Free The Little Death by P.J. Parrish Page B

nuts.”
    Reggie smiled. “I’m glad you like it. This one is from Iran. I first tasted it at a birthday party for—”
    “Excuse me,” Louis interrupted. “If you two are done comparing culinary experiences, can we talk about the problem at hand?”
    Reggie stared at him for a moment, tiny spoon in midair. “Yes, you’re right, of course,” he said. He carefully spread some caviar on a toast wedge. “Where do we start?”
    Louis leaned forward. “We start, Mr. Kent, with you. You’re not exactly leveling with us.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean that we aren’t going to take your case if you don’t start telling us the truth.”
    Louis felt Mel’s eyes on him but didn’t look at him. They hadn’t talked any more since yesterday in the cattle pen, and Louis had decided he needed to push Kent before he agreed to take this on.
    Reggie looked at Mel, as if he expected him to intervene on his behalf.
    “Louis is right, Reg,” Mel said. “I want to help you, but if you don’t tell us what we need to know, we’re out of here.”
    Reggie sighed. “Okay, ask me what you must.”
    “Let’s start with your relationship with Mark Durand and why you lied about that,” Louis said.
    Reggie shifted in his chair, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. “I didn’t really lie,” he said.
    “Were you lovers or not?” Mel asked.
    “We were,” Reggie said softly. “But it ended months ago.”
    “How and when did it start?” Louis asked.
    “I used to occasionally go to a club over in West Palm,” Reggie said. “I had been alone for quite some time, and when I saw Mark that night at Kashmir’s, I knew he was someone I could fall in love with.”
    Reggie stared out at the ocean, a sad wistfulness in his eyes. Louis let him have a few more seconds, then prodded him.
    “He felt the same?”
    “No,” Reggie said. “Like I told you, he was a lotyounger. And at the time he was seeing this rich lawyer from Fort Lauderdale. The man was married and used to drive up to West Palm looking for anonymous, one-night encounters. He was paying Mark money for seeing him on a regular basis.”
    “So Durand was a prostitute,” Louis said.
    Reggie cringed. “Well, he was arrested in Miami for that once,” he said. “But to me he was simply a beautiful young man in need of direction.”
    “How did you convince him to leave the other guy and hook up with you? You’re not rich, are you?”
    “Heavens no,” Reggie said. “In fact, I usually rent this place out during the season to make money.” When he saw the look on Louis’s face, he went on. “I rent it out, pocket twenty grand a month, and go live in someone’s guesthouse until Easter.”
    Louis glanced at Mel, who shrugged.
    “But when this whole thing hit the newspapers, my tenant backed out,” Reggie said. He looked around, shaking his head. “I mean, between the lawn man, the pool, the maid, the taxes, I have no idea how I’m going to get by if I don’t find someone—”
    “Mr. Kent, please,” Louis said. “You were talking about how you and Durand got together.”
    Reggie nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry. Well, Mark wanted to leave the lawyer, so I told him he could come stay with me. He was living in a ratty little efficiency by the turnpike, so you can imagine how excited he was when he saw Palm Beach.”
    “So what went wrong?” Mel asked.
    Reggie was silent for a long time. “The age thing, of course,” he said softly. “That, and Mark realized I wasn’treally rich. At least, not rich enough. But I didn’t want him to leave.” He gave a wry smile. “No fool like an old fool, they say.”
    He drew deeply on the cigarette and blew out a slow stream of smoke. “I knew I couldn’t afford to keep him happy, and I had no illusions about him being faithful. So we struck a deal.”
    “What kind of deal?” Louis asked when Reggie didn’t go on.
    “I need a refill,” Reggie said. He rose, picking up his tumbler. “Anyone