K Is for Killer

get to know each other pretty well. We're in operation twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, so this is family to me. I have to say Lorna was a little bit standoffish. She wasn't rude or cold, but she was definitely reserved. Break time, she always seemed to have her nose in a book. Brought a sack lunch, sometimes sat out in her car to eat. She didn't volunteer a lot of information. She'd answer if you asked, but she wasn't forthcoming."
    "People have described her as secretive."
    He made a face at the term. "I wouldn't say that 'Secretive' has a sinister implication to my way of thinking. She was pleasant, but somewhat aloof. The term restrained might be apt."
    "How would you describe your relationship with her?"
    "My relationship?"
    "Yes, I'm wondering if you ever saw her outside of work."
    His laugh seemed embarrassed. "If you mean what I think, I have to say I'm flattered, but she was strictly an employee. She was a good-looking girl, but she was what... twenty-four years old?"
    "Twenty-five."
    "And I'm twice that. Believe me, Lorna had no interest in a man my age."
    "Why not? You're nice-looking, and you seem personable."
    "I appreciate your vote, but it doesn't mean much to a girl in her position. She was probably looking for marriage and a family, last thing in the world I have any interest in. In her eyes, I'd have been a slightly overweight old turd. Besides, the women I date, I like to have shared interests and intelligent conversation. Lorna was bright, but she never even heard of the Tet offensive, and the only Kennedys she knew about were Caroline and John-John."
    "Just a possibility," I remarked. "I broached the same subject with Serena, wondering if Lorna was in any way associated with your divorce."
    "Not at all. My marriage to Serena simply ran out of juice. Sometimes I think dissension would have been an improvement. Conflict has some spark to it. What we had was flat."
    "Serena says you wanted the divorce."
    "Well, that's true," he said, "but I've bent over backward to keep things friendly. It's like I said to my attorney: I feel guilty enough as it is, so let's not make matters worse. I love Serena. She's a hell of a nice gal, and I think the world of her. I'm just not ready to live without passion. I'd have to hope she represented the situation much in the same light."
    "Actually, she did," I said, "but I thought it was worth exploring in the context of Lorna's death."
    "I understand. Of course, I was sorry as hell when I found out what happened to her. She was honest, she was prompt, and as far as I know, she got along with everyone." I saw him ease a look at his watch under the pretext of adjusting the band.
    I stirred on my chair. "I better let you go," I said. "I can see you're distracted."
    "I guess I am, now that you mention it. I hope you don't think I'm rude."
    "Not at all. I appreciate your time. I have to be out of town in the next couple of days, but I may get back to you, if that's okay."
    "Of course. I'm sometimes hard to reach, but you can check with Melinda. We'll be closing down for maintenance and repairs on Saturday, so I'll be here if you need me then."
    "I'll keep that in mind. In the meantime, if you think of anything pertinent, could you give me a call?"
    "Certainly," he said.
    I left another business card. We shook hands across the desk, and then he walked me out. Two inspectors were waiting by Melinda's desk. The guy wore a dress shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. I noticed the woman inspector was dressed a lot better. Roger greeted them pleasantly, giving me a quick wave as he ushered them down the hall.
    I drove to my office. It was midafternoon and faint rays of winter sun were pushing through the overcast. The sky was white, the grass a vivid shade of lime green. February comes to Santa Teresa in a tumble of hot pink geraniums, magenta bougainvillea, and orange nasturtiums. I was accustomed to functioning in the dark by now, and the light seemed harsh, the colors too glaring. Night seemed softer, like a liquid that surrounded everything, cool and soothing. At night, all the foliage was blended by shadow, fused and simplified, where daylight divided, setting objects in sharp contrast, at war with one another.
    I let myself in the side entrance and then sat at my desk, shifting papers around, trying to behave as if I had some purpose. I was too tired to socialize and the lack of sleep was re-creating the sensation of being stoned. I felt as if I'd been smoking dope