8

JENNIFER LOOKED SMALL IN THE DARKNESS. In place of last night’s Armani dress, she was wearing faded jeans, an orange Southern California Magazine sweatshirt, and a matching baseball cap – the same outfit she had worn the day she set out with Coltrane to find Rudolph Valentino’s Falcoln Lair. The memory made him ache.

“Hi.”

“… Hi.”

“You’re sure it’s safe to come in?” Jennifer’s eyes looked red, as if she’d been crying.

“The coast is clear.”

She entered uneasily. The way she peered around made it seem that everything was strange to her, the house unfamiliar.

“Can I get you something?”

“Yeah, a little arsenic sounds good.”

Coltrane didn’t know what to say to that and used the motion of closing and locking the door to mask his awkwardness.

“I’ll settle for scotch.”

Coltrane couldn’t help remembering that scotch was what Tash had wanted the previous night. Reaching the kitchen seemed to take forever. But at least it was motion; at least it, too, masked his awkwardness, as did preparing her drink.

“You’re not going to have one with me?” Jennifer asked.

“No. I’ve got a lot of work to do in the darkroom, and I don’t want to get sleepy.”

“This is tough enough as it is. I’m not sure I can get through this if you make me drink alone.”

Coltrane’s heart went out to her. “Of course. Why not? Let’s have a drink together.” He got out another glass, poured the scotch, added ice, and put in some water, more motions for which he was grateful.

He raised his glass and clicked it against hers. “Cheers.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe ‘Here’s mud in your eye.’ But definitely not ‘Cheers.’” Jennifer took a long swallow, made a face, as if the drink was too strong, and looked at him. She was standing exactly where Tash had stood the previous night. “Talk.”

“I’m not sure how to begin.”

“As long as it’s the truth, however you tell it will be fine. I’ll make it easy for you. The way you looked at her last night – are you in love with her?”

Coltrane glanced at his hands.

Jennifer nodded in discouragement. “You fell in love with Rebecca Chance’s photographs. Then you fell in love with Rebecca Chance’s look-alike.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Of course. You’re a complicated man. Is she really Rebecca Chance’s granddaughter? Is that why she looks so uncannily like her?”

“That’s my suspicion,” Coltrane said. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

Jennifer took another long swallow and shuddered. “Well, as I told you on New Year’s Eve, I can’t compete with a woman who’s that beautiful. Not with a ghost. Really, you should have called me today. You should have put me out of my misery.”

“I never meant to… I had a good reason for not calling you.”

“Make me believe you weren’t planning to dump me without bothering to let me know.”

“I… Can I show you some photographs?”

“I don’t think I could bear to look at more pictures of her.”

“It’s not what you think,” Coltrane said. “These are different. Trust me. You’ll understand what I mean when you look at them.”

“Trust you,” Jennifer said hollowly.

9

COLTRANE ENTERED THE DARKROOM AHEAD OF JENNIFER. Before she could see the print of Tash in the diver’s suit, he used tongs to turn the print upside down in the washing tray. He hoped that she hadn’t noticed what he was doing, that her attention was directed toward where he pointed, toward prints that were attached by clamps to a nylon cord, drying.

He turned on the overhead lights.

“Crowd scenes?” Jennifer sounded puzzled.

“Those were taken at the Beverly Center.”

“But…” Jennifer turned to him, more confused. “Why would you take them? So many. The compositions are clumsy. Chaotic.”

“I wasn’t trying for an aesthetic arrangement. I just shot what I saw.”

“Is this some new direction you’re taking? I hope not. These can’t compare with the photographs you took after you met Packard, before all the trouble started.”

“It’s a different kind of project.”

“Different?” Jennifer looked back at the enlargements, walking along, paying closer attention. “Oh.” She had finally seen Tash among the chaos. “Even in a crowd, she stands out.” Jennifer sounded puzzled. “But she doesn’t seem aware she’s being photographed. It’s almost as if…” Frowning, she faced him again. “You were following her?”

“Actually, I’ve been ahead of her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s going to take awhile to explain.”

When he finished, Jennifer shook her head in dismay. “Ilkovic wasn’t enough for you? You have to get yourself involved in a similar situation?”

“It’s not the same. This time, I’m not the one being stalked.”

“Unless you count Nolan. The way you describe him, he’s been dealing with stalkers so long that he became one.”

“Nolan will calm down once Tash makes him understand there’s nothing between them.”

“But why did he think there was something between them in the first place?”

“I don’t know yet,” Coltrane said. “Tash told me she’s going to explain.”

Jennifer took one more look at the photographs, then another look at him. “I give up. I won’t waste any more of your time.”

“We’ve been through a lot together. I want to make sure everything’s right between us.”

“That isn’t going to happen, Mitch. Just because I want some closure on this, that doesn’t mean everything’s going to be right between us. And don’t you dare say ‘I hope we can still be friends.’”

Coltrane nodded.

“She owns more stores in San Francisco and San Diego?” Jennifer said. “And that doesn’t count the other investments she didn’t specify. She’s not only rich – she’s drop-dead gorgeous? You certainly got lucky.”

Coltrane shrugged, awkward.

“How did she get the money?”

“I don’t know. Her mother died a couple of years ago. Maybe it was an inheritance.”

“How did her mother get so much money?”

“I have no idea,” Coltrane said. “I didn’t feel it was any of my business.”

“Well, the two of you are certainly going to have a lot to talk about. I won’t say I hope it works out for you, because that’s not the way I feel.” Jennifer hesitated, mustering the strength to continue. “But I will say this – I hope you don’t get hurt.” She blinked, unsettled.

“Jennifer…”

“I’d better go home.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

They walked upstairs to the front door.

“Good-bye.”

“I’m sorry,” Coltrane said.

“Not as much as I am.” Jennifer wiped away another tear and stepped outside. It took her two tries to tell him, “As soon as the special edition of the magazine is ready, you’ll get the first copy. They really are great photographs, Mitch.” Her voice broke. “Regardless of everything that’s happened, I’m proud that I was in your life when you took them.”

Coltrane’s throat felt squeezed.

Lingering in the open doorway, he watched her walk to the curb and get into her car. As on the previous night, she didn’t look back when she drove away. Only after her headlights started to climb the hill away from his house did he move to step back into the house.

But he stopped himself, noticing her headlights pass a car parked near the murky crest.