Jonathan Kellerman - Therapy

Milo glanced at me. Both of us thinking the same thing: His wife hadn’t mentioned that.

“You have any theories about who killed Flora?”

“No.”

“None at all?”

Nichols licked his lips. “Why should I?”

“We’ve heard you do have a theory.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Flora’s sex drive. Or lack thereof.”

“Shit,” said Nichols. “You’ve been talking to Lisa. What do you expect her to say? We’re getting divorced, she hates my fucking guts. Didn’t she tell you I was home that night? Shit, she didn’t. See- she hates my guts.”

“What about your theory?”

“Yeah, yeah, I told her that, but I was talking out of my butt- like you talk to your wife, you know.”

Milo smiled.

“They need you to talk,” said Nichols. “Females.” He opened and shut his hand several times, miming chatter. “You come home after a hard day’s work and just wanna chill and they want to talk. Myah myah myah. So you tell them what they want to hear.”

“Lisa wanted to hear about Flora’s sex drive?”

“Lisa wanted to hear that she was hot, the hottest, hotter than anyone else I ever met in my life.” Nichols humphed. “That’s what that was all about.”

Milo stepped closer to Nichols. “You stroked Lisa by putting down Flora? Any particular reason you chose Flora as the bad example?”

Nichols edged back.

“Did Flora have sexual problems, Roy?”

“If you call not being able to do it problems,” said Nichols.

“She couldn’t have sex?”

“She couldn’t come . She had no feelings down there, used to lie there like a… a carpet. She didn’t like to do it. Wouldn’t come out and say so, but she had a way of letting you know.”

“What way was that?”

“You’d touch her, and she’d get this… upset look. Like she- like you hurt her.”

“Doesn’t sound like a fun relationship.”

Nichols didn’t answer.

Milo said, “Still, you went out with her for what- a year?”

“Less than that.” Nichols’s eyes widened. “I know what you’re getting at.”

“What’s that, Roy?”

“That I got mad at her because she wouldn’t put out, but it wasn’t like that. We didn’t fight, I never did anything but be cool with her. I took her out to movies, dinner, whatever. Spent money on her, man, and it wasn’t like I was getting anything back.”

“Uneven trade,” said Milo.

“This is making me sound bad.” Nichols’s meaty shoulders flexed. He smiled. “Big deal how I sound, I have a total four-plus alibi, so you can think what you want.”

“Did you break up with Flora because of her sexual problems, Roy?”

“That was part of it, wouldn’t it be for anyone normal? But it’s not like we were even really going together. We were neighbors, grew up together. Our parents hung out, we had barbecues together, whatever. Everyone kind of threw us together, know what I mean?”

“Parental matchmaking,” I said.

He looked at me with gratitude. “Yeah, exactly. ‘Flora’s such a nice girl.’ ‘Flora would make a great mom.’ And she dug me, she definitely did, so why not, she wasn’t half-bad-looking, coulda been hot if she knew how to dress. And how to screw. But we hung out more than we went out, you know? Even so, I spent money on her, lots of lobster dinners. When we broke up everything was cool.”

“She wasn’t upset?”

“Sure she was, but it wasn’t any big hysterical scene, know what I mean? She cried a little, I told her we’d be friends, and that was that.”

I said, “Did you remain friends?”

“There was no… animosity.”

“Did you continue to see each other?”

“No,” said Nichols, regarding me with wariness now. He cupped his clean head with one big hand, scratched loose a flake of sun-baked skin. “I’d see her at my folks’. There was no bad feelings.”

Milo said, “Those lobster dinners. Any particular place?”

Nichols stared at him. “I can eat lobster anywhere, but Flora liked this place in the Marina, out by the harbor.”

“Bobby J’s.”

“That’s the one. Flora liked to look at the boats. But then one time I offered to arrange a cruise around the Marina, and she said she got seasick. That was Flora. All talk.”

“Flora was scheduled to go to Bobby J’s for brunch the morning after she got murdered. She and her new boyfriend.”

“So?”

Milo shrugged.

Nichols said, “New boyfriend? What, I’m supposed to know that? Don’t make like I was the old boyfriend and she threw me over and I gave a shit because that is total bullshit .”

“Roy,” said Milo, “Flora’s problems aside, I assume you and she did sleep together?”

“Tried is more like it. Flora could make like her legs were glued together. And it was always like you were hurting her. You wanna know my opinion, that is how she ran into trouble.” Nichols’s chin jutted defiantly. “What if she led some guy on, then wouldn’t come through? Some dude not as understanding as me. For all I know, that boyfriend of hers snapped. He seemed like a wimp, but isn’t it always the quiet ones?”

“You met him?”

“One time. Flora brought him by my folks’ house. Thanksgiving, it was evening, after we finished stuffing our pie-holes. I was mellowing out on the couch, like when I eat that way don’t make me move, man. Lisa and my mom were washing up and my dad and me were both blissed out watching the tube and boing goes the doorbell. In comes Flora all dressed up, arm in arm with this pale-faced wimp-ass dude with this wimp-ass mustache, and he’s looking uncomfortable, like what the fuck am I doing here ? She claims she came by to visit my folks, but I know she’s there to show me she’s doing okay without me. That’s how women are.”

Nichols tapped his upper teeth on his lowers. “Like Mr. Teacher’s gonna impress me. You check him out?”

“You don’t think much of Van Dyne.”

“I got nothing against him, I was happy he had her, maybe he could deal with her.” Nichols smiled. “Or maybe he couldn’t. That’s your job to find out. Now can I go back and earn some bucks?”

“Where were you Monday night, say between 7 and 11 P.M.?”

“Monday? Why? What happened Monday?”

Milo stepped closer. He and Nichols were eye level, their noses inches apart. Nichols’s chin continued to jut, but his eyes flickered, and he flinched.

“Answer the question please, Roy.”

“Monday… I was at my parents’.” The admission made Nichols flush again. This time the color reached his brow. “I’m living there till I find a new place.”

“You’re sure you were there Monday night.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m up every day at four-thirty in the morning so I have time to work out and shower and eat a good breakfast and be on the job at six-thirty. I work my ass off all day, come home, lift some more, eat, watch TV, go to sleep by eight-thirty. That’s my swinging life, and I’m cool with it, okay? What I’m not cool with is you coming by and hassling me for no reason. I’ve got no obligation to talk to you, so now I’m going back to work.”

We watched him swagger away.

I said, “And our first nominee in the Mr. Charm contest…”

Milo said, “On the edge.”

“Teetering.”

“You see him as our bad guy?”

“If his alibis don’t check out, I’d definitely be interested.”

“Flora was killed between midnight and two. He claims a buddy drove him home just after twelve, and his wife woke him at two. That sounds awfully cute, and I didn’t see any mention of it in the file.”