“Oh, my,” she said, stepping back for a minute. “You spend a lot of time in the weight room, don’t you?”
“Ah, shucks,” I said.
Then we practiced safe, and extremely satisfactory, sex.
Several times.
Chapter 18
At a little after four the next morning, I awoke next to Sandra in her king-sized bed. She was sleeping, with the sheet pulled up to cover most of her body, although one breast was exposed. I glanced at it for a moment but then looked away as I gently pulled the sheet up to her neck. I have nothing against looking at breasts, especially those as beautiful as Sandra’s, but only in the right context. Staring at a woman’s boobs as she sleeps next to me has never seemed to fall into that category.
I got up as quietly as I could and padded into the bathroom, where I took just a few minutes to wash myself and throw on my clothes, which I’d picked up on the trip from the bed. Sometimes I’m not sure if a woman wants me to spend the night after lovemaking, and, to be honest, I usually don’t really want to, anyway. I prefer to wake up in my own bed, albeit alone. In Sandra’s case, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind my leaving. The sex had been great, but I hadn’t felt any cosmic connection between us, nor had I expected to. Mostly, what we’d had was what a friend of mine calls recreational sex, two people looking for a good time with each other without any attachments. That’s not to say that I didn’t hope to someday find someone to whom I could feel attached, as it were, just that it hadn’t happened yet, at least not tonight. As I said, I’d enjoyed the sex, but Sandra was, how should I put this, a little too intense for me. I have no problem with a woman taking the lead, sexually; in fact, my experience has been that it is often quite pleasurable when your partner lets you know exactly what she likes and what she expects of you. In Sandra’s case, at times I had the feeling that we were involved in some sort of contest, one that she was determined to win. I don’t look at sex as competition. For me, it’s more a matter of cooperation, saying let’s see how good we can make each other feel.
At any rate, I tiptoed over to the edge of the bed, intending to give Sandra a light kiss and say goodnight. As I approached, however, I saw that her eyes were open.
She smiled up at me and said, “That was fun.”
“It certainly was,” I agreed.
She reached up with both arms, causing the sheet to slide down and expose her breasts. I took a deep breath.
“How about a hug and a kiss before you go, cowboy?”
“An offer I can’t refuse,” I told her, as I leaned down to hold her and give her a kiss.
Just for a minute, I had the idea that she was going to try to pull me back into bed with her, but then she released her hold on me, leaned back, and smiled.
“I mean it, Jeremy. That was more fun than I’ve had in quite a while. Anytime you want to go for a rerun, just give me a call, hear?”
“I hear you,” I said. “Maybe next time we can begin with dinner or a movie.”
“That’d be nice,” she said, with a yawn, “as long as we end up back here. You gonna find your way out okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “Go back to sleep.”
I picked up my sports coat from the floor as I walked down the hallway from her bedroom, made sure the latch on her door was set to lock, then let myself out. It was entirely possible that I’d be seeing Sandra again, but I doubted if we’d be sitting in rockers on our front porch forty or fifty years from now, playing with our grandchildren. No problem there. At the moment, she was beautiful and available and completely okay with the two of us seeing each other on an occasional basis. So was I. Available and okay with the occasional thing, I mean.
Oh, all right. Beautiful, too.
* * *
When I got home, I crawled into my bed and slept until nine that morning, when I got up and put in five or six miles to clear the cobwebs. When I returned from the run, I grabbed the cordless phone and, looking at the number on the card that Elias Chaney had given me, dialed the offices of Chaney and Cox. While I waited for someone to answer, I began preparing my breakfast. Orange juice, Shredded Wheat with milk and strawberries, and a glass of water. I’d read somewhere that it was a good idea to drink a big glass of water before breakfast each morning, along with several more glasses throughout the remainder of the day, so I was giving it a try, although I’d figured out pretty quickly that I shouldn’t do it on days when I wouldn’t have ready access to a bathroom.
“Chaney and Cox. How may I help you?”
“Melanie? Jeremy Barnes here.”
“Oh, hi, Jeremy. How are you?”
“Well, that depends. Is the BF still on the scene?”
She gave that little giggle and said, “Yes, he is.”
“Oh. Well, then I’m okay, but certainly not wonderful.”
“What can I do for you, Jeremy?” she asked.
“Is Cameron McKenzie in?”
“Yes, he is. Would you like me to connect you?”
“Please.”
“Okay, but first, let me put you through to Mr. Chaney. He said if you called or came by, he’d like to speak with you.”
“Fine.”
After a wait of about a minute, the partner came on the line.
“Mr. Barnes, this is Elias Chaney. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me.”
“No problem, Mr. Chaney. What can I do for you?”
“We were just wondering if you’d made any progress on the Pendleton thing.”
By “the Pendleton thing,” I assumed he meant the murder of one of his employees, but I let that go.
“I’m not sure,” I told him. “I’m still just acquiring information.”
“Yes. I understand that you spoke to Sandra Richardson yesterday. Was that helpful?”
“It might be. I don’t know yet.”
“Hmmm. And whom are you contacting this morning?”
