Tango Key by T. J. MacGregor Page A

of the advantages of being a mistress rather than a wife. I don't know. His first marriage was to produce a son. Once Alan was born, he lost interest in his wife. His second marriage was to live out certain fantasies that—"
    "What kind of fantasies?"
    "Creating a cultured woman out of a soda jerk. And sexual fantasies, I think."
    "What kind of sexual fantasies?"
    The flush that spread through Lucy's cheeks seemed incongruous with her role as Cooper's mistress. She folded her hands together and stared at them. "There was something unnatural about his sexual relationship with Eve."
    "That had to do with sexual fantasies?"
    "Yes.''
    "Could you be more specific?"
    Lucy squirmed. The flush in her cheeks deepened. "Pain." It seemed to hurt her to say the word, and when she looked up, emotion flickered like light in her eyes. "His fantasies all dealt with pain. And so did his sexual relationship with Eve. Is that specific enough?"
    "He abused her?"
    "He abused everyone. It was just the form of the abuse that differed. What I'm, uh, saying, is that pain was part of the, uh, intimacy between them."
    "And between the two of you?"
    Indignant now: "Certainly not. Look, Detective Scott. I'd be glad to answer any questions you've got about Doug, but I've got an agency to run. Clients I've got to call back."
    "Just one more thing. Tell me about Doug's artifact collection."
    "I've never seen it."
    "Oh c'mon. You knew the man twelve years, right?"
    "Thirteen," she corrected.
    "And you never saw the collection?"
    "I saw some pieces, sure. Ceramic stuff that smelled like it'd been in someone's basement for a hundred years, some brass items."
    "Nothing in gold?"
    "No."
    "How much- would you say Doug Cooper was worth?"
    "A couple of million, I guess."
    Try six, Lucy dear,
    "Uh-huh. I see. Well. Thanks for your time, Ms. Meadows. And if you think of anything else, give me a call."
    "Eve killed him," she said softly.
    "It seems to me that a quarter of a million is reason enough to kill a man who strings you along for thirteen years, Ms. Meadows. Besides, as his mistress, your assumption about Eve's guilt is hardly unbiased."
    Lucy shrugged. "Maybe not. But I know I'm right about Eve, and I don't think she did it just for the money, Detective. I think she did it because she's still in love with Alan Cooper, Doug's son. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if they'd planned it together. They had an affair before she met Doug, did you know that?"
    Echoes of what Kincaid had told her. "I heard about it, yes. Is that why Doug and his son no longer spoke to each other?"
    "Yes. Doug also wrote him out of his will."
    So the gist of this theory, if it were true, was older than time, Aline thought. Wife and stepson kill husband and father for money and love. Not very original, but certainly plausible.
    When she left the travel agency, Aline drove over to the Tango Key Hospital to see if Bill Prentiss had the results of the autopsy yet. The hospital wasn't large—just a hundred beds—but what it lacked in size was compensated for by the courtesy and professionalism of the staff. If she were ever sick or needed surgery, this was the place where she wanted to be. Here. Not in Miami, not in Gainesville, not in Jacksonville, not in any of the teaching hospitals with their rosy reputations. Those hospitals were too large. You could never be absolutely certain that the stuff oozing into your arm was uncontaminated or that the nurse was giving you the right dose of medication or that your doctor's recommendation for surgery wasn't just because his cash flow was low that month. Those places lost patients; Tango Hospital did not.
    She found Prentiss at the computer terminal in his office. Without looking up, he said, "Hi, Al. I've been trying to call you. When Bernie said you weren't in, I sent you thought waves."
    She laughed and ruffled his curly black hair as she sat down. "I must've heard you. Here I am. What've you got on Cooper?"
    He smoothed a hand over