O is for Outlaw Page 113
Laddie smiled, her composure restored. This was something she'd thought about; her version of the story was preassembled and prepackaged. "Duncan wasn't interested in me romantically, nor I in him."
"Too bad. He looked cute."
"He was cute. He was also extremely narcissistic, which I found obnoxious. There's nothing worse than a seventeen-year-old kid who thinks he's hot stuff."
"You don't think he was charismatic?"
"He thought he was," she said. "I thought he was conceited, nice, funny, but such a snob."
"What about your father?"
She looked at me askance. "My father? What's he have to do with this?"
"This is peripheral and probably none of my business, "
"None of this is your business," she said, bridling.
I smiled to show I hadn't taken offense. "I was told he was awarded a patent that earned him a lot of money. I gather, before that, he was considered a bit eccentric."
"If he was, so what? Make your point."
"I'm just thinking his fortune must have changed people's perception of you. Duncan's, in particular."
She was silent.
"Yes? No?"
"I suppose," she said.
"You went from being one down to one up where he was concerned. He sounds like the type who enjoyed a conquest, to prove he could do it, if nothing else."
"Are you trying to build a case for something?"
"I'm just trying to get a feel for what kind of guy he was."
"A dead one."
"Before that. You never had a fling with him?"
"Oh, please. Don't be silly. We never had an affair."
"Hey, an affair is six weeks or more. A fling can be anything from one night to half a dozen."
"I never had a fling with him, either."
"When did Mark leave for Vietnam? I know you married him in June. His orders came through ......
"July twenty-sixth," she said, biting off the words.
"The way I read the situation, Duncan was in Louisville after Mark shipped out. There you were, a young newlywed with a husband off at war. I'm sure you were lonely, needy. . . ."
"This is offensive. You're being extremely insulting, not only to me but to Mark."
"Insulting about what?" Mark said from the corridor. He shrugged out of his overcoat and tossed it over the back of a chair. He must have come in through the kitchen. His high forehead and receding hairline gave him an air of innocence, the same look babies have before they learn to bite and talk back. Laddie got up to greet him. I watched the two of them as he bussed her cheek.
He said, "Hang on a minute while I make a quick call." He crossed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1.
Laddie said, "What's going on?"
Mark raised a finger to indicate the dispatcher had picked up. "Hi, this is Mark Bethel. I'm at Four-fortyeight Savanna Lane. I've got a couple of guys parked in a car near the entrance to my gate. Could you have A patrol car cruise by? I really don't like the looks of them .... Thanks. I'd appreciate that." He replaced the handset and turned to Laddie and me with a shake of his head. "Probably harmless, a lovers' tryst, but just on the off chance they're casing the place. ." He rubbed his palms together. "I could use a glass of wine. "
I tried to picture Detectives Claas and Aldo busted by the local cops on a morals charge.
Laddie poured Chardonnay in a glass, holding it by the stem so as not to smudge the bowl. The trembling of her hand caused the wine to wobble in the glass.
Mark didn't seem to notice. He took the glass and sat down, giving me his full attention. "I hope I didn't interrupt. "
"We were talking about Benny Quintero," Laddie said. "She's just back from Louisville, where she did some research."
"Benny. Poor guy."
I said, "I didn't realize you were all from the same town."
"Well, that's not strictly true. I was born in Dayton. My family moved to Louisville when I was six. I lived there till I went off to U of K."
"And you knew Benny then?"
"I knew of him, just as he must have known about me from football games."
"I didn't realize you played football."
"More or less," he said ruefully. "I went to Atherton, which was all girls for years. School didn't go coed until 1954. Even then, we seldom won a game against Manual or Male. Mostly, the players knew each other by reputation. I remember there was a guy named Byck Snell at Eastern. ."