“He never left you that night?” asked Decker.
“To use the bathroom.”
“But he never left the house?”
She looked a little less certain and a little more defiant. “He ran to the liquor store to get some more gin.”
“How long was he gone?”
“Fifteen-twenty minutes, tops.”
“What time was this?”
“Around midnight.”
“Twenty minutes, you’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes! It’s the all-night place down on the right before you turn into my neighborhood. Ricardos.”
“He ever get physical with you? Abusive?”
“Never. If he did, it would be over in two seconds. I don’t tolerate that.”
“Some men don’t care if women don’t like it.”
“Dennis is not that kind of guy. He’s very nice and gentle.”
“A gentle man with a gun.”
“He has every right to protect himself.”
“Did he ever mention Julia Cummins to you?” he asked.
“A few times. And I met her once.”
Decker stiffened. “Really, when was that?”
“Dennis and I had been dating for maybe a month. We were at a restaurant, a little French bistro in Naples called Café Midi. She was there.”
“Alone?” said Decker.
“No, she had some kid with her.”
“Kid?”
“I call him a kid, but he was huge. Looked like an athlete.”
“Her son, Tyler.” Decker showed her a photo on his phone.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Was there anyone else with her?”
“Yes, an older woman. Rail thin with badly permed hair, and she reeked of alcohol.”
“Doris Kline?”
“I don’t know. She never said her name. But she looked three sheets to the wind.”