Page 16 of Puzzle for Two

Alton snorted, but returned the smile.

“Forgive me, but you seem a little…refined to be a PI.”

“Isrefinedcode for gay?” Zach inquired.

Alton looked momentarily self-conscious. “No. Not at all. I meant you seem…educated.”

Zach shrugged. “I finished college with a degree in accounting. I have my CPA license.”

“A CPA?Now Iamsurprised.” Actually, Alton looked more thoughtful than surprised.

This was the first glimmer of personal interest he’d shown since he’d arrived in his chauffeured Bentley Mulsanne to pick Zach up on Friday evening. That wasn’t to say that Alton hadn’t been polite and pleasant over the course of the weekend. He had been unfailingly polite and indifferently pleasant. But it was clear to Zach he’d been relegated to the role of background actor from the minute he slid into the back seat of that Bentley.

Which probably made sense. From Alton’s viewpoint, Zach was largely there for show. From Zach’s viewpoint, spending the weekend at Pebble Beach was mostly slowing his investigation into who might want Alton out of the way. He’d tried bringing this point up to Alton on the drive from Ensenada del Sello, but Alton had dismissed Zach’s concerns. Alton’s immediate priority was to create the illusion that he and Zach were romantically involved.

Given that Alton believed Zora was behind the death threats, maybe he imagined that convincing her he was actually gay was the fastest way to diffuse her anger and desire to see him punished? Zach could understand and sympathize where Alton was coming from, but he thought the hope for a quick and painless resolution was misplaced. Not least because it was hard to imagine that anyone watching them together over the past thirty-six hours would be fooled into thinking they were intimate, let alone in love.

Alton was a little bit of what Pop would have called acold fish.

Not that Zach wanted anything else from his employer—yeesh!—but this charade wasn’t going to fool anyone, especially someone who presumably knew Alton as well as his wife did. Of course, this was only a practice run, and the few people they had run into so far were business acquaintances of Alton’s, like the trio of potential investors he’d spent most of Saturday with on the links.

To Zach’s bafflement—and frustration—he had not been included in the day’s golfing. Alton had explained that his chauffeur, Chico Martinez, was also his bodyguard, so it made more sense for Chico, in the guise of caddy, to accompany him. Zach had been handed a roll of bills and told to amuse himself for the afternoon. He had also received instructions to mentionmy boyfriend Altonas much as possible.

Which was idiotic. If he and Alton were really having an illicit affair, the last thing Zach would be doing was name-dropping his sugar daddy everywhere. Alton had bad instincts, which was something to keep in mind moving forward.

Then again, who was Zach to talk, given that he had gone against his own instincts by taking the job to begin with?

Not that the job didn’t have considerable perks.

For one thing, the accommodations were world class. Half hidden by gardens and majestic Monterey pines, the Inn at Spanish Bay was bordered by wild coastline on one side and miles of manicured Scottish-style links on the other. The charming two-bedroom suite Alton had booked included a fireplace, a private patio, and a ridiculously spacious bathroom with a double shower and free-standing deep soaking tub. From the fresh flowers to the paintings on the wall, no detail had been overlooked. The meals, the cocktails—somanycocktails—the Scottish piper at sunset, everything about the hotel was perfect.

Excluding the company.

Alton interrupted Zach’s rueful reflections with one of his light, ironic laughs. “It seems you have hidden facets, Zach. Once again, I’m reassured I made the right choice by not hiring that lout on the other side of the shopping center.”

Lout.Zach repressed a grin. It wasn’t easy. Flint certainly seemed to have gotten under Alton’s skin during what sounded like a pretty brief encounter. Zach couldn’t help thinking that it was more likely Flint who had turned down Alton than the other way around. But maybe not. Alton usually got what he wanted.

He asked, curious, “What about you? Did you always want to be a toymaker?”

Alton grimaced. “I don’t think the Beacher Toy Company makestoysso much as works of art. Our creations are for the parents of children as much as the children.”

“Ah.”

Maybe Zach sounded unconvinced because Alton said, “We design beautiful playthings intended to evoke a sense of nostalgia and tradition. The expectation is that our work will be handed down through each generation, treasured more with each generation.”

Zach nodded, said peaceably, “Sure.”

The Beacher Toy Company was a multimillion-dollar enterprise, so presumably Alton understood his target market. Making toys for parents rather than children seemed counterintuitive to Zach. But his family wasn’t the hand-down-the-treasures-through-each-generation kind. He’d hung onto a few of his favorite comic books and a couple of Hot Wheel cars, and that was about it for the mementos of his childhood. Nor did he plan on having offspring to pass those items on to. Maybe if he ever had any nieces and nephews? But Brooke had already proclaimed she was never having kids.

Alton began, “You’re not alone in your thinking. My brother Ran—”

“This time you’ve gone too far, Beacher!”

The man who had materialized out of the mist to loom over their table was maybe in his mid-forties. He was squat and heavyset with slightly protuberant gray eyes and salt-and-pepper hair cut in the style of Julius Caesar. His voice was deep and croaky, like a frog’s—in fact, he kind of looked like a toad. A well-dressed toad. His baggy brown golf pants were not the kind of thing you picked up at Target or Walmart, and his green lambswool sweater looked straight off the loom of a croft in the Hebrides.

Alton put his coffee cup down and offered a tight little smile. “Hello, Rusty. I didn’t realize you were staying here this weekend.”

Zach studied the newcomer. This would be Ronald (Rusty) Jordan, owner and CEO of Old Timey Fun Ltd. and Alton’s oldest friend and business rival. While Alton didn’t look thrilled to see Rusty, he also didn’t seem unduly alarmed, despite Rusty’s aggressive posture. But Zach was alarmed. He was alarmed that Chico Martinez, Alton’s supposed bodyguard, was nowhere in sight.

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