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Two days later, Lane and I are at an appointment with my psychiatrist friend, Dominic, at his office downtown. With my foot shaking back and forth, I sit in his green velvet wingback chair and tell him, “Don’t forget, I don’t want to be in the room when you start.”
“I know. I’m not starting just yet. We have a few things to go over first, as a group.” Dominic reads from his notebook and looks to Lane and me for assurance. “So we want to know about one night and one night only, the night Allegra Hudson was murdered. We want to know what she was wearing, what she had with her, and who she was talking to, even though the last part you likely won’t recall because you didn’t have that person in your line of sight. Is all of that correct?”
“Yes,” Lane and I say in unison.
“Madeleine, you may go now. When it’s time to come back in, I’ll text you, and you can sit right here and take notes. If you think of anything else you want me to ask him, don’t speak, just pass me a note.”
I nod and say, “Good luck,” before I scurry back to the lobby like I’ve escaped a grim fate. The last thing I want to do is listen to Lane be hypnotized—and accidentally be hypnotized myself. I can’t exactly be Johnny-on-the-spot with the note taking if I’m trying to remember the night Allegra was murdered as well, especially since I wasn’t there. The receptionist asks if she can get me water or coffee, so I gladly take a bottle of water and sip some as I glance at my phone. Nothing from Dominic yet. But Violet’s tried to call me once and Ivy as well. There’s no way I have enough time to return their calls right now. Plus, I don’t know what I would say to them when Dominic calls me into his office. “Sorry, I’ve got to go watch Allegra Hudson’s ex-boyfriend-slash-stalker get hypnotized so he can recall what he saw the night she died while he was spying on her.” I chuckle as I imagine myself saying it, especially to Ivy, whose brain would likely implode. I set my phone on my lap, take a deep breath, and try to be patient, but as soon as I do, it lights up. It’s time to go in.
After I quietly enter the room, Dominic continues.
“It’s the night Allegra Hudson is murdered, Lane, and you’re across the street, watching her house. What do you see? Try to give as many details as possible.”
Lane lies on the couch, seemingly in a trance, and answers softly, almost like a child. “Allegra is walking out her front door toward her car parked on the street, and it’s very dark out, but the streetlight shines on her face, so I can see her. She’s going somewhere, probably the airport, because she’s carrying a large purse, luggage, and some stacks of bound papers that she’s thumbing through. She’s wearing black leggings, a pink sweatshirt that says Gucci, and black-and-white tennis shoes. Her hair is down and curled. She looks beautiful.”
“Does she wear any jewelry?” Dominic inquires.
Lane replies, “Her wedding ring is all I can see as she goes through her papers.”
“Is there anyone else around, Lane?”
“No, but a bright-green Jeep Wrangler has driven by a few times, and it just went by again.”
My eyes open wide as I look at Dominic, waving my hand in a circle, indicating for him to press Lane for more about the Jeep. It has to be Marcus’s. There aren’t that many bright-green Jeeps in the world.
I wonder whether Marcus’s big story could have had anything to do with him driving by Allegra’s house so late at night. Since he knew I was covering her murder, surely he would have told me if our stories were connected.
“Have you ever seen who drives the green Jeep, Lane?” Dominic asks.
“A younger man. I saw him driving around here during the day once too.”
I nod at Dominic to move on, knowing this must be Marcus, even though his involvement makes zero sense. Allegra was already dead when Marcus told me about his big exposé, but I guess that doesn’t rule her out as an important figure who had an interesting job, as he put it. Perhaps he knew a secret of hers and was watching the house, trying to confirm something. It’s just like I thought from the beginning. If I solve Allegra’s murder, perhaps I’ll prove that Marcus was murdered as well.
“She flips through her papers a bit. They’re bound together, kind of like a book printed on computer paper. She looks startled and turns around like she heard a voice. Then she smiles and speaks to someone behind the hedges,” Lane continues, and I scoot to the edge of my seat.
