The Lovebirds

Oliver seemed to hesitate as if he might be considering lying. ‘‘Sweet Things.’’

‘‘Her choice? Or yours?’’ Jack asked.

‘‘Mine. I’d called ahead so I got exactly what I wanted,’’ he said, glancing at his wife’s back, as if he thought that fact was going to save him. But Mitzy seemed more interested in her drink than her husband now. Jack could understand that.

‘‘Cash? Or charge?’’ Jack asked.

Again Oliver seemed to hesitate, then said, ‘‘Charge. I would imagine Peggy still has my credit card.’’ The realization definitely didn’t make him happy. ‘‘I should have known Peggy couldn’t handle this.’’ He didn’t seem torn up over his secretary’s death and that bothered Jack. But Oliver was upset over something and it had to be more than getting caught sending his secretary out to do his Valentine’s Day shopping.

It also made Jack wonder how Peggy had gotten the job and why. ‘‘How long has Peggy been your secretary?’’

‘‘Too long,’’ Mitzy commented under her breath, then turned her baby blues on Jack. ‘‘Obviously, Oliver only hired her because he felt sorry for her and look where it’s gotten him.’’

Where had it gotten him? Jack wondered.

‘‘Just a little over a year,’’ Oliver said as if Mitzy hadn’t spoken.

‘‘Are you saying she wasn’t a good secretary?’’

‘‘Adequate,’’ Oliver said and finished his drink.

‘‘But you kept her on,’’ Jack persisted.

‘‘Finding anyone who wants to work in River’s Edge is next to impossible,’’ Oliver said.

Mitzy emptied her glass.

‘‘When did you arrive at the penthouse?’’ Jack asked Oliver.

‘‘Right after Mitzy.’’ Oliver glanced at Tempest as if he expected her to either corroborate his story—or contradict it. ‘‘I came up the back stairs.’’

Jack lifted a brow.

‘‘The elevator was blocked, remember?’’ Oliver said. ‘‘I wasn’t even aware I didn’t have my key.’’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_058384f4-2a00-5a4c-a77a-71c2693df7ac)

THE MISSING EXTRA KEY bothered Jack. But what bothered him more was the way Oliver had looked to Tempest.

Jack glanced at her now. She said nothing, but from the set of her jaw, Jack guessed she wasn’t happy about something.

‘‘Excuse me, Sheriff,’’ Deputy Reed said from the living room doorway. ‘‘The coroner is in the lobby.’’

‘‘Bring him up,’’ Jack said, reaching over to turn off the tape recorder.

Mitzy shoved herself up off the couch and headed for the bar, breezing past Oliver without looking at him.

Jack rose, tucking the recorder into his jacket pocket again. ‘‘I assume neither of you is planning to leave town?’’

He caught a look pass between Mitzy and Oliver.

‘‘We’re not going anywhere, Sheriff,’’ Oliver said impatiently.

Jack turned his attention to Tempest, anxious to talk to her alone. She was already on her feet, no doubt eager as anyone to get away from this pair. ‘‘If you have a few minutes....’’ He motioned toward the foyer.

She nodded and followed him out to where the coroner was just getting off the elevator.

‘‘Damn,’’ Lou Ramsey said, scowling down at the body, then at Jack. ‘‘You bring this kind of stuff with you from the big city?’’

It did feel as if he’d brought something back with him, more old baggage than even he’d realized. ‘‘I can’t believe you’re still alive—let alone still the coroner,’’ Jack said to the cantankerous old veterinarian/councilman/ coroner.

White-headed, stooped-shouldered and more temperamental than a de-hibernated grizzly in spring, Ramsey guffawed, then put down his bag. ‘‘I’m really looking forward to working with you,’’ he said. ‘‘Yeah, right.’’

Ramsey asked Dobson if he’d shot the scene as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves from his bag. Dobson nodded. Jack sent Deputy Reed to keep the Sanderses company and make sure they remained in the living room until they could have their foyer back.