If we’d been in the same room, I could have looked at him funny for that whom thing. Instead, I said, “I’m going to talk with Cameron McKenzie.”
“I see,” he said. Then there was a pause. “You know, Mr. Barnes, I hope you remember what we told you yesterday. Terry’s death has upset everyone here at the firm, and I would hate to have our employees further burdened by questions which might serve as a reminder of the tragedy we’ve all suffered.”
Not to mention the potential drop in billable hours, I thought.
“I promise to be as circumspect as possible, Mr. Chaney,” I said.
“I really can’t imagine what Cameron could tell you that would be of any assistance.”
“Then my conversation with him will be brief, won’t it?” I asked.
“Well . . . yes, of course. I’ll have Melanie connect you with Cameron now.”
Within a few seconds, another voice said, “Cameron McKenzie here.”
“Mr. McKenzie, my name is Jeremy Barnes. I’m investigating the death of Terry Pendleton. Would it be possible for us to get together for a few minutes today?”
“I’d heard that Terry’s wife had hired someone. Can’t say I understand why, but that’s her business. Sure, I can spare some time today. You free for lunch, Mr. Barnes?”
“Tell me when and where.”
“Café Amante, noon. I’ll reserve a table.”
“Great. I’ll see you there.”
That gave me just enough time to shave, shower and do a little work in the office before starting downtown. I especially wanted to talk to Cameron before I saw Rachel Pendleton again. If her husband had been cheating on her, the time would come when I would have to talk to her about it, a conversation I definitely did not look forward to. She had hired me to look into her husband’s murder, not uncover any infidelities on his part.
* * *
I drove the Parkway East to the Stanwix Street exit, then a few blocks to the parking garage across the street from Fifth Avenue Place, a sort of high-rise mini-mall. Café Amante is on the second floor. Because of its central location i
n Pittsburgh’s business district, along with a wall of glass overlooking the Golden Triangle, it’s a popular lunch spot with people who work downtown. I told the hostess I was dining with Mr. McKenzie, and she nodded and asked me to follow her. So I did.
Chapter 19
Cameron McKenzie was so good-looking he should have been on one of the afternoon soaps. About my height, slender build, medium-length dark hair, blue eyes, brilliant smile, the whole package. In her senior year at UCLA, Angie had received some sort of award at a sports banquet, and for reasons that will remain forever mystifying, one of the presenters at the affair was a supermodel, who happened to be sitting right next to Angie. As I took a seat across the table from Cameron, I realized what Ang had meant when she said that she’d suddenly begun questioning her makeup, her dress, her shoes, anything and everything about her appearance that night. I’d like to be able to at least say that Cameron dressed poorly, but, of course, his dark blue suit was expensively cut and fit him beautifully. He even had a pocket watch, for God’s sake, which actually looked good on him. I had to give Sandra Richardson credit for turning this guy down, even if he was engaged. Hell, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say no if he asked me for a date.
A waitress came right over and asked if she could get us anything to drink.
“Just some iced tea for me, Janene,” Cameron said. “Mr. Barnes, how about you? A glass of wine?”
“Iced tea for me, too,” I told Janene, and she left to get our beverages.
“Really,” Cameron said, “if you’d like some wine, be my guest. I have a lot of work to do this afternoon, or I’d join you. And, by the way, lunch is on me.”
“Did I just become a business expense?” I asked him.
“Ask me how the Dickinson case is going,” he said.
“How’s the Dickinson case going?” I asked.
He smiled and put his hands out to his sides, palms up.
“There you go.”
Janene reappeared with our iced tea, and we ordered our lunches. Cameron opted for the tuna steak sandwich, while I decided to try the salmon salad. When Janene left again, Cameron turned to me with a serious look on his face.
“So, Mr. Barnes, as I told you this morning, I’m not sure I understand why Terry’s wife hired a private investigator.”
“She seems to think there’s more to her husband’s death than the mugging story,” I told him.
“This is the first I’ve heard of Terry’s murder being anything but what the police said.”
“The official version may be the truth,” I said. “Mrs. Pendleton just wants to make sure. Did you know Terry well?”
“Yeah, fairly well. I mean, we didn’t hang out together all the time or anything like that, but we had lunch together every once in a while, and we worked on several projects together at the firm. Why do you ask?”
“There are a few discrepancies we’d like to clear up. For instance, to the best of your knowledge, was Terry about to be made a partner at Chaney and Cox?”
“Partner? Hardly. Eventually, yeah, we both expected to be offered partnerships, but not for at least a few years yet. Why?”
“His wife says that the night before his death, Terry told her he thought he’d make partner pretty soon.”
“Boy, I don’t know what to say about that. Terry and I came to the firm at about the same time, and we were both on the same track as far as partnership was concerned. In fact, a few weeks ago, we had lunch right here, and we talked about whether it would be just a few years or maybe a little longer before we started making the big bucks.”
I speculated on how much Cameron must be making already. Perspective is everything.
“So the amount of time it takes to be offered a partnership is about the same for everyone?”
