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Maybe you could poke around?"
    "I'm not a detective, Kitty. I
don't work for the police. I'm a venture capitalist."
    "I don't think the police are
going to solve this. And I'm worried."
    "What? You think you're the main
suspect? Did you kill Ted?"
    "No."
    "You sure? If you give me a
dollar, you can retain me as counsel and we'll have attorney-client
privilege," I said, joking.
    "Dutch, I didn't kill
Ted!"
    I could believe that. She was cold, manipulative,
and a heartbreaker, but a murderer? I found it hard to believe that
a woman could kill her husband.
    "I'll take you at your word for
now, but listen, Kitty, I can't help you."
    "Dutch, I'm not worried about me.
I'm worried about you."
    Worried about me. Well, that was a
first. She hadn't been too worried about me when she'd broken off
our engagement and I'd had to face our friends and family with the
news.
    "Why?"
    "The police scared me. They might
think that you did this!"
    "Kitty, that's absurd. I didn't
kill Ted."
    "I know that. But they seem to
think you might have had something to do with it. And I'm scared
that they are going to come after you."
    "Kitty, I appreciate your concern,
I really do, but let them come. I've got nothing to hide. I didn't
do anything. I'm not a murderer."
    "I know that, Dutch. Listen to me.
The way they were talking last night, I'm just scared, that's all.
I think you need to do something. Poke around, see if you can find
out who really killed Ted. I don't want you to wind up being
arrested for something that you didn't do because of our
past."
    "But—"
    "Just promise me that you'll think
about it. It might be the only way to prove your
innocence."
    I explained to Kitty a few more
times that I didn't kill Ted, that I had an alibi and that the
police were sniffing around the wrong hydrant and that she was
better off cooperating with the police, as I was going to do if
they came knocking. She begged and pleaded for me to help for "old
times' sake" and for my sake but finally gave in to my desire to
stay out of the mess. She got up from her seat, we all exchanged
some pleasantries, and off went Kitty Baxter, zipping into the
late-morning sun at the helm of her powder-blue Bentley
convertible.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Moments after the door slammed and
as we watched Kitty wind her way down my driveway back toward town,
Imogen turned to me and asked, "Your old fiancée, huh?
Interesting."
    I knew that one was going to come
back to bite me. But what was I to do? I knew that I should have
filled Imogen in on my past. After all, things were getting
serious. I had just never found the right time to tell her. It
wasn't exactly the kind of thing that popped up during dinner
conversation.
    "Does it matter? What did you
think of Kitty?"
    "Does it matter that your
ex-fiancée lives around the block, and her husband, who stole her
away from you, is dead? Yes, it does matter. I think it matters a
great deal, Max. And for the record, I think Kitty is a gold
digger, if you really care."
    She had a point.
    "Jealousy does not become you, my
dear."
    Sarcasm. That was about the only retort that I could
muster up. How else could I respond to something like that? Make a
joke and hope for the best. Slide it under the rug of laughs. Then
quickly change the subject.
    Imogen smirked.
    "What do you think?" I needed to
get her take on what had just transpired.
    There was a lot to think about.
Were the police coming for me? I wasn't scared. I knew that I was
innocent. I didn't kill Ted. But why would they think that I could
have? That was troubling. What did Kitty tell them,
exactly?
    "Well, for starters, I'm not sure
that I believe her," Imogen said.
    "Believe the story about me, Ted,
and Kitty? Unfortunately, that's true. As much as I hate to admit
it."
    "No. No. That's not what I mean.
I'm just not so sure that she didn't kill Ted."
    "You think that she murdered her
husband?"
    "I don't know if it was her, per
se, but I wouldn't put it past her. Anyone who is heartless