregnancy.” He paused and carefully smoothed down his shirt. “Of course, if he was cheating on her, I never really knew one way or the other.”
I was a little surprised. Conrad didn’t seem like the type to wonder about something without finding out the answer. Especially when it came to his Starla. “So they didn’t seem happy together?”
“Oh, Starla was always happy enough, of course. She is a beautiful person, but not the most perceptive. No, it was Jason who seemed unhappy in the relationship. He always struck me as rather bored. He wanted to be somewhere else.”
“Like where?”
Conrad shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, probably his coffee shops or writers groups, that kind of thing. Jason’s problem was that he always wanted to be with people who were like him, but he could never find anyone he thought was good enough. He was always looking around for the next best thing.”
“That doesn’t sound like very much fun for Starla.”
Conrad’s expression clouded over, and for the first time he looked like he hadn’t practiced all of this in the mirror that morning. “No. It wasn’t. He treated Starla like she was some sort of amusing but time-consuming pet. A lot of work for a little entertainment.”
“Was Starla...aware of Jason’s attitude?” Please, God, don’t let Starla be a suspect. Then I reminded myself that she had hired me. Unless the whole plan was just to lure me here to get rid of me...no, that was too convoluted.
“I believe she was starting to be, though she’d never admit it to herself,” Conrad said, clearly getting angry just thinking about it. Interesting. “Tell me, Selena,” he said abruptly. “How are you progressing on the case? Do you have any idea who may be responsible for Jason’s death?”
“Pardon me, Connie, but I’ll ask the questions.”
I’d meant for that to sting, and it clearly did: Conrad’s mouth dropped open half an inch, and his face got red. “Young lady,”—the guy was maybe three years older than me, tops—“I would appreciate if you didn’t speak to me like that. You do work for me, after all. You will treat me with respect.”
“No, I don’t,” I said coolly.
“What?” He looked perplexed. I was continuing to talk back?
“I don’t work for you. I work for Starla, and I represent her interests, not yours.”
“The money-”
“The money is Starla’s. You might manage it, you might even be the only one who sees it, but it’s hers to spend as she pleases, and she wishes to spend it on me. Now, you can answer my questions, or I can inform Starla that you refuse to let me do my job. I think that would probably hurt her feelings, don’t you?”
35. He Could Pay Attention
Starla pushed the double stroller, a huge sturdy thing that let the twins sit side-by-side. They walked for only a few minutes before Nate saw the sand.
“This is technically a public beach,” Starla said, a little awkward. “But it’s supposed to just be for people in Malibu, so it doesn’t get too crowded.”
Nate nodded, feeling his eyes widen as he stared at the water. He’d been to the beach at Lake Michigan, of course, but he’d never seen sand like this, and definitely never seen waves this big. They seemed...alive, cresting and brea
king and pulling back, like a writhing organism wrestling with itself.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Nate jerked back to attention. Starla was looking at him expectantly, her face glowing with sunshine and good health. “It’s incredible,” he said honestly.
She parked the stroller and began expertly undoing the straps to release the twins. Annie, who was freed first, immediately beelined for the water. “Oh, wait, crap,” Starla mumbled. “Annie, come back a minute!” To Nate, she added hurriedly, “Can you help me get their life jackets on?”
He put the life vest on Annie, guiding her sweat-damp arms through the holes and fumbling the buckles closed. He finished with her at the same time Starla finished with Tristan, and the two of them went tripping toward the surf together, squealing with glee.
“They only ever go in to their ankles,” Starla said almost apologetically, as though Nate had chastised her for nearly forgetting the life vests. “But I know they should wear them anyway.”
Nate didn’t know what to say, so he just shot her a smile that he hoped was friendly. Starla set out a big family-sized towel about twenty feet from the water’s farthest reach. Nate helped her set out buckets and shovels, and the twins went to work on their castles. When they were settled, Starla plopped down on the towel next to Nate.
“Did you ever come here with my father?” he asked.
Starla shook her head. “No, Jason didn’t like the beach much. We used to come down here on my day off, the twins and me, and he’d go to the Coffee Bean on Hollywood Boulevard to write.”
“What did you guys do when you were together?”
“Oh, lots of things.” Starla frowned. “Well, I mean, before the babies, we used to go out a bunch, to clubs in Hollywood that Jason loved. He really liked old Hollywood history, you know, the Chinese theater and all that? He would go on and on about who was sighted where with who.”
“Was he...I mean, was Jason a good dad?”
Starla sighed, picking up a handful of sand and letting it fall from one hand to another. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot, you know, since he died. I think Jason was the best dad he could be. The twins were kind of a surprise, and babies are really hard and stuff. But he loved them, in his way.”
“Did he ever talk about me?” Nate held his breath, but Starla shook her head sadly.
“No, Nate, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about you until I met Lena at the restaurant.”
Nate’s face fell, disappointed, even though he’d known what the answer would be. “What did he tell you about where he came from?”
“Just that he was from Chicago, that he’d moved to LA to write, that he’d written a book. I knew that his parents were dead and he didn’t have brothers or sisters, and I knew he’d gone to Northwestern. He had a sweatshirt that he wore sometimes.” She smiled at him, with loss on her face. “I know I’m not, you know, the brightest bulb on the tree or whatever. I should have asked more questions. About a lot of stuff. But Jason could be very sweet, and he never hit me or yelled at me or took drugs or came home all wasted, like some of the guys I grew up with. Connie’s got a lot of money now, but that’s not where we started.” A dreamy expression came across her face for a moment, and she looked about sixteen. “And Jason, when he wanted to, could pay attention to you like nobody I’d ever met.”
Nate felt a wave of compassion for this overwhelmed woman and the bubble that had popped for her. He was only a teenager, but Starla seemed younger still. Nate patted her on the shoulder awkwardly.
