Rosa exited the Bel Air and carefully closed the door.
“Howdy, detective,” Clarence said.
Rosa didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Hi, Clarence.”
“Solved the case already?”
“No, but I do have a few questions.”
He patted the hood of his car with affection. “About the Fairlane?”
Rosa shook her head. It would surprise her cousin to know that, despite her pretty clothes, she was rather well acquainted with car engines. Her mother had insisted that she’d learned the basics, and as a police officer, the information had come in handy more than once.
She smoothed her skirt—navy blue with white polka dots—and pulled off her short white summer gloves. “Actually, I understand that you and the deceased were acquainted.”
“The deceased?”
“Yes. Miss Adams.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “She was fairly well known around town, and she worked with my mother, so sure. We were acquainted.”
Rosa stared at her cousin with disapproval. “I think you know what I’m getting at, Clarence. Is it true that you and Florence Adams were once romantically involved?”
Clarence folded his arms across his chest. “So, what if we were?”
“Did the affair happen while you were married to Vanessa?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You and Vanessa were both at the scene of the crime at high tide. Vanessa found the body.”
“What, wait—are you suggesting that Vanessa killed Flo?”
“It’s motive.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Did you end things with Florence?”
“I had to. She wanted to get married. I wasn’t about to jump from the frying pan to the fire.”
“I bet Florence didn’t like that.”
“She was hysterical. I told Mom to stop working with her. She was bad for business, bad for our family name.”
Obviously, Aunt Louisa hadn’t agreed, since Florence hadn’t been fired.
Rosa ducked her chin. “You know that looks bad for you, don’t you?”
Clarence seared her with a look. “Are you accusing me now?”
“I’m not,” Rosa was quick to say. The last thing she wanted was to get on Clarence’s wrong side. “But don’t be surprised if Detective Belmonte eventually asks to speak to you. I just thought I should warn you.”
Rosa found Gloria reading leisurely at the pool. The sun shone brightly, and a warm breeze caused the palms to flutter. A yellow finch daintily bathed itself in the cool waters of a cement fountain surrounded by a garden of red and yellow roses.
Gloria glanced up, and with her gold-framed, green-lens sunglasses and wide-brimmed hat, she looked every bit the TV star she aspired to be.
Upon seeing Rosa, she raised the LOOK magazine in her lap to show off the cover. The subtitles read Segregation in the North, and Music or Madness: The Rock & Roll Ruckus. Below those was a head and shoulders shot of Elizabeth Taylor, her rich, dark curls blowing softly in the breeze.
“Isn’t she the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?” Gloria asked.
“Gorgeous,” Rosa admitted. The violet eye beauty with her trademark dark brows was known around the globe.
Gloria patted her own light brunette waves. “Maybe I should go darker. Or I could go blond? Platinum like Marilyn Monroe?”
“Don’t be silly,” Rosa said. “Your hair is lovely.”
“Oh, I suppose it’s good enough for now.” Gloria pushed off her lounger and languidly moved to a chair at the patio table. “Come, join me. Señora Gomez has made me a delightful lunch, far too much for one person.”
Rosa sat across from Gloria, and her stomach growled at the sight of tuna and cucumber sandwiches. She was instantly reminded of home. Such finger food was very English, especially with tea. Of course, in England, the drink was hot. A pitcher of iced tea and a single half-filled glass sat on a table nearby.
Gloria waved at the pool boy, “Ricardo! Be a dear and get a glass for Miss Reed.”
“I can go myself, you know,” Rosa said, feeling a tad embarrassed.
“Phew,” Gloria said with a casual wave. “I need you to tell me all about your adventures. I’m bored silly. All my good friends are off on fantastic summer vacations.” Her well-manicured eyebrow arched playfully. “Did you see the handsome detective?”
Rosa felt herself blush. “It’s hot out already, isn’t it?” She fanned herself with her hand. The month of June in London was a lot cooler. “I’m not used to all of this sunshine.”
“Don’t change the subject, sweetheart.”
“Well, if you must know, I did. Aunt Louisa was quite insistent that I help with this case, and Detective Belmonte agreed.”
“Oh, lucky you!”
Ricardo returned with Rosa’s glass and poured for her. She sincerely thanked him, then immediately took a drink.
“Come on,” Gloria whined. “Won’t you tell me anything?”
Rosa patted her lips with a linen napkin. “Were Clarence and Vanessa very much in love?”
“Oh.” Gloria’s expression darkened. “That’s out of the blue.”
“I met Vanessa for the first time after she found the body, so naturally, I’m curious. I wasn’t here to witness the romance.”
“I suppose, but—” Gloria leaned in to whisper, even though no one, not even Ricardo, was about. “They had to get married.”
It was Rosa’s turn to release a soft “Oh.”
“Mom was furious, of course. Called Vanessa terrible names and accused her of chasing family money. There was no stopping—things—once they were started, and Mom finally decided that Clarence deserved whatever it was that was coming to him.”
Rosa twisted her lips to one side as she pondered this information. “I don’t know if you remember this,” she began, “but you told me that Clarence and Florence Adams were once involved.”
Gloria blushed. “Starting immediately, I’m swearing off tequila.”
“Did the affair happen during the marriage?”
“Yes, and afterwards too.”
“I imagine there was bad blood between the ladies.”
“You can say that again,” Gloria said. “It was a catfight whenever the two of them were in the same room.”
“And you don’t think it odd that Vanessa found Florence’s body?”
Gloria cupped her mouth with her hand. “I thought it was a horrible coincidence. You don’t think—”
“I’m just asking questions.”
“You know, I shouldn’t say this about my niece’s mother, but Vanessa has a terrible temper.”
Rosa selected another sandwich triangle. Had Vanessa Forrester been angry enough to kill?
11
