Wednesday, September 11
When Josie entered Lauren’s outer office the following morning, she was greeted with a sour expression from Eva, the protective assistant.
“Are you the private investigator?” Eva said, having reluctantly looked up from her computer screen.
Josie was dressed in her best jeans and blazer, her button-down shirt fresh from the cleaners, her hair under control from the right amount of product. She felt nervous but confident, and not inclined to be treated poorly, especially after her late night. Lucy reluctantly left at one in the morning, Josie insisting it wasn’t worth the confusion it would cause Josie’s hungover mother if Lucy was there in the morning. Josie didn’t fall asleep for hours after, nervous about her interview with Lauren, her thoughts racing with different analyses of what was going on with Lucy, puzzling over the origins of the universe, coveting the new model Dodge she’d love to buy and thinking about what a dick her father was. Now she was operating on two hours of sleep, but felt as fresh as if she’d had a full night’s rest.
“I’m Josie Harper. I have an eight o’clock appointment with Ms. Wade.”
“Yes, I know,” Eva said, crossing something out in a notebook. She pointed to the waiting room chairs. “Take a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
Josie saw Eva was going to take her bloody time letting Lauren know she’d arrived. She clicked over to a news page on the Internet, called the copy room, and printed out a schedule. She finally rose from her desk with the schedule and entered the inner office without knocking. A moment later she came back out and held the door open.
“She’ll see you now,” Eva said, disapprovingly.
Josie entered the inner office as Lauren came around her desk to greet her. She saw immediately the newspaper photographs she’d seen of Lauren didn’t do her the least amount of justice. She was slender like Josie, but so much sleeker and put together she made Josie uncomfortable about her own clothes. She was also gorgeous, with dark eyes and hair, a strong, straight nose, and noticeable cheekbones. She was as tall as Josie, five-eight or so. Lauren walked toward her with her arm extended and gave her a warm shake.
“Thank you for agreeing to come in so early, Ms. Harper. I’m afraid my schedule’s full for the rest of the day.”
“It’s Josie, please, and I’m glad to have gotten in at all. You have quite a gatekeeper out there.” Josie had her back to the door and assumed Eva had left. Lauren lifted her eyes to the door and smiled.
“We’ll have some coffee, Eva. Thank you.” Color bloomed on Josie’s face as Lauren turned back to her. “I hope Eva didn’t cause you any unnecessary difficulty,” she said, pointing to an area of her office with a sofa and side chair. The room was enormous, which shouldn’t have surprised Josie but somehow did. Lauren was the CEO of a publishing company—why wouldn’t her office be huge and her wardrobe impressive? The room held a very old and beautiful mahogany desk with its back to a view of the famous Chicago skyline—giant skyscrapers poking up between the grand buildings of an earlier era. The light from the windows poured across the room, highlighting portraits of three generations of Wades hanging on the opposite wall. Josie looked around for a coat of arms.
Lauren sat on the chair and gestured Josie to the sofa, which sucked her down low enough she had to look up at Lauren. What a hackneyed move. As if Lauren’s dominance in the office weren’t obvious already.
“I’m a bit confused about what you’ve been doing, Josie. I’m hoping we can clear up a few things.” Lauren’s tone was neutral.
“That’s why I’m here.”
Eva entered with a silver tray and coffee service, which she placed on the low table before them, and left the office. Lauren poured. She took hers black. Josie stirred in a hefty amount of cream and sugar.
“Perhaps we can start with why you’ve been so anxious to interview me,” Lauren said. “Of all the requests for interviews I’ve received in the past weeks, none have been from a private investigator. I’m intrigued, of course.”
Josie saw the genuine curiosity on Lauren’s face. She also saw the beautiful hand holding her coffee cup, the length of leg showing beneath her skirt. She sipped more coffee as she tried to track her thinking back to the business at hand.
