But obtaining a Nevada divorce was not cheap, Irene reflected. For starters, you had to be able to afford to move to Nevada and establish residency for six weeks. The Reno cure carried with it a strong whiff of scandal, of course, as did any other kind of divorce. But there was no denying that the state of Nevada was doing a booming business. People who were killing time waiting for the legal process to play out spent a lot of money at hotels, restaurants, and casinos.
“What about the two women fresh in from Reno?” she asked.
“They’re looking for rich husbands to replace the ones they just got rid of. My manager informed me that the blonde asked to have her room switched to one that is closer to that bald man sitting at the table with the bored-looking young woman in blue. Both he and his companion have had enough of each other. She’s got her eye on another man and he’s looking for someone even younger.”
Irene blinked, a little shocked in spite of herself.
“And here I thought that those of us in the gossip business had a somewhat cynical view of human nature,” she said.
“I’m not the one who concluded that a fast-rising movie star might be a murderer. Talk about cynical.”
“Point taken. So, Mr. Magic, do you see a killer down there in the dining room?”
He contemplated the scene for a long moment. “If I’m right, we’re watching for a man who checked in recently and who is traveling alone. I got the list of new guests here at the Burning Cove from the front desk. There are only a handful of names on it.”
“But he might not be staying here.”
“That is one of the unknowns,” Oliver admitted.
“You’re probably right that regardless of where he’s staying he will be alone. I suppose the last thing a killer would want is a traveling companion.”
“I still believe that the odds are very good that the killer is also from the East Coast,” Oliver continued. “He’ll have an accent and a certain style of dress. And he’s rich.”
“You say that because he left that necklace behind in Helen’s safe?”
Oliver’s smile was ice-cold. “A common thief would have been unable to resist such a tempting valuable.”
“I think I’m beginning to see how you go about building up a profile of an individual you’ve never even met.”
“Like I said, it’s not that hard once you learn to pay attention to the details. Bartenders do it on a regular basis. Take Willie, for instance.”
“Who is Willie?”
“The head bartender here at the hotel. She used to be one of my assistants.”
“I thought most bartenders were male.”
Oliver smiled. “Most are. Willie is a little different. You’ll see when you meet her.”
“She can do what you do when it comes to reading people?”
“She’s very good at it. So is my concierge, Mr. Fontaine. Enough about our problem. It’s been a very long day and I’m hungry.”
“So am I,” Irene said, surprised by the discovery.
“I can recommend the abalone.”
“I’ve never had abalone,” she said.
“Welcome to California.”
Chapter 41
Two hours later they walked back through the front door of Casa del Mar. Oliver had a list of guests—most male but some female—who had caught his interest for one reason or another. When he needed a name to go with someone on the list, the waiter checked with the maître d’ to provide it.
Irene had been so caught up in the list-making process—demanding to know why Oliver selected certain guests out of a room full of people—that she had not had an opportunity to worry about what would happen after dinner. It was, she thought, just barely possible that the pink lady and the white wine that was served with the abalone might have had something to do with her failure to think ahead.
The problem was that she and Oliver had not discussed the sleeping arrangements. It wasn’t the sort of thing a lady brought up in conversation, not in a classy dining room.
A great awkwardness descended on her. The tour of the prop locker had turned her world upside down.
Unable to think of anything else to do, she paused at the foot of the stairs, one hand on the railing, and gave Oliver what she hoped was a cool, gracious smile.
“Thanks for a lovely evening,” she said. “Even if we did spend most of it talking about a killer.”
“Never say I don’t know how to show a lady a good time.”
His wry tone disturbed her. She took her hand off the railing and touched the side of his face.
“I’m not sure what I should say at this moment,” she whispered.