“Jake is fixing dinner for me.”
There was a short pause on the other end.
“Jake is cooking dinner? You’re not at a restaurant?”
“Yes to the first question,” Clare said. “No to the second. We’re at his place.”
Silence hummed again for a few seconds.
“Are you all right?” Archer asked after a while.
“Yes. Elizabeth baby-sat me for a while until Jake showed up.”
“What’s the name of your motel? No one seems to know. Even Brenda was confused.”
“No point worrying about it now,” she said lightly. “I checked out an hour ago. Jake offered me his spare bedroom. I accepted.”
“What the frigging hell does he think he’s doing? If you need a place to stay, you can damn well come over here.”
She smiled in spite of her weary mood. “Bad idea, Archer. We both know that.”
“Put Jake on the phone.”
She held the phone out to Jake. “He wants to talk to you.”
Jake wiped his hands on a towel and took the device from her.
“Bad timing, Archer. I’m a little busy.”
There was a short pause.
“Sure,” Jake said. “The problem is, she doesn’t want to go to your place. She’s been pretty clear about that. You want to try to convince her?”
There was another listening moment.
“Yeah, I did notice the stubborn streak,” Jake said. “Seems to run in the family. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Archer. Meanwhile you know where to find Clare. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.”
He ended the call and tossed the phone back to Clare.
It rang again before Clare could ask what Archer had said. She glanced at the number and sighed.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Where are you, dear? Still in Stone Canyon?” Gwen Lancaster’s voice was tinged with a hint of hopefulness. “Everything going well?”
“Still here,” Clare said, tasting her wine. “Things have become complicated.”
She gave her mother a quick summary of events, leaving out the close call in the parking garage and the dumbbell incident. When she used the words “dead body” and “police” in the same sentence, however, there was a horrified wail from the other end of the line.
“Not again.”
Clare had to hold the phone several inches from her ear. Jake looked up from slicing a tomato. She knew he had heard Gwen’s pained cry of dismay.
“Now, Mom, you don’t have to make it sound like I trip over dead bodies all the time. There have only been two.”
“Two in six months. Do you know what the odds are of that kind of thing happening if you’re not a cop or in some sort of emergency work? And the two bodies we’re discussing happen to be related to each other. Do you realize what that does to the probability factor?”
“Take it easy, Mom, you’re going into full accounting mode here. You know I didn’t get your talent for numbers.”
“Do the police consider you a suspect?” Gwen asked sharply.
“No, I’m not a suspect.” Clare kept her voice calm and soothing.
“Where is Archer in all this? Has he hired a lawyer for you?”
“I don’t need a lawyer.” Clare hesitated. “Not yet at any rate. Everyone seems to think Valerie Shipley’s death will be ruled accidental. A bad mix of alcohol, tranquilizers and a convenient pool. Please don’t worry. As soon as things are cleared up, I’ll be on the first plane back to San Francisco.”
“But what about the reason you went to Arizona in the first place? Did Archer tell you why he wanted to see you?”
There was no point putting off the inevitable, Clare thought.
“He says he intends to establish a private grant-making foundation. He wants to make me the director.”
Gwen went very quiet on the other end of the line.
“I was right,” she said eventually. “He wants to atone in some way for the past.”
“I think he feels that he has a responsibility toward me,” Clare said. “It’s bothering him that I haven’t been able to find a new job. He’s trying to create one for me.”
“Sounds like it.” Gwen fell silent.
“Mom? Are you still there?”
“Yes,” Gwen said. “I’m still here. But I’m very worried. I don’t like this situation.”
“Neither do I,” Clare admitted. “But I think it will all go away in a couple of days after they do the autopsy and everyone concludes that Valerie Shipley’s death was not murder.”
“Are you still at the motel?”
“No, Mom, I’m not.”
“You’re with Elizabeth?” Gwen asked. “I thought she was staying with Archer and Myra until her condo closes. I know you don’t like to go to the Glazebrook house if you can avoid it.”
“I’m not there, either.” Clare cleared her throat. “I’m staying with someone who is consulting for Archer. His name is Jake Salter.”
“You’re staying with a complete stranger?”
“He’s not a stranger, Mom.”
“But you’ve only known him a couple of days,” Gwen said, sounding slightly stunned. “Is he married?”
“No,” Clare said, watching Jake, “he’s not married.”
“You’re there alone with him?”
“It’s complicated, Mom.”
“How did you meet him?”
“At the Glazebrook cocktail party. I guess you could say that Archer introduced us.”
“No,” Jake said, “I introduced myself.”
“I heard that,” Gwen said. “Is that him?”
“Yes,” Clare said. “He’s cooking dinner.”
“Do you think it’s wise to be staying at his house?”
“To be honest, at the moment I’m too tired to care.”
“Clare—”
“It’s been a very long day, Mom. I’m going to have a glass of wine, eat dinner and fall into bed.”
Jake was dousing the vegetables with olive oil. She saw his mouth curve faintly in a very male smile. It dawned on her that the last part of her sentence left a lot to the imagination.
“Alone,” she added hastily.
“Clare, I’m not sure about this,” Gwen said.
“I love you, Mom, but I’m going to hang up now. I’m beat. Bye.”