“Not to my knowledge. Certainly not in Oregon or Washington while they were with my agency. Turner’s never done a showin Oregon. He had a show in Seattle, but Sheila and Maria didn’t work it.”
“What about Miss Porter?”
“If she worked with him, she never told me. You’ll have to ask her.”
“Do you know where I can reach her?”
“Yeah. She’s house-sitting Renee’s apartment until Renee comes back. I’ll give you the address.”
“Thanks.”
“She mentioned that she might go back to the Midwest as soon as the police tell her it’s okay.”
“What about Chesterfield? I know Rodriguez assisted him three years ago when he disappeared during a rehearsal of the Chamber of Death. Have Monroe or Porter ever worked with Chesterfield?”
“Sheila hasn’t while she’s been with my agency. And Porter never said she’d worked a show with him. If she had, I’d assume she would have mentioned something when she got this gig.”
“Did Rodriguez ever tell you that she disliked Chesterfield?”
Olmstead laughed. “Maria doesn’t like anyone, but now that you mention it, I do remember that she was upset when Chesterfield disappeared at the coast.”
“Was she worried about what might have happened to him?”
“No, she was angry.”
“Did she ever give you a reason?”
“No. But she must have gotten over whatever made her angry, because she took the job at the Imperial when I told her that Chesterfield wanted her, and she seemed glad to get the work.”
Jeff stood. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. This has been very helpful.”
“If you have any other questions, give me a call.”
Jeff went to a coffee shop to write an account of his conversationwith the talent agent. According to Miriam Ross, Maria Rodriguez had been jealous when Chesterfield chose Ross over her as a sex partner, and Rodriguez didn’t strike him as the type to forgive and forget. It occurred to Jeff that Rodriguez’s apparent change of heart might have been a cover for her real feelings if she was an accomplice of the person who murdered Robert Chesterfield.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Morris Quinlan leaned forward and studied the chessboard. If he moved his rook, he would expose his queen, but his nine-year-old grandson’s bishop was attacking the rook and he would lose the game if he lost the exchange.
After a few agonizing minutes, Quinlan shook his head. “I resign, Joey. You’re getting too good for me.”
Joey Quinlan grinned. “Don’t feel bad, Pop. You’ll do better next time.”
“Which will be at a time to be announced,” Joey’s mother said, “because it’s time to get you home to bed. You have school in the morning.”
Joey groused for a few minutes before giving his grandfather a hug. Quinlan smiled. His grandson was terrific, and he loved spending time with him. Quinlan’s marriage had been a casualty of his job. The divorce had been amicable, and his son hadn’t held it against him. He knew how much Morris loved his grandson, and the family visited Morris regularly.
Morris walked Joey and his daughter-in-law to the door, then watched them drive away. He was still thinking about his grandsonwhen something occurred to him. He turned the thought over, looked at all sides of it, and concluded that his imagination was way too wild. He laughed and chalked up the idea to the onset of dementia. Then he headed to the living room to watch a movie. He stopped halfway to the television. Maybe his idea wasn’t so crazy.
Morris went into his den where he’d put the police reports Roger Dillon had given him. He didn’t find what he was looking for. Then again, he wasn’t expecting to. It was too far-fetched to think that there was a connection between the murder of Robert Chesterfield, the attempt on Regina Barrister’s life, and this other case. But what if he was right? Then he might be right about another idea that had raced through his conscious mind before disappearing like a runaway train that had sped around a bend in the tracks.
Morris sat down on a comfortable armchair, the movie forgotten. He wondered if he should call Roger and tell him what he was thinking, but nixed the idea. There was no way he could get what he needed until the state offices opened in the morning, and he would need something concrete if he didn’t want to be laughed out of the room.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The two deputy DAs who shared an office with Peter Ragland were both in court when Carrie Anders and Roger Dillon walked in.
“We found something interesting,” Anders said.