“But why Ned Lowe in particular? As far as I know, Pete never even met the man.”
“You can’t be sure of that, and neither can I. Pete kept a lot of information to himself. The point is, he was working for Byrd-Shine when the lawsuit was filed. It was their job to find dirt on Taryn Sizemore, which apparently they did. Pete might have learned something just as damning about Ned Lowe. The list is a roster of women, and I believe all of them are tied to Ned Lowe in some way. Girlfriends, wives—romantic interests would be my guess. What I don’t know is why the list constitutes a threat.”
“Pure speculation.”
“Of course it is. On the other hand, if Pete blackmailed one victim, why not two?”
“Why are you always so quick to put him in the wrong?”
“I’m not. I’m just trying to construct an explanation for all the bits and pieces.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not buying it.”
“You don’t have to be so cranky.”
“I’m not cranky!”
“Good. Fine. May I continue then?”
“Have at it.”
“Taryn Sizemore sued Ned Lowe for stalking and threats. Intentional infliction of emotional harm, to use the proper legal term. Maybe Pete found out more about Lowe than he should have.”
“You said the lawsuit was dead.”
“It is, but what if Lowe turned out to be vulnerable in some other way? What if Pete had evidence that was damaging?”
“Like what?” she said, exasperated.
“I don’t know. Maybe Lowe doesn’t know, either. My point is Pete had something on the guy.”
“Can you hear yourself? Do you see how unfair you’re being? In your view, if something bad went down, Pete must have been at the heart of it, hoping to make a buck.”
“I’m not accusing him of anything.”
“Yes, you are! You’re suggesting he had the goods on Ned Lowe and was extorting money to keep quiet.”
“That’s not exactly unprecedented in Pete’s repertoire of bad behavior.”
She held a hand up. “Enough. I’m tired. I’ve had a hard day. We can talk about this tomorrow. Right now I’m turning off the light.”
Which is what she did.
I sat for a moment, nonplussed, and then padded back up the spiral stairs, got into bed, and turned out my own light. I knew she was angry, but I felt curiously unaffected. So she was pissed off? Big deal. I still thought the idea had merit. She must have thought so too, or why get so bent out of shape?
15
In the morning, I slipped out of the studio before Ruthie was up and got in my three-mile run. By the time I returned, bringing in the morning paper, the sofa bed was made and she was in the shower. I put on a pot of coffee and set out the milk, a box of Cheerios, two bowls, and two spoons. I turned on the television set with the sound muted. When she emerged from the bathroom, showered and dressed, we ate our cereal while we passed sections of the paper back and forth. I noticed she’d repacked her overnight bag, which was now resting by the front door.
“You sure you don’t want to stay one more night?”
“Don’t think so. I’ll sleep better in my own bed.”
“I can relate to that,” I said.
Pete’s name was never mentioned, and neither of us made reference to our little chat the night before. This is not a bad strategy. The practice of baring all, analyzing every nuance embedded in a quarrel, is a surefire way to keep an argument alive. Better to establish a temporary peace and revisit the conflict later. Often, by then, both parties have decided the issue isn’t worth the relationship.
As we were preparing to leave for Ruthie’s, Henry appeared on my doorstep. He was still in the dark about this latest development, so I gave him a quick rundown on the intruder and the changing of the locks. “We’re on our way over to her house now to see if we can figure out how the guy got in.”
Henry was shaking his head. “Terrible.”
“All’s good with you?” I asked.
“Actually I have to go out shortly, and I was going to ask you to move your vehicle so I can get my marketing done.”
She held up her car keys. “I’m on it, champ.”
He turned to me. “I wonder if I might have a word with you? It won’t take two shakes.”
Ruthie picked up her overnight bag. “I’ll go on over in my car, and you can follow in yours when it suits.”
“You’re okay going in the house on your own?”
She waved away the idea. “If I get nervous, I’ll wait for you on the back porch.”