“Well, not exactly,” he said. “It’s more the amount of time you’ve put in at Chaney and Cox, as opposed to how many years you’ve been a lawyer altogether. For instance, Terry and I both worked at other firms before starting at C&C. Sandra Richardson is about our age, but the firm hired her right out of law school, so she’ll probably make partner before I do. Not that I blame Elias and William for wanting to keep sexy Sandy around. If I were in charge, I’d do the same thing. I mean, there’s someone whose legal briefs I’d like to examine.”
Ignoring that, I said, “This may not be the best segue into my next question, and there’s really no polite way of asking, but do you know anything about Terry’s marriage?”
“Far as I know, he and his wife got along okay.”
“Let me be more specific. Do you know if he had any affairs?”
“Oh, well, that’s a different matter. I thought you meant was the marriage in trouble. Heck, sure Terry had a little something on the side, but who doesn’t, right?”
“Who, indeed,” I agreed. Sounded like a rap. Or something from Dr. Seuss.
Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of our lunches. After we’d both eaten a little, Cameron leaned over the table a bit and said, in a low voice, “Look, we’re both men of the world here, right? We both know the score.”
Not only did I not know the score, but I was pretty sure old Cameron and I didn’t even play the same game, but now wasn’t the time to debate that with him.
“I mean,” he continued, “you gotta have the wife, for the job, you know. Somebody who looks good on your arm at the right parties and charity events. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself a little every once in a while, too.”
“How about Terry? Who’d he enjoy himself with?”
Yes, I know it should be with whom did he enjoy himself, but I’ve found if you go around using proper grammar, people look at you funny.
“Hmm,” he said. “The only one I know about for sure is this babe who’s a cocktail waitress at a bar out in the ‘burbs, place called The Joker’s Wild, in Penn Hills. We met her there at a bachelor’s party a few months ago. She and Terry seemed to hit it off, and I know he saw her at least a couple of times after that, but it wasn’t anything serious, just a little diversion, you know.”
“Sure,” I said. “You happen to know her name?”
“Dee-Dee, I think. I remember she was blonde and leggy. Great ass, too. I was thinking about putting a move on her myself, but Terry beat me to it. Well, more power to him, I thought. Besides, plenty more where that one came from.”
“Anybody else you know of who Terry might have had a little diversion with?”
“Un-uh,” he said. “Just this Dee-Dee. You really think any of this has anything to do with Terry’s death?”
“I doubt it,” I said. “But that’s part of my job, running down information that turns out to be irrelevant to the job I was hired to do. Until I run it down, I don’t know if it’s important.”
“Yeah, I see your point.”
We’d finished our lunches by this time, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say to Cameron, so I thanked him for his time and the meal and got up to leave. As I stood, though, I did think of one more question.
“Let me ask you something,” I told him. “Just curious. You’re engaged, right?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “How’d you know that?”
“Someone at the firm mentioned it to me. Anyway, after you’re married, what if your wife wanted to have a little diversion of her own every once in a while. Would you have any problem with that?”
He frowned and said, “Why the hell would Ellen want to do that? It’s not like I wouldn’t be fucking her anymore. She’ll have the house to take care of, kids eventually, things to do in the community. Christ, even if she wanted to, where would she find the time? That doesn’t make any sense.”
There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that, so I gave him my card, thanked him again, and turned to leave. I stopped, though, and asked, “When’s the wedding?”
“September,” he said.
“Well, good luck,” I told him.
“Hey, thanks, man,” he said, and he seemed sincere
. “That’s damn nice of you.”
As I walked out of the restaurant, I thought, Yeah, that’s me. Damn nice Jeremy.
At least Ellen had a few months yet to reconsider.
Chapter 20
I had a lot to think about when I left Café Amante. I wasn’t any closer to knowing who killed Terry Pendleton, but I was closer to knowing that Terry had been unfaithful to his wife. Before I talked to Rachel about that, though, I wanted to confirm the affair with Dee-Dee, so I stopped at a pay telephone in the lobby of Fifth Avenue Place and looked up the number for The Joker’s Wild. I dialed the number, and, after several rings, a male voice answered.
“Joker’s Wild.”
“Hi, is Dee-Dee in yet?” I asked.
“Nah, she ain’t workin’ today. She’ll be in tomorrow night, seven to two.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said, and hung up.
As I walked back to my car, I thought about my conversation with Cameron. Just as Carson Wykcoff had assumed that, as a white person, I would share his racist views, Cameron had assumed that, as a male, I would share his attitude toward women. I was beginning to wonder if anyone, anywhere, thought I had viewpoints and opinions that were unique to me.
Since I couldn’t see Dee-Dee until the next night, the rest of the day stretched out in front of me like a blank canvas.
Jeez, I gotta spend less time around my kid brother.
Driving home, I thought about calling Dennis and seeing if he wanted to get together for dinner, but then I remembered that he’d said something about having to attend an evening community meeting in the Homewood-Brushton area. Then I thought about calling Angie and Simon, see if they wanted some company for a while. But this was a school night, so I knew Ang would be busy, and the kids probably had schoolwork to do. Maybe Simon would like to go out for a while. Just the two of us, hit some bars, chat up some chicks. Problem there was that neither one of us was big on bars, and Simon wasn’t into little diversions from his marriage.
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