“No, I have my own business. An internet services platform to help startups in Florida. Business is booming. I’m printing money.”
“Congrats! The Aston Martin outside looks new.”
“It is. I understand you want to talk about Dennis.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m sure he told you that he spent the night with me when Julia Cummins was killed.”
“He did.”
“Dennis wouldn’t hurt a fly,” she said.
“No flies were hurt. It was his ex-girlfriend who was murdered.”
She shifted, crossed her legs, and did the same with her arms. A classic defensive posture during questioning. Decker had expected to see it at some point, just not this soon.
“When did he get to your house that night?”
“Oh, around eight.”
“And when did he leave?”
“The next morning. He was due in court.”
“He never left you that night?” asked Decker.
“To use the bathroom.”
“But he never left the house?”
She looked a little less certain and a little more defiant. “He ran to the liquor store to get some more gin.”
“How long was he gone?”
“Fifteen-twenty minutes, tops.”
“What time was this?”
“Around midnight.”
“Twenty minutes, you’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes! It’s the all-night place down on the right before you turn into my neighborhood. Ricardos.”
“He ever get physical with you? Abusive?”
“Never. If he did, it would be over in two seconds. I don’t tolerate that.”
“Some men don’t care if women don’t like it.”
“Dennis is not that kind of guy. He’s very nice and gentle.”
“A gentle man with a gun.”
“He has every right to protect himself.”
“Did he ever mention Julia Cummins to you?” he asked.
“A few times. And I met her once.”
Decker stiffened. “Really, when was that?”
“Dennis and I had been dating for maybe a month. We were at a restaurant, a little French bistro in Naples called Café Midi. She was there.”
“Alone?” said Decker.
“No, she had some kid with her.”
“Kid?”
“I call him a kid, but he was huge. Looked like an athlete.”
“Her son, Tyler.” Decker showed her a photo on his phone.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Was there anyone else with her?”
“Yes, an older woman. Rail thin with badly permed hair, and she reeked of alcohol.”
“Doris Kline?”
“I don’t know. She never said her name. But she looked three sheets to the wind.”
“So, what happened?”
“Dennis took me over to their table and we said hello. Frankly, I think Dennis did it to sort of show me off to Cummins.”
“How did she react?”
“She was pleasant. We spoke for a bit and that was it. We left.”
“What was your impression of the judge?” asked Decker.
“She seemed very put together. I could see why Dennis would be attracted to her. Her friend was a very different sort. I wouldn’t have necessarily put them together.”
“They’re neighbors. Did you speak to Tyler?”
“No, but he did give me the eye.” She smiled demurely. “He’s clearly a red-blooded American male.”
“Anything else you can tell me?”
“Just that I’m certain Dennis had nothing to do with what happened. I’ve dated guys who could be violent, creepy, and controlling, Agent Decker. They try to hide it but they give off a definite vibe after a while. Dennis has none of that.”
“Some hide it better than others.”
“I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I bark up lots of trees. Till I find the right one.”
“I understand that a man was also found dead at her house,” she said.
“That’s right.”
“Were they dating?” Chase asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“How can you not be sure? Didn’t anyone know?”
“It’s complicated,” replied Decker.
“I guess murder is often complicated.”
“Actually, the act of murder is usually pretty simple. It’s everything else that’s complicated.”
Chapter 53
“Hey, Tyler, is your dad home?” asked Decker.
Tyler had just answered his knock on the condo door. He had on khaki shorts and an untucked short-sleeved shirt.
“He’s getting ready. We’re going out to dinner.”
“Mind if I come in and wait?”
“I guess not.”
He led Decker into an adjoining room and they sat down. A storm was forming out over the Gulf. Its framing in the broad windows served as a capable analogy to what was going on in Decker’s head.
“How’s the investigation going?” mumbled Tyler. “Have you found out stuff?”
“We’re getting there. Do you remember a guy and a woman coming up to you at a restaurant in Naples called Café Midi?” When Tyler looked uncertain, he added, “I think Doris Kline was with you, and the woman was tall, blond, and beautiful. You sort of ran your gaze over her.” He kept his tone diplomatic.
Tyler grinned. “Oh, yeah. Her. Damn, I mean, wow. She was, like, wow. And she was falling out of that dress. I wish I’d gotten a picture of her.”
“Yeah. Did you know the guy?”
“No. But from how he and my mom were talking, I supposed he was a lawyer. They were talking like that anyway.”
“Actually, he and your mom had dated.”
Tyler looked surprised. “Really? Then it was a good thing Dad hadn’t joined us yet.”
“Wait a minute, your father was there?”
“He was just coming in, I think, when the guy and the lady were getting ready to leave.”
“Why was your father having dinner with you and your mother?”
“It was my birthday.”
“Did your father overhear anything from the man?”
“I don’t know. Hell, all my attention was on the woman, if you want to know the truth. But he came up to the table right after they walked off. So Dad had to be close by. Why? What does that matter?”
“It might not.”
“Tyler?” a voice called out.
“In here, Dad.”
A few moments later Barry Davidson walked into the room, adjusting the cuffs of his white dress shirt. He had on dark gray slacks and brown tasseled loafers.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when he spied Decker.
“Just a few more questions, Mr. Davidson.”
“Tyler and I are going out to dinner. And when the hell are you going to release Julia’s remains? We have to... we have to do the service.” He glanced anxiously at his son. “She... she wanted to be cremated.”
“It won’t be long,” replied Decker.
Davidson slumped down in a chair after mixing himself a drink from the bar against the wall. Tyler silently watched him do this, his features full of disgust.
“What questions?” asked Davidson.
“I’m going to tell you some things in return for information.”
“What things?”
“The man who was killed at your ex-wife’s home was not protecting her. He was sleeping with her.”
Tyler blurted out, “What? Sleeping with Mom?”
Decker kept his gaze on Davidson. “You don’t look surprised, Mr. Davidson.”
“Julia could do what she wanted. It’s none of my business.”
“Did you know about their... relationship?”
“No, but like I said, she could do what she wanted.”
“But she obviously wanted to keep it on the Q.T.”
“What do you mean, specifically?”
“She used this subterfuge that she had been receiving threats to explain his being there.”
“But she had been getting threats,” interjected Tyler. “She told me so. Right, Dad?”