Page 43 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

Luther looked at Oliver and then shrugged. “It would be tight but I suppose it could be done. It would take some advance planning, though.”

Irene confronted them, her notebook tightly clutched in one hand. Her eyes were brilliant with a feverish excitement. A whisper of dread ignited Oliver’s senses.If she keeps this up, she’s going to get herself killed.

But he could not think of any way to stop her.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Luther swallowed some of his martini and assumed a thoughtful air. “He’d need a car.”

Irene frowned. “He has one. I checked. He drove his own vehicle here to Burning Cove.”

“Tremayne left his car with the valet attendants,” Luther said. “He did not ask to have his vehicle brought around until after three in the morning.”

“He could have had another car waiting in a side street,” Irene said quickly.

“True,” Luther conceded. “But even if you are correct, you’reforgetting the lady, the one who came in from the garden with him looking as if she had been enjoying a romantic interlude.”

“I need to talk to her,” Irene said. “You must know her name and where I can find her.”

“Daisy Jennings,” Luther said. “And before you ask, she’s a regular. Likes to rub shoulders with the Hollywood crowd. She’s a stunner, and both men and women enjoy her company. I have no objection to her as a customer. But if you’re right about Tremayne’s activities last night, it means that he persuaded Daisy to help him with his story. If that’s the case, you can bet that she’ll tell you exactly what Tremayne and his studio want her to tell you.”

“You mean they’ll pay her to lie to me.”

“Or they’ll threaten her,” Oliver said evenly. “Or Tremayne will make it clear that she will no longer be allowed inside his circle of party friends if she doesn’t cooperate. One way or another, I doubt that you’ll get the truth from her.”

Luther looked thoughtful. “I would remind both of you that Tremayne’s story might be the truth. Maybe he really was out in the garden with Daisy Jennings during that forty-five-minute window of time. Regardless, Oliver’s right, Miss Glasson. You’ll only get the story that Tremayne and his studio want you to hear.”

Irene contemplated the view of the gardens. “There might be another way to find out if Tremayne left this place last night. If he parked another car on a side street, someone might have noticed it. After all, he would have had to park it again near the hotel before he went into the spa, then get back into it and return here. And that begs the question, whose car did he borrow? Daisy Jennings’s, perhaps?”

Luther looked at Oliver. “Does she ever give up?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Oliver said.

“That could be a problem,” Luther said. “For her future well-being.”

“You’re welcome to try to explain that to her,” Oliver said. “I tried. Didn’t get very far.”

Irene snapped her notebook closed. “If the two of you continue to talk about me as if I weren’t here, I’ll leave and find my own way back.”

“My apologies,” Luther said.

Blake loomed in the doorway. “Dinner is served.”

Luther smiled. “Your timing is excellent, Blake.”

“We need a good distraction,” Oliver said. “Dinner will work.”

He took Irene’s arm. On the way into the formal dining room, she took one last look at Pell’s seascapes.

“These are your paintings, Luther?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“They are... interesting.”

Luther chuckled. “In other words, you wouldn’t want them hanging in your home.”

“I can’t say for sure,” Irene said. “I don’t have a home. Just an apartment in L.A.”