“You’ve been dodging this interview, but there was really no need. My client has hired me to find Kelly’s real murderer. Their words, not mine.” Josie drank her coffee as she watched Lauren take this in. She looked slightly more annoyed than surprised.
“But that’s ridiculous. Why would anyone spend the money to do that? The acquittal speaks for itself. If my reputation’s been damaged, isn’t that something for me to worry about, not someone else? Who are these clients of yours?” Lauren’s voice was steadily escalating.
“I can’t tell you that. The fact I’ve been hired should tell you someone cares about your reputation. I don’t think any harm is intended.” Josie knew the results of her investigation could influence whether the board fired Lauren or not, but she wasn’t going to bring that up. She wanted to stay on her good side.
“Care about me? I find it unsettling someone has been hired to poke around in my life without my knowledge or permission in order to absolve me of something the law has already acquitted me of. Perhaps you could tell your clients I don’t feel particularly cared for by their gesture.”
Lauren leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, coffee forgotten. Josie sat quietly, pouring more coffee, waiting out the silence like any good detective would. Eventually Lauren spoke. “And you still haven’t explained what you want from me.”
Josie shrugged. “There’s a lot I want to know. You’d make my job a lot easier if you told me you murdered Kelly. The double jeopardy rule applies.”
“Yes, but that wouldn’t do much for the reputation your clients seem so concerned about.”
“Are you saying you didn’t kill Kelly?” Josie was reaching for the notebook in her jacket pocket.
“I’m saying I have no reason to say anything to you.”
Josie flipped through some pages, as if looking for a particularly damning fact. She was trying to make Lauren nervous, which seemed as likely as Spider-Man appearing outside the thirty-first-floor window. “The thing I haven’t been able to figure out is why you remained silent throughout the entire process of being arrested and tried for the murder. Normally a person would aid their defense by offering an alibi or testifying at trial on their own behalf. It’s not like you’re a loose cannon who could harm your own case should you take the stand. Why the silence?”
Lauren picked up her cup and took a long drink, as if the coffee would have the steadying qualities of a shot of whiskey. “That was the legal strategy my lawyer and I preferred. As the results showed, the evidence was all circumstantial and not convincing to the jury.”
“The police seemed most influenced by the fact your own gun was the murder weapon and left on the scene. You would have had plenty of time to get rid of it.”
Lauren smiled. “I suppose the jury thought no one could be that stupid.”
“Or that clever,” Josie said. She saw Lauren’s eyes turn to her, appraising her in a new light. “How about an alibi? It must not be a very good one.”
“No, it’s not,” Lauren said. “As I told the police, I was at work until six thirty and then went shopping along Armitage. I didn’t buy anything. I was floating down the street, shop to shop, not going in. Window-shopping. I grabbed a bite to eat. The police couldn’t find anyone who remembered me.”
Lauren leaned toward her. “I’m fortunate to have been acquitted.” Lauren paused for a moment, staring at Josie. “It could easily gone the other way, and that would’ve ruined my life. Compared to that, the idea people may think I actually killed my own lover seems small.”
“But you had a motive to kill. Didn’t you just find out Kelly had been unfaithful to you?”
Lauren seemed relaxed and leaned back against the chair. “It was a full week before her death that I found out. And it was not the first time we’d been down that road. Kelly had been unfaithful at least once before that I knew about. I don’t think it was in her nature to be monogamous. I was spending that week trying to decide if I wanted to end our relationship or not.”
“Most people would, don’t you think? Fool me once, shame on you, and all that,” Josie said. Her brain was running along a double track—the conversation itself and the compelling attraction she was feeling.
“I’m afraid when it comes to my relationship history, I’ve been quite foolish. My work keeps me so busy I don’t give my partners the attention they deserve. I consider Kelly’s infidelity to be my fault as much as hers,” Lauren said. “But I will admit that it hurt.”
“Did it make you angry?” Josie asked.
“Of course. I’m human. Betrayal hurts and the hurt translates into anger.” Lauren seemed unconcerned at how that sounded.
