“I saw Corey in Tony’s house when that bum was murdering his wife. I told the cops everything then. You can get the police reports.”
“I’ve read the reports, but I have a few questions I’d still like to ask you, if you have a few minutes.”
“Okay, but it’s been years. I don’t know how much I’ll remember.”
McIntire opened the door, and Ken followed her into a spacious living room decorated with a Persian rug and comfortable beige leather furniture. McIntire pointed Ken to a sofa and took the armchair on the other side of a glass-topped coffee table.
“This is some view,” Ken said as he looked out at the ocean through a floor-to-ceiling picture window.
McIntire smiled. “Don and I moved in five years ago. We love it.”
“Don is your husband?”
McIntire nodded.
“Is he an actor?”
McIntire threw her head back and laughed. “God, no. I left that part of my life behind years ago. When Corey’s career went in the toilet, mine followed him down the drain. I’d already gotten an accounting degree as a hedge against an unsuccessful movie career, and I met Don at the firm where I was working.”
“I saw you had parts in some of Rockwell’s films.”
“Corey was very good to me after I helped clear him.” She smiled. “I think he was grateful for my testimony, but he also wanted to get in my pants. When I made it clear that wasn’t going to happen, I thought he’d forget about getting me a part inHard to Kill II,but he kept his word, and he got me other parts too.”
“Had you met Corey before the night his wife was murdered?”
“No, but Tony Clark was a neighbor, and I knew he did Corey’s stunts. I’d told him I was a big fan, and he introduced us the night Claire was killed.”
“Mrs. Winters was murdered around eleven that evening. You said you saw Mr. Rockwell in Clark’s home at eleven. How were you so sure about the time?”
“Tony invited me over for a drink around nine. We talked for about an hour. Then Tony said that he and Corey needed to discuss a scene they were shooting, so I left. But I could see them talking. Tony’s place was right across from my living room.”
“You saw them all during the time Mrs. Winters was killed?”
McIntire smiled. “I wasn’t spying on them, but I had a bit of a crush on Corey, so I looked across from time to time while I was watching TV.”
Ken had developed a theory, and he wanted to test it out.
“Could you see both men together every time you looked?”
McIntire started to answer. Then she stopped and thought.
“I’m not sure. I saw them both, but the window was small. I’m sure they were both there, though. Corey has black hair and Tony’s hair is red, and I saw them both when I looked.”
“Together?” Ken repeated.
McIntire hesitated. She stared at the waves invading the beach across the street for a few moments before answering.
“It’s been too long, so I can’t say. I thought I saw them together, but it’s been ten years.”
“I’d like to talk to Mr. Clark. Do you know where he lives?”
“Actually, I do. Don and I vacationed in Cabo San Lucas a year ago. Tony told me that he liked to vacation in Santa Maria de la Mar, a little town on the coast. On a couple of occasions, he said he’d like to retire there and open a bar. I checked it out, and he was there. He looked great. Don and I ate at the place. Great empanadas.”
“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.”
“My pleasure. Say, can you let me know what happens with the project?”
“Definitely. And I’ll drop a hint about a cameo if it gets green-lighted.”