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tattoo of a similar design and you think, what?” He was giving me his skeptical detective tone and it bugged me.
      “Jakes. Not similar. The same! It can’t be a coincidence. I saw a napkin at Patti’s make-up station, too. The napkin had that fleur-de-lis on it. It was for a club in Los Angeles. They have to be connected!”
      “So you think she was here talking to Rockland about Randy?”
      I gave him an “isn’t it obvious” look.
      “Did she know Randy?”
      “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess it’s possible they met, at a party or something.” Jakes eyes were like little slits as he stared at me.
      “What?” I asked.
      “You’re doing it again.”
      “Doing what again?” I asked innocently, although I knew damn well what he was saying.
      “I told you you’re not a suspect, didn’t I? You remember that?”
      “Yes.”
      “So then you don’t have a reason to play detective, do you?”
      “I’m curious,” I said, “I didn’t go out and look for this situation. It fell squarely in my lap! And you have to go back inside, anyway. Right?”
      “I’ll ask around,” he said, leaning over to kiss me. “Should I take you and Sarah out to dinner tonight?”
      “How can you be so blasé’ about this? I’m on to something. I don’t know what, but it’s something.”
      “See you tonight.”
      He got up and walked up the stairs. I stood up, prepared to walk down.
      “I’m not getting involved. I’m just curious. Don’t forget to ask around, Detective!” I called after him.
      He waved a hand without looking back. I went down the stairs without looking back. I knew he was mildly annoyed with me but he’d still turn to watch me walk away.
      He always did.

CHAPTER TEN
     
     
      I went home, thinking about what Jakes had said about me not needing to play detective.
      A few times in the past few years I did have to play detective, once to clear myself, twice to find out who had killed one of my co-workers and an acquaintance. Was this so different? Maybe I wasn’t a suspect, but Randy was my ex-husband. More importantly, he was my daughter’s father. Wasn’t that reason enough to find out who killed him? Besides, like I had told Jakes, I hadn’t gone looking for this. It came looking for me. So it wasn’t really my doing, right?
      It was still early afternoon. More clouds were moving in off the horizon, which meant more rain on the way. I made myself some tea and contemplated the significance of the fleur-de-lis on Patti’s wrist and Randy’s arm. I thought about the napkin I had seen at Patti’s make-up station. What had it said? Trois something? I had taken a little French in high school so I knew “trois” was French for “three”. I decided to Google it.
      I grabbed my laptop and my tea and carried them outside so I could enjoy some sun before the next deluge. I opened up my computer and typed in “Trois nightclub in Los Angeles”. Nothing came up. I pondered how Patti and Randy could know each other, if, in fact, they did. I sat there for a moment and watched the water. It made me want to throw on my wetsuit and go surfing. Unfortunately, with all the rain the waters at most Los Angeles beaches were too dirty so I hadn’t been out in a long time. Sad to say, the run off from sewers made it dangerous for surfers. Ear infections, stomach ailments, not necessarily a risk you want to take just to catch a wave. It made me feel a little melancholy as I remembered that Randy and I had gotten interested in surfing together. One of those things we had done in Waikiki on our first vacation as a couple. We had a lot of fun together in those days. He was so handsome and charismatic and he was good to me. I know he loved me. He just loved money more. My money in particular.
      I couldn’t figure out how he would know Patti. I hadn’t worked with her before “The Bare and the Brazen,” and I started there long after Randy and I were