“You must have had a very good lawyer. From where I’m sitting, you had the means, motive, and opportunity to kill Kelly.”
“Well, it certainly sounds like you’re convinced I killed her,” Lauren said, still calm.
“You haven’t said anything to point me elsewhere. I think leaving the smoking gun at the scene was a ploy.”
Lauren shrugged. “As you suggest, I had a very good lawyer.”
Josie leaned forward, her senses heightened by how close Lauren was. She didn’t want her to be a murderer.
“It almost seems you want me to believe you did it. Why would that be?” Josie asked.
For the first time, Lauren looked conflicted. She paused before saying, “I’ve already said too much. I can’t help how you interpret it.”
Josie tried again. “Can you think of anyone else who would have a motive to kill Kelly?”
“I can only think of the obvious people with motives similar to mine.”
“Such as?” Josie asked.
“I don’t want to point fingers at anyone,” Lauren said, as she proceeded to do exactly that. “But I could see Gabby, Ann-Marie’s partner, being angry enough to kill. She seems to have an aggressive personality. I don’t think she’d kill Ann-Marie and might even have convinced herself Ann-Marie was innocent, that Kelly had lured her into whatever bed it was they were using. And Ann-Marie herself might have a motive because Kelly broke it off so suddenly. At least, that’s what Kelly told me—she considered the few times she slept with Ann-Marie as a mere distraction. It didn’t rise to the level of an affair. She said she told Ann-Marie they wouldn’t be seeing each other again since I found out about it. I can only assume they would have if I hadn’t.”
Josie scribbled furiously in her notebook, though there wasn’t any new information here. Another arrow pointing at Gabby was interesting, but she’d already concluded the rest of it. What she noted was the monotone of Lauren’s speech, as if she were being forced to speculate against her better judgment.
They sat there and looked at each other, the contact lasting a second or two longer than it should between strangers. The hair on Josie’s arms stood up and she was glad she’d taken the Klonopin earlier to settle her nerves. Maybe it would keep her from being a fool and kissing Lauren right then. She was tempted, based on the interest she saw in Lauren’s eyes. That would make a giant mess of things, but it was exactly what she wanted to do. Damn, this felt good, and she didn’t doubt Lauren felt the same. This sort of pull had to be mutual—Lauren was the magnet and Josie the metal shavings. She knew with a few moves she could have her; it had rarely failed her before. Instead, she rose from the sofa and put her notebook away. It wasn’t a good sign to feel this good. She took it as a warning.
“I won’t take up any more of your time,” Josie said. “Though I hope you’ll see me again if I have more questions.” Josie looked to the right of Lauren’s eyes, trying to stay out of trouble.
“Of course, though it seems you’re on a pointless mission. Whoever killed Kelly left no evidence at the scene, certainly nothing that points anywhere but at me. The gun had my fingerprints on it.”
“I imagine, since it’s your own gun. It seems surprising to me you even have one,” Josie said.
Lauren shrugged. “My dad gave me and my brother identical Smith and Wesson revolvers one Christmas. He said it was the best thing to have if anyone ever broke in. Simply point and shoot. I can’t remember the last time I touched it—probably during the lessons we took to learn how to use it.”
Now Josie looked back at her eyes. “So you’re saying you didn’t commit the murder.”
Lauren smiled. “I realized I didn’t want you to leave thinking I had.”
Josie saw she’d been right; Lauren’s body language spoke of interest and her eyes confirmed attraction. Shit.
“And you believe the killer was female?” Josie asked.
“It seems likely, with all of the players being female. And lesbian.”
The word “lesbian” seemed to drop on both of them like a cloak, sealing them closer together, the distance now much shorter between curiosity and action. Josie could feel her heart thumping, assumed Lauren could hear it as well. She said a quick good-bye and left, sweeping past Eva without a word. Once down the elevator and out on the building’s plaza she concentrated on breathing normally again. She felt revved up, ready to burst. She took another Klonopin. She admitted it was a sign of some mania pushing through that she now wanted Lauren, thought she was every bit the mysterious, dangerous, intelligent, beautiful foil she desired. Her memory of Lucy seemed wispy at best.
