“You suspected he was out for Nora’s money.”
“I started to get concerned when Nora gave him a paid job at the PlayHouse. Creative consultant.” Dowd snorted. “You need to understand: Nora doesn’t charge a penny for her classes. That’s a crucial point, tax-wise, because the PlayHouse- the building, the upkeep, any supplies- is funded by a foundation we set up.”
“You and your sibs.”
“Basically, I did it for Nora, because acting’s her passion. We’re not talking some huge financial undertaking, there’s just enough endowment to keep the classes going. The building’s one of many we inherited from our parents and the rent we forego is a nice deduction against the profit from some other rentals in our portfolio. I’m the nominal head of the foundation so I approve expenditures. Which is why when Nora came to me wanting salary for Meserve, I knew it was time to talk. There was simply nothing in the budget to accommodate that. And it confirmed my suspicions that Meserve was out for something.”
“How much did she want to pay him?”
“Eight hundred a week.”
“Very creative consultant,” said Milo.
“No kidding,” said Dowd. “That’s my point. Nora has no concept of finances. Like a lot of artistic folk.”
“How long ago did she ask for the money?”
“After she offered him the job. A week or so before Meserve and the girl pulled that stunt. Maybe that’s why he did it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Trying to win Nora’s affections with a creative performance. If that was the idea, it backfired.”
“Nora wasn’t pleased.”
“I’d say not.”
“Was she upset at the hoax or something else?”
“Such as?”
“Meserve being with another woman.”
“Jealous? I seriously doubt it. By that time Nora was finished with him.”
“She gets over ‘things’ quickly.”
“Nothing to get over,” said Brad Dowd. “She saw my point, stopped paying attention to him, and he stopped hanging around.”
“What bothered Nora about the hoax?”
“The exposure.”
“Most actresses like publicity.”
Brad placed his beer on the porch deck. “Detective, the extent of Nora’s acting career was a single walk-on part on a sitcom thirty-five years ago when she was ten. She got the part because a friend of our mother’s was connected. After that, Nora went on audition after audition. When she decided to channel her efforts into teaching, it was a healthy move.”
“Adapting,” said Milo.
“That’s what it’s all about, Detective. My sister has talent but so do a hundred thousand other people.”
I said, “So she prefers to stay out of the public eye.”
“We’re a private bunch.” Dowd took a long swallow and finished his beer. “Is there anything else, guys?”
“Did Nora ever talk about Michaela Brand?”
“Not to me. No way she was jealous. Gorgeous young people stream in and out of Nora’s world. Now, I really think I should stop talking about her personal life.”
“Fair enough,” said Milo. “Let’s concentrate on Meserve.”
“Like I said, a gold digger,” said Dowd. “I meddled but sometimes meddling is called for. In the end my sister was grateful not to get involved with someone like that. Maybe you should be looking at him for the girl’s murder.”
“Why’s that, sir?”
“His view of women, he had a relationship with the victim, and you just said he’s missing. Doesn’t running away imply guilt?”
“What view of women are we talking about?” said Milo.
“You know the type. Easy smile, cruising on looks. He flirted with my sister shamelessly. I’ll be blunt: He kissed up and Nora bought it because Nora’s…”
“Impressionable.”
“Unfortunately. Any time I’d drop by the PlayHouse, he’d be there alone with Nora. Following her around, flattering her, sitting at her feet, shooting her adoring glances. Then he began giving her cheap little gifts- doodads, tacky tourist junk. A snow globe, do you believe that? Hollywood and
I said, “How’d you convince her Meserve’s intentions weren’t pure?”
“I was calm and persistent.” He stood. “I hope you catch whoever killed that girl, but please don’t involve my brother and sister in it. You couldn’t find two more harmless people on the face of the earth. In terms of Reynold Peaty, I’ve been asking tenants and the only complaints I’ve received are along the lines of not emptying garbage in a timely manner. He shows up diligently, minds his own business, has been a first-class worker. I’ll keep my eyes open, though.”
He cocked his head toward the open door. “Coffee or a soft drink for the road?”
“We’re good,” said Milo, getting up.
“Then I’m hitting the sack.
“Early to bed?”
“Busy day ahead.”
“Beats honest labor,” Milo said.
Brad Dowd laughed.
CHAPTER 17
Milo took Channel Road down toward the coastline. “There’s time till the class at the PlayHouse. How about we grab a couple of beers at a place I know.”
“Coronas?”
“Good brand.”
“As long as Brad Dowd’s not offering.”
“Never fraternize with the citizenry. What’d you think of our grown-up surfer dude?”
“You saw the knots, too.”
“And the board.”
“He’s the family guardian, takes well to the job.”
He reached PCH, stopped at the long red light that can keep you there for what seems to be hours. The ocean’s always changing. Tonight the water was flat and gray and infinite. Slow, easy tide, steady and metallic as a drum machine.
“Maybe I’m making too big a deal out of this, Alex, but Brad’s parting words seemed off: asking me to keep both Nora and Billy out of the investigation. We’d been focused on Nora, why bring in Billy?”
“Could be force of habit,” I said. “He lumps the two of them together because they both need protection.”
“Maybe that’s it.”
“Billy interests you?”
“Adult male with immature social skills who needs to be supervised covertly?” As we waited, he ran a DMV check on William Dowd III, hung up before the light changed. “Wanna guess how many vehicles are registered to Billy?”
“None.”
“And just like Peaty, never had a license.”
