Page 17 of Puzzle for Two

Jordan was saying, “You could at least have the decency not to rub Zora’s nose in it.”

Alton smiled apologetically at Zach. “I’m afraid byit, Rusty means you, Zach.”

Jordan glanced dismissively at Zach. “I meanyou, Alton. This is about you. And only you. You’re going out of your way to humiliate Zora. She doesn’t deserve this. There’s no reason for it.”

“How do you know there’s no reason for it?” Alton demanded with sudden hostility. “You have no idea what goes on behind closed doors. But if you’re concerned formywife’s feelings, keep your mouth shut about this.”

Jordan’s flushed face grew even redder. He seemed to waver—Zach half rose, anticipating a swing at Alton—but then, without another word, Jordan abruptly turned and made his way through the mostly empty tables and firepits. Heart still thumping with that rush of adrenaline, Zach watched until Jordan disappeared inside the restaurant.

Zach subsided in his chair, staring at Alton. Alton gave a short, dry laugh, and finished his coffee. His cheeks were dotted pink, and there was the slightest tremor in his hand. That wasn’t fear, though. Alton didn’t like scenes in public.

“No going back now.”

Probably not. But really, from the point you hired a PI to investigate the people close to you, was there any going back?

Zach said, “Well, no. But that was the idea, right?”

Alton thought it over, said, “I suspect the news of our affair will reach Zora before too much longer. Rusty Jordan’s an old friend of mine. Well, more Zora’s friend than mine, as you saw. But at one time we even considered going into business together.”

“I recognize him from his file.”

“Of course.” For the first time since Rusty Jordan had accosted them, Alton met Zach’s gaze directly. “I hope you won’t find it all too upsetting.”

“Find what too upsetting?” Zach couldn’t help a flicker of disquiet.

“The inevitable fallout. Rusty has never been what one would call closemouthed. I’m sure he’ll tell Zora. And Zora…”

“Great.” What didfalloutmean exactly? Angry phone calls from Mrs. Beacher? Zach’s photo in theEnsenada Signal’s gossip column? A PI trailinghimaround?

At Zach’s tone, Alton’s pale brows rose. “After all, for the plan to succeed, our relationship has to be common knowledge.”

“Yep.” Zach did know that, of course, but he kept hoping Alton’s circle of common knowledge would not overlap his own. Not least because no one who knew Zach would believe for one minute he was romantically involved with Alton Beacher.

Well, maybe Ben. But that was more about Ben than Zach.

Alton patted his lips with the linen napkin. “We should probably be on our way. I think we’ll take the coast route home. The view is spectacular. How does that sound?”

As with Friday evening’s chauffeured drive, Alton spent most of the trip on his phone, haranguing the minions back at the Beacher Toy Company. Given that it was Sunday afternoon, Zach wouldn’t have expected a lot of doing business to take place, but maybe working weekends was how someone got to be a multimillionaire.

While Alton worked the phone, Zach took in the yes, spectacular views of dramatic coastal cliffs, white and rocky beaches, old-growth cypress and oak forests and, sure, plenty of golf courses, while he tried to sort through his impressions of the weekend.

Uppermost was his troubled conviction that his employer did not seem like a man in fear of his life. The unexpected encounter with Rusty Jordan had solidified his feelings. At times Alton appeared worried, nervous, agitated, but he didn’t seem—at least to Zach—like someone afraid of physical harm. He hadn’t seemed so in their first meeting, and he’d seemed even less so over the course of the weekend.

Equally troubling was the behavior of Alton’s chauffeur and so-called bodyguard. Chico Martinez was young, wiry, and fit, and he did wear a shoulder holster (along with what seemed to be full body tats) beneath his immaculate uniform. But where the hell had he been when Alton had been approached by Rusty Jordan that morning? Chico had not behaved like any bodyguard Zach had ever seen. He had not inspected their hotel room when Alton and Zach checked into the inn. He had not been present—or seemingly even within shouting distance—at any of their meals. Yes, he had been there for Alton’s golf games, but Zach couldn’t help feeling that was more about Chico’s usefulness as a caddy than Alton’s need for a bodyguard.

Nor had Chico seemed open to discussing Alton’s safety with Zach on the two occasions Zach had tried to broach the subject. He hadn’t pretended not to know what Zach was talking about, but he’d brushed Zach’s concerns aside and assured him that everything was under control.

Another thing—and kind of a big thing, in Zach’s opinion—why had Alton largely discouraged Zach from discussing the case that weekend? It wasn’t concern with being overheard because they’d been alone most of the time. Time that had been spent watching television, drinking—Alton was a Scotch drinker, but he also liked brandy and a cigar after dinner—and wandering the inn’s garden and grounds.

They had not done a lot of talking, and the talking they had done did not have anything to do with threats on Alton’s life.

Maybe Alton really did just need a break from his problems, but the whole setup made Zach uncomfortable. Or at least, as uncomfortable as you could be when everything possible was being done to ensure your comfort.

The drive from Pebble Beach to Zach’s home in Salinas was fairly short—at least in physical miles. As they reached the well-worn suburbs, he had the sensation of leaving one world and reentering another. When the Bentley was about a mile from Pine Street, Alton put his phone away, leaned forward to reach into the front seat, and removed a flat, rectangular box. He handed the box, which was wrapped in silver foil paper and fastened shut with violet and silver ribbons, to Zach.

“What’s this?” It came out sounding a little more wary than Zach intended, but he wondered if Alton was terminating his contract. Had he secretly only been hired to pose as Alton’s boyfriend for the weekend?

Alton offered that odd, smirky smile that always made Zach uneasy. “Open it and see.”