Part 7 (2/2)

Angel checked her watch and noticed she was five minutes late as she walked up to the blonde hostess behind a podium.

”I'm supposed to meet someone.” She looked into the bar, past the young woman's shoulder. ”Never mind. I see him. Thanks.”

Ethan sat in a corner of the bar. He stared straight ahead, rigid in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him, his white cane folded on the table next to a gla.s.s of red wine and a bottle. She took a deep breath and headed for his table. When she got close enough to say h.e.l.lo, he surprised her by standing before she spoke.

”I'm glad you could come.” He held out his hand.

”How did you know I was here?” She put her hand in his. ”I hadn't said anything.”

When he smiled, she had to catch her breath. She had no idea perfection could be improved upon.

”Your perfume. I remembered it from before.” He let go of her hand and offered her a seat. ”Please, join me. Can I get you something to drink? Or would you like to share the bottle of Merlot that I've started?”

”Actually, the Merlot sounds good.” Even though she'd asked for a gla.s.s of wine, Angel would sip it slow. She didn't need the distraction of an alcohol buzz. Being in Ethan's company would be diversion enough.

”When you called, it sounded as if you had something urgent to tell me, Mr. Chandler.”

He smiled. ”Direct and to the point. I like that, but please call me Ethan.”

After the waitress came with a gla.s.s and poured Angel's wine, Ethan ordered a small sampler of appetizers, and they had their privacy again.

”I wanted to talk to you privately. What I have to say will be hard enough to talk about.” He sighed. ”Your partner didn't appear to be a very tolerant man.”

Tolerant? Gabe was one of the most laid back guys she'd ever met, but his sarcastic wit and outspoken ways tended to leave people with the impression that he was judgmental and opinionated.

”I understand. Is this about your relations.h.i.+p with Olivia? Do you have any theories on why she was murdered? Or by whom?”

”I'm not sure about a theory. I certainly don't have anyone to add to your suspect list, but I thought you should know that Olivia had a darker side to her nature. She's not the type of woman anyone should take at face value. Perhaps the years of being a young girl growing up on those hunting trips with her father, she experienced life in a way most girls would not. Maybe that had something to do with the way she turned out.”

”And what way was that...exactly?”

”Olivia had...certain appet.i.tes in bed. I'd never met anyone like her. She took what she wanted and was very...aggressive.” He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable for the first time since she'd sat down. ”Being with Olivia was addictive, even when it wasn't in my best interest. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I thought it might be important for you to know.”

”When you say she was aggressive, what do you mean by that?” She lowered her voice and leaned toward him.

It was clear by the look on his face that Ethan felt uncomfortable talking about their personal s.e.x life, but Angel knew there was much more to Olivia's life than being the daughter of a prominent family.

”She liked...props. And she enjoyed playing dark s.e.xual fantasy games.” He cleared his throat. ”I don't really want to go into it here. Can we talk about something else?”

If they had been at the police station, she wouldn't have cut him slack, but he did have a point. And his cooperation would dry up if she pressed him for more. A change in subject was in order.

”We found a photo of you and Olivia at her place. She was wearing a black dress, and you were holding your violin. Do you remember the event?” Angel wanted to kick herself for describing Olivia's dress like he would recall it.

He shrugged and said, ”I'm not sure I can name the event. We've attended a few, between her charity functions and my performances. Sorry.”

”It just looked as if Olivia knew the person who'd taken the photo. We were interested in getting the name of the photographer.”

”That might be easier. It was probably Bryce Peterson. If it was an event where I played, Bryce would have been with us and he often brought his camera. He's an old friend from my Juilliard days.”

Angel recognized the name of the man with the angry voice who had left a message on Olivia's answering machine.

”Does he live in Chicago?”

”Yes, he does.” He gave her an address, and she wrote it down on a small pad of paper she carried in her purse. ”I'm helping him until he gets on his feet again. I own the place where he's living. It was rental property before Bryce moved in. He's had it rough over the last few years and needed my help. He's a violinist like me.”

Not like you, she wanted to correct him, but she let him finish.

”He's been in and out of rehab. The music G.o.ds have not been kind to him, but he's been sober for nearly a year now. I hope the worst is behind him.”

”Did Bryce get along with Olivia?”

Ethan hesitated and didn't answer her question right away. Eventually he asked one of his own.

”Why are you asking about Bryce?”

”We need to find people who knew Olivia, that's all,” she insisted. ”So did they get along, Bryce and Olivia?”

”They had their good days and bad, like most people. But after a while, they kept their differences from me. They knew it upset me to hear them argue.”

”What did they argue about?”

”Bryce wouldn't have hurt Olivia. He knew how much she meant to me.”

”And you consider Bryce a good friend, someone you trust, right?”

”Yes, implicitly. Now what's this about?” he demanded.

Angel heard the tension in his voice and saw it in his eyes. She had to remember that they were in a bar, not the police station. If she wanted his continued cooperation, she'd have to dial it back and play it smarter.

”During an investigation of this nature, we have to ask a lot of questions. Not all of them will be easy to hear and not all of them will apply to Olivia, but to find out who did this, we have to ask the tough questions.”

He sat back, considering what she had said. ”I understand. Please, go on.”

Angel had been sidestepping the question of Olivia being faithful, but now she had to take her own advice and ask the tough question.

”Have you ever suspected Olivia of cheating on you?”

Ethan took in a deep breath and slumped back in his seat with his eyes shut. He sat for a long while, not saying a word. Angel didn't press him. She knew he would answer when he was ready. Eventually, he did.

”Yes, I had my suspicions.”

Outside Chicago Cronan drove his Crown Vic down a dark stretch of road with the dim lights from his dashboard and the moonlight overhead coloring his world. His high beams caught the shadows of tall gra.s.ses whipping in the wake of his vehicle as he drove past undeveloped acreage. The lights off the interstate were only a memory.

In the distance, he saw what he looked for.

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