She saw streams of people headed toward the entrance to start their workday. A group of them wore messenger bags with “Wade-Fellowes” printed on the side. She stepped in front of them to talk and saw their startled expressions.
“Excuse me for interrupting you,” Josie said, making things up on the fly. “I’ve been interviewing a number of Wade-Fellowes employees recently and would like to ask you a few questions.”
“What kind of questions?” said one of the men. He appeared to be a leader of this small group, since they were all looking up to him to do the speaking. He was as tall as a giant.
“I’ve been hired to gauge the employee attitude to Lauren Wade. She’s aware of this. It was a board of directors decision to see how much fallout there’s been from Ms. Wade’s recent legal troubles.” She paused for a moment as they stared at her. “Will you help out?”
“I’m David Schofeld,” the tall one said, “the vice president of operations of the company. I work closely with Lauren. It doesn’t really matter whether your story is true or complete bullshit because I have no hesitancy in saying Lauren is a fantastic leader, brilliant executive, and the survivor of more crap than anyone should have to go through. If the board’s thinking of suggesting she step down, I think they’ll have trouble with the rest of the employees.”
“That’s true,” said another, a sharply dressed woman who carried a shiny leather briefcase. “I doubt I’d stick around if Lauren were gone. And I never thought for a moment she was guilty of killing her partner. Someone set her up.”
“Why would anyone set her up?” Josie asked. She’d gotten her notebook out. “Especially if she’s as good a person as you say.”
“The set-up may have come from outside Wade-Fellowes,” said another woman, who looked at Josie as if she were a bit thick. “She did have a private life, you know, and I, for one, don’t know a thing about it.”
Another member of the group, who looked like she was dressed for a shift in the mailroom, hefted her bag awkwardly and looked uncertain. “I don’t know if the rest of you have heard, but Tim Wade was in the building yesterday. Someone told me he got in a fight with someone in the hallway to the men’s room on thirty. I didn’t see it myself.”
David Schofeld stepped in as the rest turned to the gossiper and started firing questions at her.
“Hold on a minute.” He quieted the group down and sent them in while he stayed behind with Josie. “I don’t know exactly what your mission for the board is, if any, but if you do have their ear you should tell them under no circumstances should they consider reinstating Tim Wade to the company. He’s very much a disruptive force, and things have run much more smoothly here since Lauren fired him.”
“That must have caused some talk in the cubicles,” Josie said.
“Sure. Family infighting is something employees are going to gossip about. But I can honestly say that everyone I know is grateful he’s gone. I’m afraid that’s all I can say.”
Josie watched as he strode to the building entrance. She thought he looked a little grim, but clearly he was a popular guy. Everyone waved a good morning to him.
She didn’t know if Tim was a mere pain in Lauren’s ass or a real threat to her. She decided the only thing she could do to find out more would be to follow Lauren for a while and see what she was up to in her off hours. Did he harass her? Did she interact with him? Did she have women over? She was a little nervous about finding out that last bit. She didn’t want Lauren to have a girlfriend. Though why wouldn’t she? She was gorgeous and rich. She didn’t want any further reason to believe Lauren killed Kelly. What she did want was new leads to surface and a chance to see more of Lauren, even if at a distance. But there were hours to go before she’d come back to watch for Lauren’s exit from the building, and she had to find ways to fill the time.
*
Lauren watched Josie stride out of the office and smiled. She’d been distracted for months, but she wasn’t dead. Josie Harper was attractive, in a way similar to Cory—assertive-looking, earnest, slightly boyish. But there was a distinct difference in her response. With Josie it was that je ne sais quoi of attraction, impossible to accurately describe to anyone outside its bubble. She thought she saw a spark of interest in Josie’s eyes.
