Phantom Prey

Robinson said. “Anyway, she was there with a guy, and she might have said his name was Frank. I don’t know what their relationship was—they seemed kind of standoffy, but you know, funny-like. Like maybe they were unhappy about us seeing them together.”
    “Denise, you didn’t mention this when we talked.”
    “I didn’t even remember it until you asked me about Frank,” she said. “And I’m not sure the guy was named Frank—we didn’t eat with them; they were at a table for two, we just said hi, and we moved along.”
    “You remember what the guy looked like?” Lucas asked.
    “Pretty good-looking. Like a ballet dancer, or something. Thin, big hands.”
    “Hair color?” Lucas asked.
    “Black; with a ponytail. Two-day stubble. And he had a diamond earring.”
    “Of course he did,” Lucas said.
    “Yes; of course he did,” she said. “What’s this all about?”
    “We’re taking a look at him,” Lucas said. “Now, I’m very serious about this. And you tell McGuire, too. If you see this guy again, you get away from him. Especially if you see him on the street, and he comes over to you.”
    “You think?”
    “We can’t take the chance,” Lucas said. “So if you see him . . .”
    He could hear the shiver in her voice: “Get away.”
    Austin was wearing a black velour sweat suit and pink dance shoes. She held the door open, closed it behind him, and said, “So somewhere along the line, you ran into Frank. I’ve been thinking about it, who you could have talked to, and I’m worried that one of my employees tipped you off.”
    “Why should that worry you?” Lucas asked.
    “Because I wouldn’t take that kind of disloyalty,” she snapped. “If you heard it from one of my people, I’m going to have to root her out.”
    Lucas was shaking his head. “Relax. It’s not one of your employees. ”
    She nodded: “Then it was Martina, that bitch. I thought Hunter might have figured something out. We were at an event at the Walker, and who should come wandering by, but Frank. I told him to get away from me, but I saw Hunter notice, you know, looking at me and then at Frank, and I was afraid he’d figured it out. And he told her.”
    “ You should have told me,” Lucas said. “For Christ’s sakes, your daughter was murdered.”
    “The relationship was over for six months before Frances was killed,” she said, and she started to tear up. “There was no connection. Frank is not a bad guy.”
    “California wants him on a dope warrant,” Lucas said.
    “What?”
    “Not that big a deal, really—but he does have a warrant out,” Lucas said. “If he gets stopped on a traffic ticket, and they run him, that could pop up.”
    “Oh, shit,” she said. They had trailed into the living room, and she plopped on a couch. And she shouted, “Helen!”
    The housekeeper scurried out of the kitchen.
    “Squeeze a couple of oranges for me, will you? Maybe an orange smoothie. Lucas? You want a smoothie?”
    “That sounds fine,” Lucas said.
    When the housekeeper was gone, he said, “I gotta tell you about something, and the way you’re talking, I’m not sure you knew about it.”
    “About what?”
    “About Frank and Frances.”
    “What about Frank and Frances?” Her hand went to her throat, and she half-laughed, but with shock in her eyes, denying it, and said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “We think there was something going on there. The Dakota County cops came up with her purse—a guy found it and turned it in. There was a letter . . .” He took the folded print out of his pocket and handed it to her.
    She looked at it for a long time, more than a minute, then shook her head and said, “Well. Not much here.”
    “But it looks to me—”
    “Me, too. It’s her handwriting, no doubt about it,” Austin said.
    “Do you have any idea when the relationship might have started?”
    “It would have to be after he and I broke it off.”
    “Why? Why afterwards.”
    She looked at him, blankly, for a moment, then half-smiled: “Because he would not have had the energy to be sleeping with her, too. I, uh, needed a lot of attention.”
    “Okay. So when did you break off?”
    “April, the middle of April, right around tax time,” Austin said. “I had a lot to do, he started getting a little testy when I put him off . . . and finally I told him that we should end it. And I did. We did. Agreed to.”
    “Sounds like you did,” Lucas said.
    “Maybe,” she conceded.
    “And he