Thirty-five

DETECTIVES Lori Soles and Sue Ellen Bass arrived with their game faces on.

Tagged the “Fish Squad” by their peers, Soles and Bass cut through the pack of pastel tees like a couple of hammerheads parting a school of rainbow fish.

In their mid-thirties, the two tall women—one blonde, one brunette—reminded me of an old married couple, together so long they could read each other’s thoughts (and twang each other’s nerves). The pair even dressed alike. Today’s ensemble consisted of sharp-creased slacks and battleship gray blazers. The only dash of color came from the gold shields clipped to their belts.

When the sister skyscrapers halted in the middle of the rainbow pack, all conversation ceased. Then CEO Sydney announced—

“Good afternoon, Detective Soles, Detective Bass.”

The officers nodded. “Ms. Rhodes.”

The greeting surprised me. Since when did these three know one another? Sydney’s next words gave me a clue.

“The Cinder account information you formally requested has been sent to you. What more could you possibly require from me or my business?”

Sue Ellen Bass tossed her dark ponytail—pulled so tightly that no wrinkle would dare crease her forehead. “We’re not here about the Carol Lynn Kendall case. We’re here to speak with Clare Cosi on another matter.”

I stepped forward. “Is this about the young woman in the river? The one I found?”

Lori Soles’s head bobbed, along with her loose blond ponytail. “You’re on our interview list.”

“Then we’ll be going,” Sydney said, snapping her fingers for her posse to follow.

Sue Ellen blocked her exit. “Not so fast. Since you’re here, we’d like to speak with you, too. You’re also on our list.”

“What do you mean? How could I be on your list for a woman found in the river? Unless—” Sydney’s frown deepened. “Was she a Cinder user?”

Sue Ellen jerked a thumb toward the fireplace. “Take a seat over there. Let’s talk in private.”

“Must we do this now?”

Lori cocked her head. “We must.”

The CEO followed the two detectives across our wood plank floor. Like a loyal guard dog, Cody followed a few steps behind, lingering close enough to eavesdrop while the Fish Squad questioned Sydney.

They talked too quietly for me to overhear—other than Sydney’s insisting, “No, I’ll stand,” after the Fish Squad again requested that she take a seat.

Instead, Sydney anxiously checked her smartwatch and folded her arms. As the detectives continued to speak, her impatient expression completely froze then morphed into one of obvious shock.

Dropping into a café chair, Sydney looked with distress to Cody, who crouched by her side. The pair whispered back and forth. After a minute, Soles and Bass sat down across from Sydney, and Cody stood behind her.

As the detectives continued their questioning, the Cinder CEO grew increasingly agitated, aggressively shaking her sleek blond pixie. Finally, she rose and tapped her watch. Soles and Bass glanced at each other, appearing to reach an agreement to let Sydney go.

When the Cinder CEO rejoined me and her curious Tinkerbells, her voice sounded scratchy and much weaker.

“Clare, I’m due for a meeting back at our Chelsea office. I trust you’ll be ready for our Saturday night action plan?”

“We’ll be ready.”

“Good. Where’s your phone?”

“Why?”

She tapped hers then waved it. “I have my contact information for you.” She transferred it with a warning. “That’s my private information. Get in touch anytime if you need my help. But don’t share it.”

“I understand.”

“And do not forget to set up those outdoor tables,” she ordered, the perky power already back in her voice. “Trust me, you’re going to need them!”

Finally, Sydney squared her shoulders, and with a wave of her magic pinkie, she and her pastel army marched into the chilly autumn afternoon.

Only AJ lingered behind, apparently to “pack up,” but she appeared more focused on flirting with Dante.

Sue Ellen Bass, on the other hand, was more interested in the activity outside our French doors, where the Cinder-ellas were piling into Uber carriages.

“They certainly seem motivated,” she told her partner. “Maybe I should give Cinder a try.”

Lori exhaled hard. “Do us both a favor, Sue. Stick with cops.”

“You’re just saying that because you married one.”

“I’m saying that because nine out of ten civilian males can’t handle you.”

“Based on what?”

“You know what. I can barely keep up with the Italian opera that is your love life.”

“I told you a thousand times. Nick stabbed himself while peeling an avocado.”

“In the groin?”

“Near the groin. And there was no permanent damage.”

“Excuse me, Detectives,” I interrupted. “You did come here to interview me, right?”

The Fish Squad turned around, cop faces back on.