“That wouldn’t be hard,” she said wryly.

“You told me you needed to talk to me. I assume you have some questions?”

“I do, but not about the job.”

“Oh?”

“I wonder if you remember a girl named Tish Verdure,” Serena said.

Peter rocked back in his chair and pursed his lips. “Tish Verdure. I’m pretty sure there was a girl in my high school named Tish.”

“There was.”

“Well, what about her?”

“She’s back in town. She’s writing a book about the murder of Laura Starr.”

Peter’s face darkened. “I take it you’ve been hearing stories about my teenage years.”

“That’s right.”

“Stories that make you wonder if you want to work for a man like me.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Serena admitted.

Peter let his chair fall forward, and he leaned across the table. “Well, I appreciate your candor, and I’ll try to be candid, too. First of all, let’s get one thing clear. I’m not going to apologize for who I am or who I was. I was an asshole in school, and a lot of people will tell you I still am. That probably includes many of the women I’ve dated.”

“That’s pretty much what I heard.”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not surprised, but I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Look, Randall had more money than God back then, and I thought it gave me a free pass to rule the world. I was smart, but I didn’t do squat. I slept with every girl I could. I was an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“Are you trying to win points for honesty?”

“Not at all. I told you, no apologies. This is me.”

“You know that my partner is Jonathan Stride,” Serena said.

“Of course. I didn’t know Lieutenant Stride well back in school, and I don’t know him very well now. But the things I remember probably don’t give him a very high opinion of me.”

“You could say that.”

“Okay, but here’s where I draw the line. I did not kill Laura Starr.”

“Who did?”

“The police thought it was a vagrant.”

“Is that what you thought?”

“All I know is that it wasn’t me.”

“She was killed with your baseball bat.”

“That doesn’t prove a thing. The bat was lying in a field for anyone to pick up.”

Peter’s secretary knocked on the door and came in bearing a small silver coffee urn and two china cups. She poured out and left without saying a word. Serena tasted the coffee and recognized the dark flavor of Starbucks.

“So I take it that this writer, Tish, has her sights set on me,” Peter said. “She wants to nail me for the murder.”

“You’re certainly on her list.”

“You know, bad publicity doesn’t bother me. I get my share all the time. I just hate to see old gossip used against me.”

“I’m not sure you can pass it off as gossip,” Serena said. “Stride tells me that you were a suspect. Some people think that Ray Wallace deliberately steered the investigation away from you.”