was killed?”
“No. He asked the questions,” Miki said. “And I didn’t know all the details. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible so you can tell him exactly what happened.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“Tomorrow morning, early. He has business meetings in New York today, and Larry King tonight. Black always honors commitments.”
Right. I said, “I’d like to speak with him as soon as he returns. What time do you expect him?”
“He’s coming in on the Lear, but he’ll probably spend the night in New York. He’s got a loft in TriBeca. His ex-wife lives in Manhattan, and he usually visits her.”
“And his ex-wife’s name?” I poised my pen over my notepad.
“Jude.”
“Jude what?” I asked.
“Not the Jude?” Bud perked up considerably. “You don’t mean the supermodel from Denmark?”
“Yes, she’s quite well known.”
“Yeah, I’ll say. She was on the cover of Sports Illustrated a few years back. I remember it well.”
Bud was downright giddy. After all, it was the swimsuit edition. He probably had it framed in his bathroom. “How long has Doctor Black been divorced?”
“Five or six years, I think.” Miki leaned back in her swivel chair, obviously uncomfortable with the turn of conversation. “To be perfectly honest, I’d prefer that you ask him any questions about his private life. It’s really none of my business and certainly not my place.”
“Of course.” I nodded, the understanding, fellow female detective. “If you’ll tell me approximately when he’ll be here, I can be waiting for him and get the interview over with.”
Miki liked the sound of that. “Doctor Black’s schedule is often disrupted, you understand. He’s a very important man, but the flight plan calls for him to leave JFK at 5 A.M . New York time. That should put him down here around six o’clock our time.”
“Early bird gets the worm, and all that,” Bud said. He grinned. The Affable Male Detective.
Miki let down her guard enough to smile. “Doctor Black doesn’t seem to require as much sleep as other people do. I can’t imagine how he gets by on so little.”
Curious as to why Black had so much trouble sleeping, I probed a bit. “He’s certainly well known for analyzing movie stars. Does he have other interests that take up his time?”
Miki immediately warmed to the subject of her employer’s shining accomplishments. “He just finished his latest book. His publishers predict another best-seller.” She beamed, proud as a little poodly peacock.
“Another best-seller?”
“Nick’s written four self-help books that have hit #1 on the New York Times best-seller list.”
I did remember reading something about him writing books, and Bud sat up straight and grinned. “Maybe he’ll put me and Claire in his next book.”
Bud was so charming now that he ought to invest in a king cobra and a flute. But his remark wormed another smile out of somber Miki. “He just might. He likes to observe the people around him. He is a psychiatrist, after all.”
“I’d like to meet him at the airport. Could you arrange that, Ms. Tudor?”
“He’ll land at the hotel’s private airstrip outside Camdenton and then come out here on the helicopter. Nick built a helipad out at the point.”
“Just like the prez heading home from Camp David, huh?” said Bud.
A third smile was not in the cards. Put the cobra back in the basket. Stomp on the flute. In fact, Miki ignored him and concentrated on me. “Our VIP guests hate paparazzi. That’s the main reason they choose Cedar Bend for their R & R. We provide private flights and complete confidentiality about their stay here.”
I replied, “That privacy isn’t going to last long when the press gets hold of this murder. It’s only a matter of time until they find out what happened to Ms. Border.”
“We’re quite aware of that, Detective Morgan.” All huffy and stiff-necked. “I’m getting ready to put together some kind of
“No. He asked the questions,” Miki said. “And I didn’t know all the details. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible so you can tell him exactly what happened.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“Tomorrow morning, early. He has business meetings in New York today, and Larry King tonight. Black always honors commitments.”
Right. I said, “I’d like to speak with him as soon as he returns. What time do you expect him?”
“He’s coming in on the Lear, but he’ll probably spend the night in New York. He’s got a loft in TriBeca. His ex-wife lives in Manhattan, and he usually visits her.”
“And his ex-wife’s name?” I poised my pen over my notepad.
“Jude.”
“Jude what?” I asked.
“Not the Jude?” Bud perked up considerably. “You don’t mean the supermodel from Denmark?”
“Yes, she’s quite well known.”
“Yeah, I’ll say. She was on the cover of Sports Illustrated a few years back. I remember it well.”
Bud was downright giddy. After all, it was the swimsuit edition. He probably had it framed in his bathroom. “How long has Doctor Black been divorced?”
“Five or six years, I think.” Miki leaned back in her swivel chair, obviously uncomfortable with the turn of conversation. “To be perfectly honest, I’d prefer that you ask him any questions about his private life. It’s really none of my business and certainly not my place.”
“Of course.” I nodded, the understanding, fellow female detective. “If you’ll tell me approximately when he’ll be here, I can be waiting for him and get the interview over with.”
Miki liked the sound of that. “Doctor Black’s schedule is often disrupted, you understand. He’s a very important man, but the flight plan calls for him to leave JFK at 5 A.M . New York time. That should put him down here around six o’clock our time.”
“Early bird gets the worm, and all that,” Bud said. He grinned. The Affable Male Detective.
Miki let down her guard enough to smile. “Doctor Black doesn’t seem to require as much sleep as other people do. I can’t imagine how he gets by on so little.”
Curious as to why Black had so much trouble sleeping, I probed a bit. “He’s certainly well known for analyzing movie stars. Does he have other interests that take up his time?”
Miki immediately warmed to the subject of her employer’s shining accomplishments. “He just finished his latest book. His publishers predict another best-seller.” She beamed, proud as a little poodly peacock.
“Another best-seller?”
“Nick’s written four self-help books that have hit #1 on the New York Times best-seller list.”
I did remember reading something about him writing books, and Bud sat up straight and grinned. “Maybe he’ll put me and Claire in his next book.”
Bud was so charming now that he ought to invest in a king cobra and a flute. But his remark wormed another smile out of somber Miki. “He just might. He likes to observe the people around him. He is a psychiatrist, after all.”
“I’d like to meet him at the airport. Could you arrange that, Ms. Tudor?”
“He’ll land at the hotel’s private airstrip outside Camdenton and then come out here on the helicopter. Nick built a helipad out at the point.”
“Just like the prez heading home from Camp David, huh?” said Bud.
A third smile was not in the cards. Put the cobra back in the basket. Stomp on the flute. In fact, Miki ignored him and concentrated on me. “Our VIP guests hate paparazzi. That’s the main reason they choose Cedar Bend for their R & R. We provide private flights and complete confidentiality about their stay here.”
I replied, “That privacy isn’t going to last long when the press gets hold of this murder. It’s only a matter of time until they find out what happened to Ms. Border.”
“We’re quite aware of that, Detective Morgan.” All huffy and stiff-necked. “I’m getting ready to put together some kind of
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