“Does she seem friendly with this person?” Dominic prompts.
Lane confidently answers, “Yes, she does. I feel that she likes whoever it is, but they’re not supposed to be there.”
“Can you see them? Maybe a hand, an arm, or a shoe?”
“No, I can’t see anything. It looks like she’s talking to no one at all from here.”
“What happens next, Lane?”
“I hear something from the house behind me. They’re going to walk out and see me. I need to go!” Lane raises his voice as if alarmed and starts to shake.
Dominic nods my way, my cue to go, and I tiptoe to the lobby once more. I study my notes and try to find some Easter eggs within them. Allegra’s hair was down, so she could’ve had earrings on, which Lane wouldn’t have seen. She wore a sweatshirt, so she could have worn a watch, which Lane wouldn’t have seen either. She had bound papers, likely the manuscripts she was working on. Any of these items could’ve been taken, but it still doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t know why anyone would risk taking any of these things from her while she was awake. They could simply wait until she was asleep and rob her like a normal person. It has to be about more than just stealing something, but what?
I need to speak with Connor and see if maybe something is missing that he didn’t notice at first, perhaps a piece of jewelry. I need to look over the police report one more time to see what they found at the scene of the crime and find out if it matches what Connor told them. I also need to talk to Ivy and Mayven about her books. Maybe they’ll know what she was working on. Perhaps I can speak with her editor as well and learn what their meeting was supposed to be about and gain some insight into her beef with her agent.
Once I reenter the office a few minutes later, Lane is back to himself and seems refreshed.
“Was anything I said helpful?” he asks like a perky child who’s excited about Christmas.
I smile and hold up my notes. “Actually, Lane, I think it was very helpful.”
“Whoa, I’m long-winded, aren’t I?” He laughs as he cranes his neck toward the paper and squints through his glasses.
“That, and you had a great prompter.” I tilt my head toward Dominic. “Thanks, Dominic. Hopefully, we can use this to solve a murder and help a family.”
“I’m glad I could help you out.” Dominic pushes his glasses up his nose. “Anything else I can do for you two?” He rises from his seat as if to walk us out.
“No, I think that’s it. Right, Lane?” I pat him on the back, proud that he’s overcome his fear.
“Yeah, that’s it for now.” Lane laughs, glances at Dominic, and points at me. “If you’re ever going to pick my brain again, I definitely don’t want this one here taking notes.”
“Hey, careful now. I won’t let you read what you said if you aren’t nice to me.” I snap back playfully, thinking of how fond I am of Lane despite all he’s guilty of. He seems oddly innocent, like a victim of his own immaturity.
“You two have a great day. Let me know how things turn out.” Dominic smiles, waves, and shuts the door behind us.
After I share with Lane what he divulged while hypnotized, he immediately jumps on board with my theories about potentially stolen items and is equally confused about why someone decided to take them at that specific time. “Let’s just go through each item and make up some reasons why they might’ve been desirable,” Lane suggests as we walk through the parking lot, studying my notes.
“Okay, sounds logical. Let’s start with the books.” I feel drawn to them somehow.
Lane clears his throat. “Allegra’s a pretty big deal, and now that’s she’s gone, if those typed, personal copies are the only ones that remain, they’ll be worth a lot of money to someone. Right?”
I’m impressed, and my eyes widen as I halt. “You have quite the criminal mind. That’s a good point, but would someone kill her just to do that? I don’t know. I think there’s more to it. I’ll get in touch with her editor and see if she actually emailed her the books yet, saved them on her computer at home somewhere, or if the typed copies were all there was. This is a good start, though.”
“Glad I could help.” Lane shrugs as we continue to walk.
“Okay, moving on to possible earrings or a watch. We know it wasn’t just a random attempted break-in, based on what you saw. Unless she saw this person, had a conversation, then was coincidentally robbed by someone else, but I find that highly unlikely.”
