“I won’t be touching the outside except to paint it.”
“They won’t believe that. Even if you show them the blueprints, they’ll want more information and assurances.”
Dad would know. He’d been pitting himself against the town’s Planning Commission for years.
“I’ve got all the permits lined up and the blueprints speak for themselves. Mac intends to make a speech, too. I think we’ll get through it, but I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.”
“Good.” He sipped his coffee. “Something else is still bugging you. Talk to me.”
I sighed. “It just bothers me that you knew Jesse had a girlfriend and I didn’t. How could I be so blind?”
“Don’t take it so hard,” he said. “Guys talk about things around other guys that they wouldn’t think of bringing up in front of a woman—especially one young enough to be their daughter. Jesse was old school. A man’s man. Went into the service when he was a kid and stayed there until he was old enough to retire. He would no more talk to you about a woman he was dating than he would wear flowers in his hair.”
“I guess so.” But even if Jesse never said anything, I still felt silly for never having noticed that something in his life had changed so dramatically.
“Did you ever meet her?” I asked.
“The girlfriend? No, but I heard she was hot.”
“Oh, please.” I laughed at the typical male response. “She was at the memorial service and she was at Jane’s party last night. I’m surprised you didn’t chat her up.”
“She was there?”
“Yeah. She was talking to Jane for a while out in the garden.”
“Oh.” He nodded slowly. “I think I saw her but didn’t get a chance to meet her. Nice-looking woman. Does she live in the area?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering.”
Great. All I needed was to have my father start dating the woman who still held the number-five spot on my suspect list. I supposed that if she was as pleasant and innocent as she seemed to be, maybe I wouldn’t mind if Dad wanted to get to know her better.
“She lives down in Blue Point,” I said.
“You should see your face,” he said, laughing. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking for a steady girlfriend.”
I smiled. “No, you prefer the one-week Wilma types.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I just want you to have a good time, be safe, and don’t get tied up with some gold digger.”
He laughed again. “You sound like me lecturing you.”
I joined in the laughter, but inside I was serious. There were plenty of women who would love to get their hands on Dad’s bank account. He had been a successful contractor for most of his life and had built many of the luxury homes around town and a number of mansions out on the Alisal Cliffs. He had a hefty bank balance, even if he came across as a working-class guy.
Uncle Pete was similar. He owned vineyards and a popular winery and the best Italian restaurant in town, but he wore old jeans and flannel shirts rolled up to his elbows and still liked to toil in the fields with the rest of the guys.
Together, they were quite the twosome when it came to the ladies. Any older woman visiting Lighthouse Cove for a week or two was fair game. Dad and Uncle Pete didn’t date the locals. One-week flings were their specialty. So I didn’t have much hope of Dad settling down with a nice, attractive woman like Althea Tannis anytime soon. It was just as well, since Althea was still getting over Jesse’s death. More than anything else, she would temporarily need a man for his shoulder to cry on.
Dad made me promise again to be careful and to call him if I needed help with anything. Once he left, I cleaned up the kitchen and then telephoned Lizzie to see if she could meet me to talk about her chat last night with Bob and Ned. Funny how I thought of the two men as a duo, since they weren’t. Either one of them could’ve been out to get Jesse.
Lizzie said she was about to take a thirty-minute break from Paper Moon, the books and paper arts store that she and Hal owned, so I grabbed my purse and dashed down to the town square. We met at the coffeehouse three doors down from her shop.
“What did you find out?” I asked as soon as we each had a café latte and were able to snag a table far enough away from prying eyes and ears.
“I doubt Bob or Ned had anything to do with Jesse’s death,” she said. “First of all, they’re both sweet guys and I can’t see them doing something so awful.”
“Yeah, I know.” I had come to the same conclusion, but I was still disappointed to hear Lizzie validate it.
“Second,” she continued, “they’re really old. I mean, Ned could probably swing a tennis racket, but a sledgehammer? No way. And I doubt that Bob could even manage the tennis racket. How could either of them punch that hole in the wall?”