“Where is it?”
“Downtown Santa Teresa. The penthouse suite in a brand-new office building. Eighteen months it sat. Teddy was living in Bel Air by then and she got the bright idea we should get the place spiffed up, have a brochure printed, and promote the listing with real estate agents in Beverly Hills. Sure enough, a hotshot actor came along and paid full freight. This was a month ago. Ten-day escrow, all cash, and no contingencies. Close of sale I knew she’d whip in there and take everything that wasn’t nailed down, so I emptied the place before she could. She ended with a million in cash. You know what I got? Only the stuff I managed to sneak out from under her nose. Real estate goes in her column, used furniture in mine.”
He waited for my reaction, hoping for sympathy, which he clearly felt was warranted. I made a noncommittal mouth noise. These were not problems I could readily relate to.
33
I tried another subject, thinking a change in category might lighten the mood. “Do you and Teddy have children?”
“Not her. I have three with my first wife. The kids adored Teddy, but don’t have much use for this new one. They can’t believe I messed up. They’re barely speaking to me. Anyway, enough of that.”
I thought he meant he’d talked enough about Teddy and we were moving on to something else. But he said, “How did you meet her?”
“Who?”
“Teddy. I asked Nash and he said you’d tell me.”
“She called my office and said she needed help with a personal matter. The address she gave was the Clipper estate, so that’s where we met.”
I told him about “Hallie Bettancourt” and her sob story about the baby she gave up for adoption. “I assumed it was all true. She said her father was an architect who tore down the original mansion and designed the contemporary residence that’s up there now. Sounded right to me, and the setup was so elaborate, it never dawned on me the scene was arranged for my benefit.”
“Teddy in a nutshell. Why’d she pick you?”
“She said she wanted to hire a woman because she thought she’d find a sympathetic ear. This was one of the few things she said that still rings true in retrospect. She also said she needed a go-between so she could keep her name out of it. I think that was true as well.”
I could see the charade didn’t make any more sense to him than it had to me. I went on to describe how I acquired the contact information on Christian Satterfield, which I sent her in my report; that having found out the bills she’d paid me were marked, I then went back to the property, hoping to pick up a lead to her whereabouts, but the place was clean except for a paper clip I found on the deck. “That was the end of it as far as I was concerned.
“They must have been keeping an eye on him because he was spotted in a dive called Lou’s having a long, intense conversation with a woman Nash thought might be Hallie Bettancourt. He called the next day to tell me Satterfield was parked outside the Shores in a limousine. On the off chance he was waiting for the mysterious Ms. Bettancourt, he suggested I check it out. Instead of Hallie, the woman who showed up was Kim Bass. The limousine took off for Los Angeles and I followed.”
“Kim is Teddy’s friend from way back. I hear she and Teddy are bunkmates these days.”
“Someone told me her husband’s in prison for embezzlement. Do you know where he’s incarcerated?”
“Lompoc. It’s been rough on her. I’d say she was homeless, but that’s only because she’s become a serial house sitter to avoid paying rent. She’s hanging in with him, but who knows why. The guy’s scum. The company he worked for went belly-up after the news came out. He’s probably the one who put Teddy together with Satterfield, because how else would she hear about a bum like him? What’s she want with that low-life kid anyway?”
“I thought that’s why we were putting our heads together, to see if we could figure it out.”
“She could be getting back at me for my little misstep with Stella. Sounds like the age difference is about the same.”
“I don’t think there’s anything romantic going on. At the Rodeo-Wilshire, the three of them were in separate rooms. Next morning, she took him to a stylist and then bought him a new wardrobe.”
“Boy toy,” he said. He powered down the treadmill and stepped off the track. “Flip that if you would,” he said, indicating the glowing power switch on the front of the machine.
I bent and flipped it to the Off position.
He said, “She’s come back to the house a couple of times, acting like she still owns the place. I told the staff to keep a close eye on her and escort her to the door as soon as possible. So far, I don’t think she’s walked away with anything, but I got tired of fending her off. I finally changed the locks and alarm codes and then beefed up the rest of my security.”