Read (2012) Cross-Border Murder for Free Online Page B

“One night as I was leaving a party I came across her and Dean Gooden going at it pretty heavily in the back of a car. I don’t think they saw me.” He stared down at his drink. “It did not strike me as like her. Afterward I concluded that she was probably angry at her husband and wanted to retaliate in kind. Who knows, maybe she was also desperately in need of some affection. Who gave it to her probably didn’t matter. Peter Gooden was simply there. Certainly nothing developed between them. And no gossip followed. So I presume it was an isolated incident.” There was sweat on his forehead. He wiped at it with a linen handkerchief. His gnome-like head looked up at me. “I meant it,” he said, “when I said I believed she was truly a lady. Naomi wasn’t.”
    “And Stella?”
    He frowned. “Strange, she was one I could never quite figure out.”
     

CHAPTER FOUR  
     
    “Where to now.” Gina asked as we descended the old stairwell which led to the main door.
    “I’m going to drop you off at the motel.”
    “And then what are you going to do?”
    “Go home, make some notes, and decide where to go from there.”
    “Maybe I could help you.”
    “I work better alone. Thanks anyway.”
    We headed towards the car.
    She sighed. “Once a bachelor, always a bachelor.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “I read somewhere that bachelors can’t bear the idea of others intruding on their mental turf.”
    “It must have been in one of those women’s magazines.”
    “Do you think the lead he gave us is worth anything?” She asked, changing the subject.
    “I don’t know. It may be a wild goose chase.”
    “But will you look into it?”
    “Yes. I suppose so. No choice really.”
    “When you pressed him about Monaghan and this guy Bull he became evasive. Or did you notice that?”
    “Yeah, I did.”
    “And scared. Or at least uneasy. His left eyelid kept fluttering.”
    “That may be just something physiological. A result of too much alcohol.”
    “Or emotional. If he’s the guilty one, he’d have reason to be uneasy, even scared. It would also explain why he would try to send us off on a wild goose chase.”
    “When I went back, He told me that he used to have the office next to Monaghan’s. They obviously didn’t get along. He was questioned at the time. And he admitted he didn’t have an alibi for the night that Monaghan was murdered.”
    “When you went back to speak to him, did he mention my mother’s tryst with Peter Gooden?”
    My mouth opened with surprise. But I clamped it shut without saying anything.
    “He did, didn’t he!”
    I nodded. “But only because I pushed him. I had the feeling he knew something about your parents that he did not want to talk about in front of you.”
    “You weren’t going to tell me about it, were you?”
    “No. How did you come to know about it?”
    “I heard my parents arguing one night. It came up. My mother maintained it was a one night stand and foolish. I’m sure my parents put it behind them. It had nothing to do with my father leaving us stranded in Portland.” She paused while I negotiated a busy traffic intersection. “And he didn’t mention my father’s letter?”
    I had noted that too. And neither had Gooden. Innocent omissions? Too soon, certainly, to draw any serious inferences.
    As we neared the motel she asked, “do you have any family?”
    “A brother in Toronto and a sister in Vancouver.”
    “Were you ever married?”
    “No.”
    “Gay?”
    “No. Just never met the woman I wanted to share my life with.”
    “Or a woman whose life you wanted to share.”
    I gave her a grin. “That may sound more politically correct. But it doesn’t correspond to the facts. My concern was more selfish. Maybe I only went out with women who felt the same way. They probably didn’t want to share their life with me either.”
    We stopped in front of the motel.
    “So no woman tried to rope you into marriage?”
    “Nope. And you,” I asked,