Lane nods back at me. “I agree. So, why would anyone care enough to kill her over some jewelry or a watch?”
On my pad, I scribble some notes to ask Connor later. “I’ll talk to Connor and double-check with him about what items the police recovered. That should eliminate or confirm what we should be paying attention to. I just don’t see anyone killing Allegra over some jewelry unless it was either stolen from them originally or had some sentimental value.”
“At least you have some direction now. Even if they all come up as dead ends, at least we tried everything,” Lane says.
“Right.” I grin to appease Lane, but I know we’re onto something. We’re on the verge of something big.
“Thanks, by the way.” Lane continues past his car and toward mine with me.
“For what?” I ask.
Lane looks me in the eyes. “For trusting me. For taking this seriously. And most of all, for not taking me to the police.”
I click the button to unlock my car, and Lane reaches around and opens the door for me. “Some of the things I’ve done, some of the things I’ve told you... have been sketchy at best. I’m not delusional. I realize that. I almost judge you a tiny bit for not running for the hills, from me and this whole case.” He forces a smile.
I grin. So he is self-aware after all. “You do have a point there. I think I’m a pretty good judge of character, and you know what?”
Lane lifts his eyebrows. “What?”
“You’re not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but none of us are, and I know in my heart you mean well.” I touch his shoulder.
Lane’s eyes well up with tears. “When it comes to you and Connor, I’m going to let sleeping dogs lie. Looking back, I wish I’d done that for Allegra. I just let my crazy theories and pride get the best of me.”
I throw my purse and notebook into the passenger seat on top of Allegra’s scarf. “You’re a decent guy, Lane Stone. Someday, you’ll find someone so perfect for you and you alone, she’ll make Allegra and me look like sliced bologna.” I take a seat and start the engine.
Lane shuts the door, and I roll down the window and blast the heat in my car.
“I hope you’re right, Madeleine. I hope you’re right.”
***
“WHERE EXACTLY ARE WE going?” I ask Connor as we walk arm in arm downtown on the Friday after Lane’s hypnosis, bundled up like Eskimos.
“You’ll see.” He squeezes my hand three times. “You aren’t a big fan of surprises, are you?”
“Not so much. Nine out of ten times, they’re bad news.” Knowing what’s coming is important to me, and I don’t cope well with being caught off-guard. It feeds my anxiety.
Connor walks faster. “This, I assure you, is not bad news, my dear.”
We’re taking a stroll by the performance lawn, the fountains, the Sunsphere, the Tennessee Amphitheater, and the carefully manicured festival lawn of the World’s Fair Park, which are all almost deserted tonight. The one popular restaurant in the area closed ten years ago, and all of Knoxville anxiously awaits the resurgence of the area, which hosted the 1982 World’s Fair. Everyone wants to see it become one of Knoxville’s hot spots.
I don’t generally miss a meal, and my growling stomach is all I can think about as we walk. Getting low blood sugar turns me into a bear. “There will be food where we’re going, right?”
“Yes, I promise.” Connor chuckles and squeezes my hand again as we reach an elevator at the base of the Sunsphere.
“Are we touring the top? I’ve always wanted to do that.” I grin as I lean back to see the whole thing. It stretches into the sky just high enough to be a thrill without giving me vertigo.
“Something like that.” Connor pushes the button for the top floor.
“For something that’s essentially a giant gold-plated golf ball sitting on top of a tee, it sure is pretty. Right?”
The antique elevator slowly propels us upward about two hundred fifty feet.
“I always thought it was more of a big gold disco ball, kind of like a live version of that Dancing with the Stars mirror-ball trophy, but what you’re saying makes more sense.” Connor laughs.
A new sign on the elevator describes the top floor as a posh new restaurant called The Sphere.
“Stop the presses. This is a restaurant now?” My mouth gapes open, and I turn to Connor.
He smirks as if he has something up his sleeve. “It is.”
