W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone 23)

“Don’t project. I wasn’t that mad,” I said.

“Could have fooled me. Times I thought about you, I didn’t have the nerve to call. I figured you’d cut me down and rightly so. After a while, the absence just seemed to compound itself. When Pete didn’t pay me I figured it was your revenge.”

“Too subtle. If I take revenge, it’ll have my name written all over it.”

“So now what?”

“I could use some breakfast. I’m starving,” I said.

Dietz joined me in an orgy of bacon and eggs and all the accompaniments. It was a meal that never ceased to satisfy. I was still munching on a piece of buttered rye toast when he returned to the subject that had brought him to town.

“So here’s what bothers me,” he said. “Pete hires me to do a job and next thing you know he’s dead. What’s that about?”

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that,” I said. “You did the work when, the last weekend in May? The robbery went down in August.”

“I know, but I keep thinking the two might be linked. This isn’t a gig you see much these days. One spouse spying on the other? We live in the land of no-fault divorce, so it struck me as odd.”

“Why’d you take the job?”

“It sounded like fun. I can’t remember the last time I was asked to skulk around a hotel taking pictures with a telephoto lens. I did a damn fine job of it even if I say so myself. Then the guy who hired me gets shot to death and I don’t like it so much.”

“Just because one event follows another doesn’t mean the first caused the second,” I said.

“I get that and I hope you’re right, but as long as I’m here I’d like to satisfy myself.”

“Tell me about the surveillance again. When you talked about it last night I was feeling so defensive I didn’t hear a word you said.”

“I was tailing a woman named Mary Lee Bryce and her boss, a doctor named Dr. Linton Reed. Both work at a local research institute. Apparently, they knew each other years ago and were involved in a romance of some kind. I have no idea if it was serious or not. The point is, her current husband was worried about the two of them in Reno staying in the same hotel.”

“Why’d they go to Reno?”

“They attended a conference over the long holiday weekend.”

“And was she having an affair with him?”

“Not that I picked up on. The two barely spoke.”

“Might be camouflage.”

“I considered that. They ignore one another in public and bang away in private. Problem is they had no personal contact at all. I’d be willing to swear to it.”

“Didn’t you say she met with an old high school friend?”

“Now, see, you were listening,” he said with a smile. “You’re right. A fellow named Owen Pensky, an investigative journalist. I ran a background check on him. Big scandal in his past.”

“What kind?”

“He was fired from the New York Times for plagiarizing someone else’s work.”

“What was he doing in Reno?”

“He lives there. He picked up a job at one of the Reno papers.”

“You think her relationship with him was business or personal?”

“I have no idea. She and Pensky met twice, but I couldn’t get audio. Place was too heavily populated. If I’d known in advance where they were meeting, I’d have planted a bug. I guarantee they didn’t go to his room or hers.”

“But she could have been having an affair with him.”

“If so, the two of them did a flawless job of keeping it under wraps.”

“How did you frame it in your report?”

“I was careful. I drew no inferences and I didn’t offer my unsolicited opinion. Nice neutral language not meant to inflame.”

“What are the ethics in a situation like this? With Pete dead, can you talk to her husband about whether the bill was paid?”

“I’ll have to. I doubt the wife has any idea Pete hired me to keep an eye on her. I tip her off and the situation could turn ugly.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with Pete’s death. Feels like a fishing expedition.”

“Sure it is, but why not? Somebody owes me.”

“Pete could have collected and just not paid you.”

“In which case, I’m probably out of luck. Meanwhile, I don’t like thinking the guy got killed because of me. If there’s no link, then fine. If I manage to collect my money, it’s better yet.”