“She probably isn't, sir. I'm trying to get a feel for Lisa's person-ality- was there something about her that would have stopped Estrella from going with her? Was she hard to work for?”

“Doubt it,” said Ramsey. “It was probably the money. I paid her more than Lisa would've wanted to. Social Security, withholding, everything legal. Lisa had a small place; she wouldn't need someone that expensive.”

So Flores's nervousness that first day hadn't been immigration worries. And now she was gone…

Ramsey widened his legs a bit. “No, Lisa wasn't hard to work for. She was bright, full of energy, had a great sense of humor. Sometimes she could get a little… sharp with people, but no, I wouldn't call her hard to live with.”

“Sharp?”

“Sarcastic.”

Exactly what Kelly Sposito had said.

“Not in a mean way,” said Ramsey. “Just a bit of an… edge. Part of it was her sense of humor. She told a joke better than any woman I've ever-”

He stopped himself, pressed his legs close together. “Guess that sounds sexist, but I haven't really known that many women who enjoyed telling jokes. I don't mean your Phyllis Dillers or your Carol Burnetts. Women who aren't pros.”

“And Lisa liked telling jokes.”

“When she was in the mood… you have no idea who killed her?”

“Not yet, sir. We're open to ideas.”

“It just doesn't make sense, Lisa hooking up with some maniac and going to Griffith Park. For the most part, she went for older guys- conservative types, not the type to get… wild.”

“She went for older guys after your divorce?”

“I wouldn't know about that,” said Ramsey. “But I do know that before we started dating, she'd had two older boyfriends back in Cleveland. A dentist and a high school principal.”

“How much older?”

“Ancient. Older than me,” he said, smiling. “She made a crack about going out with me even though I was too young for her. At the time she was twenty-four and I was forty-seven.”

Making him fifty.

“What were the names of these other men?”

“I honestly can't recall- the principal was Pete something, I think the dentist was Hal. Or maybe Hank. She'd been dating Pete right before she met me, broke up with him the day of the pageant- that's where I met her, Miss Ohio Entertainment- I told you that, didn't I?”

Petra nodded.

“Going senile.” He tapped his head. “One good thing about Alzheimer's- you get to meet new people every day.”

Thinking of her father, wasting away, Petra forced a smile. Onset at sixty, one of the earliest the doctors had seen. One of the quickest progressions, too. Kenneth Connor, dust at sixty-three…

“Are you okay?” said Ramsey.

“Pardon?”

“For a second you looked upset- was it the Alzheimer's joke? That was one of Lisa's- if it was too sick for your taste, I'm-”

“No, not at all, Mr. Ramsey,” she said, appalled. What had he seen on her face? “So Lisa liked jokes.”

“Yes- do you have any idea when there might be a funeral?”

“That would depend on the coroner, Mr. Ramsey. And Lisa's family's wishes.”

“Are they coming out to L.A.?”

“I don't know, sir.”

“By the way, I ended up calling them myself, thought it should be me, not some… not a stranger. But all I got was a machine.”

“I got through to Dr. Boehlinger.”

He frowned. “Jack. He hates my guts, always did. Probably told you I was a terrible husband, you should be investigating me.”

Rope.

She waited.

“He's a tough guy, but not a bad sort,” said Ramsey. “Lisa marrying me really blew his mind.” He touched his mustache, tracing a vertical line through the center, stroking the left side, then the right, bisecting again.

“He didn't approve,” said Petra.

“He went crazy. Didn't come to the wedding- it was just a small civil thing at their country club- Jack's and Vivian's. Vivian came. And Lisa's brother, John- Jack junior, he works for Mobil Oil in Saudi Arabia, and he came. Not Jack senior, though. He called me a week before, tried to talk me out of it, said I was robbing Lisa's youth, she deserved better- babies, a family, the whole nine yards.”

“You didn't want children?”

“I wouldn't have minded, but Lisa didn't want them. I didn't tell him that, of course. But Lisa made that clear right from the outset. She was the least domesticated girl I've ever met, but Jack thought she should be some high-achieving housewife. He's a very domineering guy. Surgeon, used to giving orders. He was tough on Lisa when she was growing up.”

“Tough in what way?”

“Perfectionistic- high standards. Lisa had to get straight A's, go out for every extracurricular activity, excel in everything. She told me when she was twelve, Jack bought her a horse, so she had to learn jumping, dressage, compete whether or not she wanted to. Not the pageants, though. Those were Vivian's idea.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“On all sides. Lisa said it was hell. That's probably why she married me.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we were together, Lisa could do whatever she wanted. Sometimes…” He waved a hand.

“Sometimes what, sir?”

Ramsey sat straighter. “Sometimes I think I was too easygoing, and she thought I didn't care. I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but I can't say I see the point of all this… biography, Detective Connor. Lisa was murdered by some maniac, and we're sitting here talking about her childhood.”

A topic you brought up. “Sometimes it's hard to know what's relevant, sir.”

“Well,” he said, “I just don't see the point.”

Petra drew an oval on her pad and placed a horizontal line two-thirds of the way down. A few more pen strokes turned it into Ramsey's tailored mustache. She sketched in his blue eyes, tilted them downward a bit, made him look sad.

“Any other reason for Dr. Boehlinger to hate you other than your being too old for Lisa?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Jack and I never had any hassles, so I honestly don't know.”

“No problems at all?”

“None- why?”

“He mentioned something to me, Mr. Ramsey. The incident-”

“That,” said Ramsey sharply, and now she saw something different in his eyes. Wary. Hardened. “I figured we'd get around to it. Do you know why Lisa went public? In addition to hurting me?”

“Why, sir?”

“Money.”

“The show paid her?”

“Fifteen thousand. She called it adding insult to injury.”

“She must have been pretty mad at you.”

“Beyond mad- Lisa has Jack's temper.”

Present tense, again. On some level, she was still there with him.

“Tell me about the incident, Mr. Ramsey.”

“You don't watch TV?”

“I'd like to know what really happened.”

His lower jaw slung forward and he clicked his teeth. “What can I say? It was sleazy, tawdry, inexcusable, it still makes me sick. We'd been out to dinner, came home, had words- I don't even remember about what.”

Bet you do, thought Petra.

“It heated up, Lisa started shoving me, hitting me. With a closed hand. Not the first time. I put up with it because of the difference in our sizes. This time I didn't. There was no excuse. What can I say? I lost it.”

He looked at his fist, as if unable to believe it had ever caused damage.

Petra remembered the news clip. Lisa's black eye and split lip.

“It only happened once?”

“Once,” he said. “One single, solitary time, that's it.” He shook his head. “One stupid moment you lose control, and it's forever.”

As good a description as any of murder.

“I felt like crap, just like absolute filth, seeing her on the floor like that. I tried to help her up, but she screamed at me not to touch her. I tried to get her an ice pack- she wouldn't have anything to do with me. So I went out to the pond, and when I came back, her car was gone. She stayed away for four days. During that time she went to Inside Story. But she never told me about it, came back and acted as if everything was fine. Then, a few days later, we were eating dinner and she turned on the TV and smiled. And there we were in the hot tub, and she gives me this grin, says, ‘Insult to injury, Cart. Don't ever lay a fucking hand on me again.' ”