We walk out of the elevator and past the hostess table to a restaurant decorated in black, blue, and white—black textured walls, white marble floors, and sophisticated blue table décor and chandeliers. It’s regal and elegant but empty. “First ones here?” I ask as a man approaches us with two menus that have our names printed on them.
“Your menus.” He nods and doesn’t offer any more information, as if he’s a butler from the early 1900s. My forehead wrinkles, but he and Connor appear to believe this is all perfectly normal. Connor takes the menus, and we head toward the only table set for two, right by the window overlooking World’s Fair Park.
I gaze out as Connor takes a seat, and as my eyes drift to the sidewalk below, I notice a man looking up at me. And not just any man. It looks like... no, it is Lane Stone. I gasp and step back to see if Connor’s looking at him as well, but he’s already eyeing his menu. I glance below us again to see if Lane’s still out there, and he’s gone. I blink slowly and shake my head, wondering if I imagined the whole thing.
Connor drops his menu and looks at me. “If you’d rather see downtown or UT’s campus, we can sit—”
“No, this is perfect.” I take a seat at our exquisite table and smile. “Is this place going to give us food poisoning, or did you rent the entire restaurant?” I joke in an attempt to move on from what I just saw then look around for other diners, feeling like I’ve missed something.
Connor snorts. “No, it won’t, and yes, I did. I wanted to take you out on a proper date, but I also want to be sensitive to the boys. This way, no one will take pictures that might end up online for them to see later. And I had a hunch you’d love to go inside the Sunsphere.”
“How do you always have these ‘hunches’ about what I’d like?” I lean across the table to peck him on the lips, thankful he knows me so well but confused about how he does.
“Spot-on intuition, I suppose.” Connor winks as he grabs his menu.
I scan my own, and at the bottom is an asterisk noting the availability of the listed items “or anything else you’d like to have.” I guess when you rent the entire restaurant for the night, you’re privy to any meal you want. “What are you going to have?” I place my menu down, prop my elbows on the table, and place my fists underneath my chin.
“Mm, probably the salmon.” Connor squints as if he’s unsure. “How about you?”
“I was thinking of the salmon, too, but I really want some spinach dip as well. Is that weird?” I wonder if Connor thinks me unsophisticated.
“It’s not weird. Appetizers and entrees don’t have to complement each other. They’re separate beings entirely, but both are delicious.” Connor scans the sides.
My wheels are turning, like these insightful words of wisdom aren’t just about food, but I can’t piece it all together.
“Fancy or not, they both end up in the same place together in the end, right?” I laugh to lighten the mood.
Connor agrees. “A hundred percent.”
We both end up ordering the salmon, and while we wait on our meals, we walk around the Sunsphere, taking in the views. As we gaze out the windows, Connor holds my hand like we’re a real couple, and I kiss him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“The boys doing any better?” I ask hesitantly. If I don’t ask, I’m a jerk, and if I do, it may ruin the mood Connor’s trying so hard to create.
“A bit. I think it’ll just take some time. They’re strong, just like her. They can get through this.” Connor pulls me in for a hug. “Thanks for asking about them.”
Still hugging, I pull my head back to look Connor in the eyes. Lately, he seems to avoid talking about Allegra with me. I get that he’s trying to focus on me, but she was a huge part of his and his children’s life. And I am still running her investigation, so it concerns me that he’s holding back. “You know, you can talk about her to me... if you want to. It won’t hurt my feelings. I’m strong too. I can take it.”
Connor laughs under his breath and squeezes me even tighter. “I know you are.”
_________
The salmon is to die for, and I think we’ve managed to forget about everything but each other. Now that we’re indoors and I’ve ripped off a few layers of outerwear, the ruby necklace Connor gave me is on display as we sit at the table. I paired it with a short black square-necked cocktail dress. It’s very 1950s or 1960s, and Connor’s suit is black as well. We look like quite the couple. Our romantic dinner goes off without a hitch, and I can’t believe he went to so much trouble just for me.