“After whatever it was, Copley and the guy he was playing against got into a shouting match that went into a pushy-shovey match. The other guy ended up in the water trap thing.”
“Extremely poor sportsmanship.”
“Wet guy threatens to kick Copley’s ass, sue off what’s left of it. He’s pulling himself out of the drink,” Eve continued. “People are starting to zip up in those cart things, and Copley backs down, lots of apologies. Buys the guy a high-class putter. And according to the caddy, bad-mouths the wet guy every chance he gets.”
“We have poor sport who has a poor temper to match, and is also a cowardly backbiter.”
“That’s what I see. So back to Ziegler and that golf game. Ziegler’s clearly winning by the sixth hole.” She paused to drink. “Who decided how many holes there had to be?”
“Again, I only play when I can’t avoid it. Ask someone else.”
“Maybe I will. Meanwhile, Ziegler’s ahead, Copley’s bitching. But then Copley ordered up drinks—prime brew. He stuck to water and power drinks while Ziegler got half cut and, being half cut, lost his focus and his form.”
“And Copley won the round?”
“Yeah, rubbed it in some, but took Ziegler to the nineteenth hole for more drinks. I get why they call the bar the nineteenth hole, but why are there eighteen to begin with?”
“It’s as good a number as any,” Roarke supposed. “Why four bases in baseball?”
“Because they make a diamond.”
“One might ask what a diamond has to do with baseball, but I won’t or we’ll be at this half the night. Let’s just finish off the golf.”
“Right. Copley had him back a couple times, but with the brother-in-law along, and that’s about it for the golf portion. Then Peabody came up with more weight, but of the gossip variety. Tales of cheating, divorce, cheating, elopements.”
“I may need more wine,” Roarke considered.
“Quick version. Copley cheated on first wife, cheated on almost-fiancée with current wife, and may have cheated on current wife before elopement with almost-fiancée.”
“He keeps busy.”
“Yeah, and for both of them it’s all about sex and money. Not for pleasure, but for ego and power. They had a lot in common only Ziegler was blackmailing and sleeping his way up, Copley married his way up.”
“Yet the side piece—this would be Felicity?” He tapped the photo on the board.
“Yeah, Shipshewana Felicity.”
“She’s lovely and very young. Shipshewana Felicity doesn’t have money or social status.”
“She provides the sex and the adoration, and makes Copley feel superior.”
“If there aren’t any feelings, genuine ones, involved, why not find that sex and adoration with money?”
“He wouldn’t be the first who lost it over big eyes and tits. Maybe this time out he wants to be the one with the big bucks, comparatively. But if his wife cuts him off, he can’t afford his current lifestyle. He can afford a good one, one a lot of people would be happy with, but not what he’s gotten used to. So Ziegler held that threat.”
Eve studied her wine. “I have to go up there, don’t I? I have to go back up there with the crazy people in the ballroom.”
“That’s up to you.”
“Which means I have to go up there and step between caterers and decorators. I’m not wrong for preferring murderers.”
“I’d never say so. But before you go face the worst, I have an early Christmas gift for you.”
“We’re almost there, why does it have to be early?”
“It’s for tonight, and as Trina will be here within the hour—”
“Why! Why did you have to say the name!” She gripped her hair in her fists, turned a fast circle. “I was mellowing.”
“You’ll muddle through it. In any case, she’ll need this.”
He held out a small, wrapped box. Eve eyed it suspiciously.
“Is it something she’s going to slather on me?”
“I wouldn’t think so. Open it, find out for yourself.”
She dealt with the fussy ribbon, tore at the shiny paper.
The classy box had the name of the jewelry embossed on the lid.
Ursa.
The generational family-run shop which had provided her with a solid lead on another killer. She remembered Ursa—the dignified older man who’d been so appalled he’d purchased antique watches stolen from dead parents by their ungrateful and murderous son.
“You pay attention.”
“To you? Always.”
“I don’t know what it is, but it means a lot you went there.”
“It’s a good place, as you said. Run by good people. They asked that I give you their best.”
She shook the box, heard the soft rattle. “This probably