But for now she had more pressing things to attend to. Tim had not given her an assignment recently, which made her fearful he was up to something else. His visit to the office yesterday and the truly unhinged act of punching David Schofeld while on the premises signaled something new. He still held the cards, for until Lauren discovered where he was keeping her parents, he had a complete hold over her. But she also felt him losing his grip a little, going outside the established game plan and letting his anger show.
She looked out of her window, down at the sea of people flowing from the commuter stations to the heart of the Loop. When her parents passed leadership of the company to her she’d been thrilled, both at the challenge she faced in running a company and because she beat out Tim. He’d be reporting to her, which she knew would infuriate him. She hadn’t guessed how virulent his response to being fired would be.
She punched her intercom and heard Eva pick up. “Would you get my lawyer on the phone, Eva? Nancy Prewitt, not the company lawyer.”
“I’ll put her through when I reach her. You know how those lawyers are. Usually unreachable,” Eva said, in her distinct tone of disapproval.
“Make the call. If I’m in a meeting when she calls back, you can interrupt me.”
Two hours later, as she met with her sales and marketing executives at the round table in her office, Eva poked her head in to tell her the call she’d been waiting for was on hold.
“Thank you, Eva.” She stood and looked at the group staring up at her. “Would you excuse me for a few moments? We can meet back here in ten minutes.” They looked mystified but dutifully pushed back from the table and were out the door in a moment. Lauren sat back down and picked up the phone on the table.
“Nancy?”
“How are you, Lauren? I hope you’ve been enjoying your freedom.”
Nancy Prewitt was a middle-aged, thick-set woman with a super-short haircut and a wardrobe of identical navy blue suits she wore every day in court. Lauren had never seen her in anything else. She wore crisp white shirts with cuff links, of all things. Her only other jewelry was a gaudy engagement ring and gold band on her left hand. Lauren had never quite figured out what kind of life Nancy lived outside of her work, if any, but she knew what a bulldog she was when it came to practicing law. She likely would have been found guilty if it weren’t for Nancy convincing the jury there was plenty of reasonable doubt.
“Yes, compared to life in Cook County Jail I’ve been enjoying myself immensely. But the relief wears off. I’m calling to get a recommendation from you.”
Neither woman was much given to chitchat. “What do you need?” Nancy said.
“I’m wondering if your firm uses any private investigators you think highly of.”
There was a pause on Nancy’s end. “Is there something going on I need to know about?”
“No,” Lauren said firmly. “I think our work is done. This is unrelated to the murder case.”
“Okay. The firm does contract with a number of PIs, but the guy I’ve always liked the best is Stan Waterman. He’s ex-homicide, old enough to be thoroughly experienced but not so old he’s going to crap out on you. He’s handled a lot of investigations for us.”
“That sounds fine. Can you put me in touch with him?” Lauren said.
“Of course. It’s odd you ask. I just got the same request from one of your board members.”
Lauren stayed quiet while she tried to figure out what that meant. Was it the board who’d hired the investigator? The thought made her a little breathless, as if something was squeezing the air out of her lungs.
“Are you still there?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, sorry. If you could tell me how to get in touch with Waterman, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’ll email his contact info. Tell him I sent you,” Nancy said. “And don’t be a stranger.”
“Frankly, Nancy, I hope to never have to call you again.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. Good luck with whatever you’re up to.”
They hung up and Lauren stared at the phone. The only way out of this problem with her parents she could see was to try once again to find them herself. Going to the police had led Tim to tie up and gag his parents for three days. He’d made a video to show Lauren, lest she doubt him. The police had been so skeptical of her story of their kidnapping, especially since there were many people saying they were on a trip around the world, that they hardly gave it an effort, except to interview Tim. Either the PI she’d hired after that had been incompetent, or Tim was amazingly eagle-eyed. He’d spotted him right away. She was now willing to take the risk of a second try, and she’d have to trust Stan Waterman to stay under Tim’s radar.