a dispirited tone. He lifted the mug. “It’s so strange keeping regular hours. I don’t know what to do with myself.” He gestured toward the fence. I fixed your gate. It was dragging.” He mentioned a few other repairs he’d done. Barry could fix anything and one of my concerns when we broke up was that my house would fall apart. He drank some of the tea and commented on the interesting flavor before setting the mug down and turning to face me. “I just want to let you know I understand about the condo in Simi.” I was going to say something, but he continued. “I learned my lesson for next time. It was wrong to try to force that condo on you.”
An image came to mind as he was talking. A few months ago, Barry had this idea we should make a fresh start if we got married. Unilaterally he’d picked out a condo in Simi Valley he thought would be perfect for us. Thank heavens he hadn’t put a deposit on it because I wasn’t interested in moving so far away from my job and my friends. It had turned out to be the beginning of the end for us, anyway.
“You mean for you and Heather?”
“For me and whoever,” he said.
“Whatever,” I said, trying to dismiss it. I didn’t want to get into a discussion about his future romances or reopen talking about that condo. It was a little awkward, but I turned the subject to Kelly. “I remembered something that happened when I went over to Kelly’s that last time.” I told him about the doorbell and that I thought she’d said it was a real estate agent handing out something. “I was thinking that maybe it was somebody she didn’t want us to see, so that’s why she hustled us out of there so fast.”
“You said Adele was with you,” Barry said beginning to smile. “Maybe Kelly just wanted to get rid of you guys.”
“Maybe so,” I said. “But if there really was a real estate agent, they might have seen something.” I was thinking out loud. “The ones who have come by my house always leave a notepad of paper with their picture and information.” I thought about it for a moment. “I bet Kelly’s brother would help me look around their place.”
“The adorable surfer,” Barry said with distaste. His face slipped into cop mode and he seemed to be considering something. “Heather would probably dismiss your real estate agent tip because it came from you. . . .” His voice trailed off and he seemed to be battling with himself. “I need to get these cold cases taken care of and get back to my real job,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear this from me, but here’s something to think about. If a real estate agent stopped at the Donahue’s, they probably worked the whole area.”
I got his point. “Then they might have stopped at Dinah’s and the Donahue’s next-door neighbor.” I smiled at Barry. “Good thinking. Thanks for the help.”
“Don’t mention it,” Barry said. Then he rolled his eyes. “And I really mean don’t mention it. I don’t want it to get back to Heather that I helped you.” Barry yawned and mentioned his early morning. We got up to go inside. The tea and conversation had gotten rid of my wired feeling and sleep sounded good.
As I headed across the living room to my side of the house, Barry called after me. “By the way, I know all about Jeffrey,” he said. “I’m a detective, remember.”
Uh-oh.
* * *
I called Dinah first thing in the morning and asked her if she’d found a notepad or anything from a real estate agent left at her front door the day of the murder. While she was trying to remember, I told her why and who had suggested the line of thinking.
“Barry’s helping you now?” she laughed.
“I think it’s all about him missing his regular detective job, and he can’t resist getting involved.”
“And an excuse to spend time with you,” Dinah said. While we talked, Dinah checked various places in her house. “I don’t remember getting anything, but I could have just picked it up off the porch without thinking.” She said she would have tossed a brochure, but would have kept the pad of paper. “They come in handy for phone calls and writing down notes on crochet projects. I could have just stuck it somewhere.” I heard the clang of