“Maybe he does profit. Despite what Anger and the lawyer said, prenuptials can be challenged. With an estate this size, even if he ended up with one or two percent it would be significant. And insurance policies can be taken out without lawyers and accountants- or the insured- knowing. Also, he’s got another secret.” I told him what I’d learned at Malibu.

He pushed the chair back to the bookshelves, stretched without appearing to achieve comfort. “Old macho Don. Living in a big old walk-in closet.”

I said, “It could explain why he was so hostile when he first met you. He knew who you were from TV, was worried you might possibly know about him.”

“Why would I?”

“Common contacts in the gay community?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said. “Mr. Activist. Direct line to the gay community.”

“He’d have no way of knowing unless he himself was involved in the gay community. Given the fact that he serves food to San Labrador folk, I think that’s unlikely. Or maybe it wasn’t rational. Maybe it was just a gut response- your being there threatened him. Reminded him of his secret.”

“Threatened,” he said. “You know, it occurred to me, too- that he knew something about me. I thought he was just being a homophobe fascist, came this close to saying fuck you and walking. Then he just seemed to forget about it, so I did, too.”

“Once he could see you were focusing on Gina and not him, he figured his secret was safe.”

He gave a sour smile. “Didn’t take long to bust his secret.”

“Now that I think back, it was probably on his mind from the beginning. He was the first one to mention the beach house. Called over there himself. Twice. Figuring that would take care of it. He had no way of knowing I’d go out there. Even after I did, it was a fluke I found out. If Nyquist hadn’t overdone it with those two girls and if I hadn’t run into them later, I wouldn’t have suspected a thing.”

“What’s this Nyquist like, besides being an overacter?”

“Blond, good-looking, pumps iron, surfs. The girls said he has guys in and out all the time. Claims to be training them.”

“Golden hustler,” he said. “What a clichÉ.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” I said. “Back when I suspected Gina of fooling around with him.”

That raised his eyebrows. “When was this?”

“Right at the beginning, but I didn’t put it into focus till yesterday. The first time I was here, Gina and I were downstairs, looking for Melissa, after their blowup. Ramp and Nyquist came in from playing tennis. Then Ramp left to shower, and Nyquist hung around for no apparent reason. Kind of casually snotty. He asked Gina for something to drink and somehow made it sound lascivious. Nothing explicit- it was the way he said it. She must have heard it, too, because she put him in his place right away. He didn’t like it but he kept his mouth shut. The whole interchange took less than a minute- I forgot about it until I saw Nyquist play stud with the beach bunnies. Then the girls told me about him and Ramp and I realized it was just a front.”

“Maybe it wasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe Todd’s a creative fellow.”

“Playing both ends?”

He smiled. “It’s been known to happen.”

I’d been standing since we’d entered the room. Realized it and sat down in an armchair.

“Money and jealousy and passion,” I said. “A whole slew of classic motives for the price of one. Remember how Melissa said Gina told her she prized kindness and tolerance in a man? Maybe what she liked about Ramp was that he was tolerant of more than her phobia. Maybe she was referring to his acceptance of her fooling around with Nyquist and/or some other sexual explorations. But what if that tolerance wasn’t mutual? Infidelity’s one thing- crossing sexual preference lines is another. If Gina found out she was sharing Todd with Ramp, it could have blown her mind.”

“Even if she and Nyquist had nothing going, learning Ramp was gay or bisexual could have blown her mind,” said Milo.

“Whatever the specifics, she learned something that led her to decide she’d had enough. Time to make her escape, psychologically and physically. Take a giant step through an open door.”

“Big change for Ramp if she boots him out.”

I nodded. “No more mansion, no more beach house, no more tennis court- people do get accustomed to a certain standard. And if her reason for divorcing him ever got out, he’d lose a lot more than luxuries. He’d be finished in San Labrador.”

“Outing him,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Dragging him out of the closet whether he wanted it or not. It’s something angry people do, and hell hath no fury.”

“True,” I said, “but the only thing is, I haven’t picked up any exceptional hostility between Gina and Ramp. Neither has Melissa, and you can bet she’d be looking for it.”

“Yeah,” said Milo, “but both of them used to act, right? They’d be good at faking marital bliss. Isn’t that the San Labrador way? Heavy starch on the upper lip?”

“True. So where do we go with it?”

“Go?” he said. “If you’re asking, could I convince Chickering or the Sheriffs to investigate Ramp on the basis of his having a secret sex life, you know the answer to that. Should I do a little research on him and Golden Boy? What could it hurt?”

“Another day at the beach?” I said.

“Remind me to bring my boogie board.”

“Did you get over to see McCloskey again?”

“This afternoon. He was sleeping when I got there. The priest didn’t want me to bother him, but I snuck up the back way, went to his room. He didn’t even look surprised to see me- resigned, the way old cons get.”

“Learn anything?”

He shook his head. “Just the same old religious crap. I tried all my cop tricks. Nothing fazed him. I’m starting to think the guy’s a genuine head case.” He tapped his cranium. “Nada aqui.”

“But that doesn’t preclude his hiring someone to get her.”

He didn’t answer, looked preoccupied.

“What is it?”

“You got me going- on Ramp. It would be nice to know how much Gina actually knew about his sexuality. Think she discussed it with those therapists?”

“Quite possibly, but I don’t see them breaking confidentiality.”

“Are dead people entitled to confidentiality?”

“Ethically, they are. I’m not sure about the legal end of it. If foul play was suspected they could probably be forced to open their records eventually. But without that, I don’t see them being too forthcoming. Any publicity can only hurt them.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Patient in the lake doesn’t shout Nobel Prize for medicine.”

My mind drifted to black water and stayed there. A hundred plus feet of muck. “If she is at the bottom of the reservoir, what’s the chance of finding the body?”

“Not terrific. Like the diver said, visibility’s lousy, the area’s huge- you can’t drain it the way you could a lake. And a hundred and twenty-five’s getting close to maximum scuba depth before you need to get into deep-sea equipment. We’re talking major expense, major time commitment, with little chance of success. The Sheriff’s guys weren’t jumping to fill out the requisition forms.”

“Sheriff’s got sole jurisdiction?”

“Uh-huh. Chickering was happy to punt. The prevailing wisdom was to let nature take its course.”

“Meaning?”

“Wait for her to float.”

I thought of a gas-filled, suppurating lump rising to the surface of the dam. Wondered what comfort I’d be able to dredge up for Melissa if and when that happened.

Wondered what I’d tell her when she woke up…

“Despite the prevailing wisdom,” I said, “do you think there’s any chance she escaped from the car and made it back to shore?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “Abandoning your murder/mayhem scenario?”

“Exploring alternatives.”

“If that’s the case, why didn’t she just wait by the side of the road until someone came by? It’s not well-traveled, but eventually she would have been found.”