glass back on its coaster. “I talked about you with Beth after the funeral. In a sense, I guess you’re still working for Donna.”
“In a sense. I want to know the reason for what happened.”
“You’re the kind of guy who can’t let go. That’s what Beth said.”
Great, Carver thought. More of that obsessive talk.
“Donna confided in me several months ago that she and Mark were having problems,” Ellen said. “Then, about a month ago, she told me she was having an affair.”
“Did she say who she was involved with?”
“She said it was nobody I knew, and she just referred to him as ‘Enrico’ every now and then. I think she wanted me to know it wasn’t anyone at the club, any of the tennis pros. That kind of thing happens a lot around here, you know, but Donna wasn’t the type.”
“What type was she?”
Ellen ran a blunt, unpainted fingernail up and down her tall glass and thought for a few seconds before answering. “She was a nice woman. I know ‘nice’ is a word used too frequently, but in Donna’s case it applies. She was friendly toward everyone, but also a little shy. This is a fairly exclusive club—I’d even say snotty. Donna and Mark were members only because of Mark’s affiliation with people through his investment counseling. He seldom came here at all. Donna was aware she didn’t travel in the same circles as a lot of the members and didn’t seek out people. She didn’t mind not associating with some of the snobs around here. She was actually the homebody type and was content until her marriage started to go bad.” A serious light entered Ellen’s blue eyes and she leaned toward Carver earnestly. “I’ll tell you what type she wasn’t. She wasn’t the type to have an extramarital affair. I don’t know exactly what Mark Winship did, but the marriage must have been hopeless for Donna to get mixed up with another man.”
“Do you remember what she said about Enrico?”
“She said she was happy only when she was with him, and it was positively eerie how compatible they were, how they loved and hated the same things. You know the phase, when endorphins take the place of reason. She said it almost made her believe in fate or astrology. If it helps you any, I’m sure she was totally hooked on this guy. I wish I’d met him.”
“Be glad you didn’t.”
Her eyes widened over the rim of her glass. “Have you met him?”
“Briefly,” Carver said. “We didn’t get along.”
“Maybe you caught him at a bad time.”
“If I did, he reacted badly. He threatened me with a knife.”
Ellen shook her head. “Well, Donna wouldn’t be the first woman to gravitate toward the wrong man when her marriage was breaking up. Her husband was right for her at one time, when she was thinking straight, but under the strain, with things coming unglued, she might have been temporarily attracted to someone who was more or less his opposite.”
That sounded pretty good to Carver. He was becoming impressed by Ellen Pfitzer.
“But suicide,” Ellen said. She shook her head no as if she’d been asked to throw a tennis match. “That wasn’t like Donna, either.”
“Had she acted strange lately?”
“She was nervous and depressed, but I wouldn’t describe her as suicidal.”
“It was an impulsive thing,” Carver said.
Ellen scowled. “Probably thanks to Enrico.”
“Do you remember anything in particular Donna said about her husband?”
“She mentioned that he’d withdrawn from her, that he’d become cold. She said he acted as if the marriage was already ended and he was just marking time until the divorce. Exactly what you’d expect to hear about a marriage on the rocks, when one of the partners has given up completely.”
“Did he turn cool toward her for a reason?”
“None that she knew. She told me she asked him what was wrong. Begged him to tell her. All he’d say was that he was unhappy. He’d refuse to be specific. They hadn’t really talked about a
“In a sense. I want to know the reason for what happened.”
“You’re the kind of guy who can’t let go. That’s what Beth said.”
Great, Carver thought. More of that obsessive talk.
“Donna confided in me several months ago that she and Mark were having problems,” Ellen said. “Then, about a month ago, she told me she was having an affair.”
“Did she say who she was involved with?”
“She said it was nobody I knew, and she just referred to him as ‘Enrico’ every now and then. I think she wanted me to know it wasn’t anyone at the club, any of the tennis pros. That kind of thing happens a lot around here, you know, but Donna wasn’t the type.”
“What type was she?”
Ellen ran a blunt, unpainted fingernail up and down her tall glass and thought for a few seconds before answering. “She was a nice woman. I know ‘nice’ is a word used too frequently, but in Donna’s case it applies. She was friendly toward everyone, but also a little shy. This is a fairly exclusive club—I’d even say snotty. Donna and Mark were members only because of Mark’s affiliation with people through his investment counseling. He seldom came here at all. Donna was aware she didn’t travel in the same circles as a lot of the members and didn’t seek out people. She didn’t mind not associating with some of the snobs around here. She was actually the homebody type and was content until her marriage started to go bad.” A serious light entered Ellen’s blue eyes and she leaned toward Carver earnestly. “I’ll tell you what type she wasn’t. She wasn’t the type to have an extramarital affair. I don’t know exactly what Mark Winship did, but the marriage must have been hopeless for Donna to get mixed up with another man.”
“Do you remember what she said about Enrico?”
“She said she was happy only when she was with him, and it was positively eerie how compatible they were, how they loved and hated the same things. You know the phase, when endorphins take the place of reason. She said it almost made her believe in fate or astrology. If it helps you any, I’m sure she was totally hooked on this guy. I wish I’d met him.”
“Be glad you didn’t.”
Her eyes widened over the rim of her glass. “Have you met him?”
“Briefly,” Carver said. “We didn’t get along.”
“Maybe you caught him at a bad time.”
“If I did, he reacted badly. He threatened me with a knife.”
Ellen shook her head. “Well, Donna wouldn’t be the first woman to gravitate toward the wrong man when her marriage was breaking up. Her husband was right for her at one time, when she was thinking straight, but under the strain, with things coming unglued, she might have been temporarily attracted to someone who was more or less his opposite.”
That sounded pretty good to Carver. He was becoming impressed by Ellen Pfitzer.
“But suicide,” Ellen said. She shook her head no as if she’d been asked to throw a tennis match. “That wasn’t like Donna, either.”
“Had she acted strange lately?”
“She was nervous and depressed, but I wouldn’t describe her as suicidal.”
“It was an impulsive thing,” Carver said.
Ellen scowled. “Probably thanks to Enrico.”
“Do you remember anything in particular Donna said about her husband?”
“She mentioned that he’d withdrawn from her, that he’d become cold. She said he acted as if the marriage was already ended and he was just marking time until the divorce. Exactly what you’d expect to hear about a marriage on the rocks, when one of the partners has given up completely.”
“Did he turn cool toward her for a reason?”
“None that she knew. She told me she asked him what was wrong. Begged him to tell her. All he’d say was that he was unhappy. He’d refuse to be specific. They hadn’t really talked about a
Similar Books
