The Girl Who Knew Too Much(10)

“You seem to have a somewhat jaded view of what goes on here at the Burning Cove.”

Irene gave him her best you-can-trust-me, everything-is-off-the-record smile. “Care to set me straight?”

“I never discuss the personal lives of my guests.”

“Of course not.”

“I would like to know what you expected to learn from Maitland.”

“We’re back to that, are we?”

“I’m afraid so.”

There was something implacable about Oliver Ward. Short of screaming for help, she did not see an easy way out of the situation. Given that he owned the hotel and paid the salaries of everyone who worked there, she was not certain that screaming for help would be of much use.

It occurred to her that there was another angle to consider, as well. If there was one thing she had learned in her short career at Whispers, it was that two could play the information game.

Trying to give the impression that she was willing to humor him, she sank deeper into her chair. The effect of languid grace was somewhat marred because she had to fumble with the oversized robe to make certain that it did not fall open. She was not wearing anything underneath. All of her clothes had been handed off to the housekeeping department for cleaning and drying.

To his credit, Oliver’s fierce eyes never once dropped below her face. Either he was a real gentleman or he was not attracted to women, she thought. Her feminine intuition told her that the latter was not the case.

She decided there was a third possibility—he simply wasn’t interested in her.

“You heard me answer all of Detective Brandon’s questions,” she said. “Gloria Maitland phoned me long-distance at my office in L.A. yesterday. I might add that she reversed the charges. My boss was not pleased with that.”

“You told Detective Brandon that Maitland was vague about why she wanted to speak to you, yet you made the long drive from Los Angeles to keep the appointment.”

“She assured me that the gossip she had for me was very hot. To be honest, Mr. Ward, I could use a good story. I’m relatively new at Whispers. I’m trying to make my mark. If I don’t come up with a solid headline soon, I might be looking for other employment. All I can tell you is that I went to the spa a little after midnight, just as Gloria Maitland instructed. She was dead at the bottom of the pool when I arrived.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “You said someone else was there.”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure at first but then I heard the footsteps. Someone was running toward me. That made me very nervous. I went into the water to avoid him. That’s it. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“You went into the water to avoid him.”

“Yes.”

“You told Detective Brandon that you weren’t sure if the other person was a man or a woman.”

“Sound echoes in your spa, Mr. Ward. Also, I couldn’t see anything clearly—just shadows. I can’t be absolutely certain whether it was a man or a woman who ran toward me. I have to admit I wasn’t paying close attention to the details.”

“But your first thought was that the other person was a man.”

Irene drank some more of her whiskey while she recalled the scene in the spa. She nodded once.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m almost sure of it.”

“What makes you almost sure?”

Irene eyed him warily. “Why are you pushing so hard on this particular subject?”

“Because I think that you have a specific reason to believe that the person who murdered Gloria Maitland was male.” Oliver paused for emphasis. “Perhaps because of what Maitland said to you in that phone call that made you get into a car and drive all the way to Burning Cove to meet her.”

Irene took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Good guess, Mr. Ward. Yes, I have a reason to think that Gloria Maitland might have been murdered by a man.”

“While I’m on a roll, I’m going to make another guess. You didn’t drive all the way to Burning Cove just to pick up a little Hollywood gossip from an aspiring actress. I’m sure you’ve got better sources in Los Angeles. I think you came here for a very specific reason. So I’m going to ask you again, what did Gloria Maitland tell you in that phone call that brought you to this town and my hotel?”

Irene rocked her glass back and forth a little, sending the whiskey into a slow swirl. In the past nine days she had chased too many false leads and run into too many stone walls. She had nothing left to lose.

She set the whiskey glass aside and met Oliver Ward’s unusual eyes.

“I came here to meet Gloria Maitland because she said she had something very important to tell me about Nick Tremayne.”