Cat's Claw
said.
    Ramona shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
    I didn’t, either. It seemed to me that it would be easier.
    “Sure you do,” Ruby said. “It’s guilt. If you very badly wanted somebody to go away and he ended up killing himself, wouldn’t you wallow in guilt?”
    “Maybe,” Ramona said doubtfully. “Unless the somebody was my ex.Nothing that jerk could do would ever make
me
feel guilty.” She paused, tilting her head curiously. “Who’s Dana’s boyfriend?”
    “He’s not just her boyfriend.” Ruby studied her wine. “I don’t know if I should tell you, though. Dana didn’t swear me to secrecy, but—”
    “Of course you should tell us,” Ramona said indignantly. “We can keep a secret. Can’t we, China?”
    “Well, I guess,” Ruby said. “As long as you don’t go spreading it around. He’s her boss. The library director.”
    I blinked. “Glen Vance? Mr. Straight himself? You’re kidding!” I couldn’t believe that Dana Kirk had left Larry for Glen Vance, who (in my book) is a pompous and self-important guy who ends up being smarmy when he thinks he’s being nice. What in the world did she see in
him
?
    Ruby frowned in my direction. “The way Dana tells it, China, ‘Straight’ is not his real personality. Underneath that dignified appearance, Mr. Vance is a tiger.”
    “A tiger,” I said disbelievingly, and sat back again, shaking my head. So it was sex, huh? I would never have guessed.
    “How long has Dana been doing this… this tiger thing with her boss?” Ramona wanted to know. “Is he married?”
    “About six months,” Ruby said. “And no, he’s a widower. His wife died two years ago. When she and Larry separated, Dana moved in with a friend, who has an apartment in Mr. Vance’s complex.”
    “How convenient for both tigers,” I said dryly.
    Ruby opened both eyes wide. “What on earth are you suggesting, China? You can’t possibly imagine that Dana Kirk and Mr. Vance would—”
    My cell phone tinkled its digitized rendition of the opening bars of“Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.” I fished it out of my jeans pocket and flipped it open. It was Jessica Nelson.
    I waved to Ruby and Ramona. “Gotta take this one, guys.” Wineglass in one hand, phone in the other, I walked to the end of the porch so I wouldn’t interrupt the conversation. A ruby-throated hummingbird hung in the air beside a feeder, its wings a blur, the sunlight sparking its iridescent feathers. A honeysuckle vine wrapped itself around the pillar, its tendrils clinging fast to the wood, its sweet scent filling the air. “What’s up, Jessie?”
    There was no preamble. “China, do you have any idea what kind of connection there might be between Larry Kirk and George Timms?”
    “Kirk and… George Timms?” I was taken aback. If she had asked me about a connection between Larry Kirk and Glen Vance, I could’ve come up with something right off the top of my head. Her name would have been Dana. But Kirk and
Timms
? What was this about?
    I leaned against the porch pillar. The hummer, startled, flew a dozen feet away and hovered, watching me reproachfully. I moved to the other pillar and the hummer returned to his supper. “I know George Timms, of course,” I said warily, mindful that I was talking to a reporter. “Everybody does. But what in the world makes you think—”
    “I didn’t want to mention this when you were with your friends,” Jessica said, “but I got a phone tip this afternoon. George Timms is about to be arrested for breaking into Kirk’s computer shop. And now Kirk is dead.” She let that hang for a moment, then added, “I thought maybe you’d have some idea what the link is.”
    “Arrested?” I stood up straight, astonished. I hadn’t gotten any further than her second sentence. “George Timms?” Sheila had said they were expecting an arrest in the burglary case that afternoon, sothat much seemed to fit. But
George Timms
? Jessica must

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