I'm tempted to file obstruction charges against you.'
'Give me a break. You know as well as I do that if I had volunteered any information, you would have climbed my frame for violating your turf.'
Fraymore frowned and seemed to consider. Finally, he said, 'I'll think about giving you that break. In the meantime, you'd better tell me everything you know.'
'Like what?'
'Like what the hell happened at that party-and I do mean everything.'
'We were still in the Members' Lounge waiting for Henry to get out when Tanya came in with that young actor who plays Romeo. She happened to sit down next to me. We started visiting.'
'Another coincidence, I suppose?' Fraymore ventured dryly.
'Hardly. She and my daughter are friends. Kelly takes care of Amber, Tanya's daughter. We were still chatting when the Lewises came in. When Tanya saw Daphne and Guy, she looked like she'd seen a ghost. She was so startled she spilled her drink.'
'Did she say anything to you about them?'
'No.'
'Did she talk to them?'
'No, not at all. As soon as she saw them, she took off. I thought she was going to the bar to refill her drink, but she left the party completely.'
'And didn't come back?'
'No.'
'Did she show up later at the Bowmer?'
'She might have, but I didn't see her there.'
'Let's go back to the Lewises. Did they speak to you?'
'Briefly. We exchanged a few words.'
'What about?'
'Mostly about cars, as I recall.'
'Cars? Did they say anything to you about Tanya?'
'Not really. Guy mentioned that he had seen her play Juliet and thought she was very good.'
'He didn't hint around that something might be going on between either himself and Tanya or Daphne and Tanya?'
'No, not at all. Why don't you ask Guy Lewis about it?' I asked. 'Maybe he knows.'
'Guy Lewis left town.'
'Oh,' I said. It didn't seem wise to mention to Gordon Fraymore that I already had spoken to the desk clerk at the Mark Anthony and had learned that very thing. If the detective discovered I'd been nosing around on Guy Lewis' tail, my already shaky situation would deteriorate immeasurably.
'So tell me how it is that you, a lowly Seattle homicide dick, happen to know people like Guy and Daphne Lewis in the first place.'
'From the Seattle Rep,' I said.
'What's that?'
'The Seattle Repertory Theatre. We're all donors,' I explained. 'We met through Alex-Alexis Downey, the Rep's director of development. She organized a benefit auction a few months back. My partners and I donated a car to the auction, and the Lewises bought it.'
'What kind of car was this?' Fraymore asked.
'I've seen that hot little number you're driving around down here. Or does that 928 belong to your girlfriend?'
'Why don't you run a check on it and find out?'
'Why don't you save us both time and effort and tell me?'
'The Porsche is mine. The Lewises bought a Bentley.'
'My, my. Porsches. Bentleys. For a city cop, you do run with a rich crowd.'
'Who I run with doesn't concern you,' I snapped. 'What does this have to do with who killed Daphne Lewis or Martin Shore?'
'Just trying to sort out the players, Beaumont. You know how it is. We've gone eight whole years without having a murder here in Ashland. Longer in the county. This is usually a pretty peaceful and quiet community. Then you appear on the scene. All of a sudden, we're the murder capital of southern Oregon, with two vicious homicides in as many days. You can see how a poor small-town cop might wonder about a high-living Seattle police detective who happens to turn up in the same general vicinity of both crime scenes.'
He ground out his cigarette. 'Tell me, Beaumont, if you were me, what would you make of someone like you? Seems like a hell of a coincidence that I keep tripping over you wherever I turn, especially since I have a funny feeling you're still not telling me everything you know.'
'But I have,' I said. Well, almost everything.
'Tell me about Guy Lewis.'
'What about him?'
'Did you know he was going to be in Ashland this weekend, or is it the same story you gave me about Martin Shore, another one of those odd flukes that you just happened to land here at the same time.'
'You got it.'
'The first you saw him was at the donors' party after the play?'
I didn't want to mention the N.A. meeting, because I knew that would send Fraymore off on another wild- goose chase. People who aren't in the program don't often understand people who are.
'No,' I said. 'We ran into each other during the Green Show before the play-another fluke.'
The corners of Gordon Fraymore's mouth twitched ever so slightly, warning me of trouble. 'Don't screw with me, Beaumont. I don't believe in flukes, especially not when I know damn good and well it's a lie.'
'How so?'
'I may be small potatoes in your book, but I'm nobody's dummy. While you've been out walking the streets the last few hours, I've been doing my job. I spent some time talking to one of our officers who was out directing traffic Saturday night. We were having trouble with the stoplight going up to the Festival. Remember?'
Now that he mentioned it, I did remember waiting to cross the street.
'Jack's a good cop,' Fraymore continued. 'Young, but very observant. He remembers you and Lewis walking across the street together. Jack says Guy Lewis was huffing and puffing and all out of breath. He say Lewis was packing a red down jacket.'
'All right. So we ran into each other on the street before the Green Show. What difference does that make?'
'A hell of a big difference,' Fraymore answered. 'You know it as well as I do.'
Actually, I did. As a homicide cop, I knew exactly how Gordon Fraymore's mind worked. For one thing, even under the best of conditions, cops hate coincidences with an abiding passion. Right that minute Gordon Fraymore's conditions sucked. He was under tremendous pressure. Here it was, opening weekend of the summer season in Ashland-the biggest weekend of the entire year-and Fraymore had his hands full, with not one but two separate homicides. Everyone in town, from the president of the board of directors of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival down to the lowliest busboy in the least expensive restaurant, had a vested interest in Gordon Fraymore's solving those two crimes. Unsolved multiple murders are real bad for tourism.
In order to fix the problem, Fraymore was doing what any right-thinking cop in the world would do-looking for someone connected to the murders whose story contained some small discrepancies. We both knew my story about meeting Guy Lewis at the Green Show was shot full of holes, which meant I was hiding something. Worse, in both murders, I happened to be the only common denominator. Well, not the only one. There were actually two. The other was Tanya Dunseth.
'So you've decided I'm your man?'
'Not entirely. I still haven't figured out what your connection is to all this,' he said, 'but you can rest assured I will. Since you're a fellow cop, I was more than half inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt. Right up until you lied to me. Now all bets are off.'
'Is that a threat?' I asked.
