She took a short, tight breath.

“But you didn’t kill Gloria Maitland,” she said.

“What makes you so sure I didn’t murder her?”

“You’re a magician. You would have done a better job of it.”

Chapter 12

Nick Tremayne’s smile was dazzling, a combination of masculine heat and smooth assurance. His eyes were as seductive in real life as they were on the screen. He wore an elegantly cut navy blazer and white linen trousers. His white shirt was accented with a beautifully knotted striped tie. He looked as if he had just stepped off his private yacht.

“Thank you for agreeing to let me give you my side of the story, Miss Glasson,” he said. “I appreciate your time.”

Humility, gratitude, and sincerity shimmered in the atmosphere around him. Irene had been prepared for his good looks and a whole lot of charm, but she was forced to admit that she was impressed in spite of herself. There was something almost unreal about the man. She felt as though she were doing a scene with him in front of a camera.

Oliver’s warning echoed in her head.He really is a very talented actor.

The Garden Room of the Burning Cove Hotel was a glass-walled conservatory fronted by a broad terrace overlooking the cove. Well-dressed guests drank their Darjeeling and nibbled dainty pastries amidan assortment of potted plants, hanging ferns, and colorful flowers. Sparkling fountains were scattered around the elegantly tiled room. Beyond the cove the Pacific glinted and flashed in the afternoon sun.

Irene and Nick were seated in a corner that was screened off from the rest of the tearoom by a half dozen artfully placed palms. The position allowed for private conversation but was also a public venue, just as she had requested.

“I know you have questions for me,” Nick said. “But before we begin, I’d like to make it clear that my relationship with Miss Maitland lasted for only a couple of weeks. It ended about a month ago. At least, it did on my side.”

“How, exactly, did it end?”

“I admit that things got complicated. Look, Gloria and I had some fun together at first. I met her at a Hollywood party. She was vivacious and very pretty. I made it clear that I was not interested in a serious, long-lasting relationship. At this point in my life I am focused exclusively on my art. I thought she understood that.”

“But she didn’t?”

Nick sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know what Gloria understood. It took me a while to figure out that the woman was not entirely stable.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll be blunt. I think she was unhinged. When we first met, she was a lot of fun. But it wasn’t long before she revealed a real talent for high drama. She would cry at the least provocation. She started accusing me of cheating on her. When I reminded her that I had never promised her anything beyond a good time, she threatened to harm herself.”

“Do you think she was serious?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Nick said. “But I made it clear that I was not about to let her manipulate me. I suggested quite strongly that she see a doctor. But that infuriated her. In the end I had to cut things off very forcefully. I told my studio about the situation and I was assured that it would be handled.”

“What did you think the studio would do?”

“I never gave it much thought. I was told that Gloria Maitland would no longer be a problem, and that was the end of it as far as I was concerned. The next thing I knew, she turned up here at the hotel. She threatened to make a scene. I told her to get lost. And now she’s dead.”

“After making an appointment to speak to me.”

“I can’t begin to guess her intentions, Miss Glasson. But I will repeat, the woman was unstable.”

“What do you think happened last night?”

“I think it was an accident, just as the police have concluded,” Nick said. “I suspect that Gloria planned some sort of petty revenge but before she could carry it out, she slipped on the tiles, hit her head, and fell into the pool. I’m sure she had been drinking all evening. She liked her Manhattans.”

“You think you were intended to be the target of her petty revenge?”

“Sure. In her bizarre fantasy world, she concluded that she was a woman scorned. You know what they say. Hell hath no fury.”

“What do you think she planned to tell me?”

“I have no idea,” Nick said. “Whatever it was, I’m sure it was guaranteed to make me look bad.”