“I’m sorry he wasn’t better to you, Starla.”
Her eyes focused on him again, and she smiled sadly. “You, too. I’m sorry he wasn’t better to you.”
They both watched the twins, who had stuck a ratty doll into the sand and were digging a moat around her. Nate thought about his father, the man who had brought this whole bizarre situation together, and he started to grow angry for all the lives that the man had moved carelessly out of the way to pursue his half-formed dream. What kind of person would leave their wife and kid only to go somewhere else and ignore a girlfriend and kids? Even if Jason had lived, it seemed like Starla was always going to raise twins alone, her whole youth now signed away. And now Nate was going into foster care, and it was all because of this one stupid man. For one brief, terrible moment, Nate was glad that Jason was dead. He looked at Annie and Tristan in the sand, and thought that his father hadn’t deserved the good things he’d gotten.
And, just that quickly, Nate knew.
“Starla, I have to go back,” Nate yelled, and he was already running. “Stay here! You have to stay here!” He didn’t hear what she called after him, but it didn’t matter, because Nate was sure he knew who had killed Jason Anderson.
I’d eased up on Conrad a little, but he was still pretty sullen about the whole emotional blackmail thing, muttering one-word answers to my mundane questions. I didn’t care, because for the first time, really, I was beginning to formulate a theory.
“Conrad, you work for a pretty big company, right?”
He looked surprised, forgetting to be surly. “Yeah, S&H International. Why?”
“I know a little bit about big companies, and I would just bet that yours has investigators in-house, or at least on retainer.”
Conrad began to look wary. “I guess we do. Again, why do you ask?”
I shifted in my seat, moving my big bag a little closer and stretching out my stomach a little. It really did hurt from the flight. “Because, Conrad, I think that there’s no way in hell you don’t know whether or not Jason Anderson was sleeping around. I think you hired a PI from your company’s connections, and I think he found something, am I right?”
Conrad hesitated for a very long moment, deciding. I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh, come on, Conrad, give me a little credit. If there’s a PI, he or she had to be paid, and that means there’s a paper trail. I can find this one out on my own eventually, but it’d be easier for everyone if you just answer me.”
“All right, fine, I did hire a private investigator to follow Jason around and keep an eye on him. I just didn’t want to speak ill of the dead,” he added primly.
Jason had told David Harker that someone had been following him. One mystery solved, anyway. “Why, what did the guy find out?”
Conrad stood up abruptly and turned away from me, looking out the window behind his desk. I let him. Finally he turned back around, and his eyes had started to bug out a little with fury. “Jason,” he spat, “was cheating on my sister with half the women in LA. Actresses, catalogue models, store clerks. He couldn’t keep it in his pants.” He shook his head in revulsion. “I don’t know what they saw in him. I can only assume he promised them parts in the movies he was sure to make.”
“And you put up with that?”
“Yes, I did!” Conrad burst out. “I knew for months, but I tolerated him because he made my sister happy, and she didn’t have a clue. I thought it would run its course and either Starla would find out, or Jason would stop. Those were the only two outcomes.”
“You have insurance, right Conrad?” I said casually.
“What? Why—yes, I have insurance.” He sat back down in his chair, a little confused.
“What about your sister? Do Starla and the kids have insurance?”
“I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but please answer the question.”
“Yes. I took out policies for Starla and the kids, and I pay for their health insurance. I have a guy.” That last sentence just slid so comfortably off his tongue, and for a moment Conrad looked back on firmer ground.
“A guy?”
He waved a hand. “You know. An insurance guy.”
“Jason had kind of an inflated sense of self-importance, didn’t he? Guy kind of thought the world revolved around him.”
He looked at me suspiciously, but I kept my face even, and he finally nodded. “I completely agree.”
�
�So was it Jason’s idea to take out a big dramatic insurance property while he was writing a screenplay about a killer, or was that your suggestion?”
Conrad remained silent. I, on the other hand, snorted. “That’s it, isn’t it? You sent him to your guy. Probably even gave him the money for the policy.”
Conrad flinched, twitching his shoulders like there was a target on his back. Jackpot. “Even if I did, that means nothing,” Conrad insisted.
“By itself, no. But you were also having Jason investigated. You knew he had a plane ticket to Chicago, didn’t you? Did you know he once had a family there, and you figured he was going back to them, or did you just figure he was having a transcontinental affair? Either way, you decided you’d had enough of the guy, am I right?”
Conrad had been getting panicky-face, but now his expression went back to smug. “I have an alibi for when Jason was killed. I was out of the country. There’s a passport, witnesses, everything.” He raised a cocky eyebrow at me, pleased as punch. I tried not to feel all crushed.
“You have an insurance guy, right, Conrad? Do you have any other guys? A suit guy, maybe, or a car guy?” I leaned forward, even though it hurt my stomach a little. “Tell me, Conrad, do you have a murder guy?”
Conrad’s face hardened, and he reached for his desk drawer, where I was guessing he had a loaded gun. I was faster, though, and I already had my bag next to me and unzipped. I darted my hand in, got a grip on the Browning, swung it up to Conrad, and cocked the safety.
And then Nate burst into the room, looking panicked.
36. Just Dumb Luck
Nate was not much of a runner, but despite the sand dragging him down and his bare feet, he was flying. He darted through the alley and along the path that led back to Starla’s brother’s house and his head was full of Lena’s voice saying, “Who would benefit?” It wasn’t Starla, because she’d loved Jason so much, but Conrad was her brother. He must have hated the way that Jason treated his little sister. Enough to think killing Jason was worth the cost of Starla grieving for him. And now Lena was alone with Conrad, and she had the baby, and why couldn’t he run any faster?
The Big Keep: A Lena Dane Mystery (Lena Dane Mysteries) Page 22