By the time Isobel arrived at Hugh’s, Sunil was already there. He answered the door singing, and she waved a hello to Hugh before settling on the couch to listen. As Sunil finished the last, yearning phrase of his love ballad, she wondered if his mind was turning to Delphi. He held Isobel’s gaze an extra moment, then broke the mood and flashed an impish smile as if to dispel any fear that he might be pining in real life.
“That was perfect,” said Hugh. “Hello, Isobel.”
“Hi, guys. Listen, I know I’m a little late, but I can only stay until nine. I have to go back to my office to work on a last-minute project.”
“Given everything that’s happened there recently, do you think it’s a good idea?” Sunil asked.
Hugh looked from Sunil to Isobel. “What’s happened there recently?”
Isobel waved him off. “Nothing, really.”
“Only a few mysterious deaths,” said Sunil.
“What?” Hugh exclaimed.
“Sunil is exaggerating,” she said lightly. “A senior partner died of a heart attack, and the other turned out to be…nothing. It’ll be fine. There will be hardly anyone there.”
Sunil’s dark eyes widened. “And that doesn’t strike you as a problem?” He turned to Hugh. “Will you talk some sense into her?”
“I’m not sure I really understand.” Hugh glanced at his watch. “But if our time is limited, we’d better get started.”
Before Sunil could protest, Hugh started the introduction to “Don’t Go Away Mad.” Isobel directed the song to Sunil’s stormy countenance, and by the time she finished, they were all laughing. They ran through their duets, and then Hugh turned to Sunil.
“I think you’re done for now. I’ll just finish up with Isobel, and we’ll reconvene…when did we say…Saturday, right?”
Hugh’s phone rang. While he took the call, Sunil finished stuffing his music into his bag and pulled Isobel with him to the door. “I still don’t feel right about you going back there at night.”
She shook him off. “Four women proofreading German? Our greatest danger is drowning in consonants.”
“I’m serious. If you feel uncomfortable for any reason, get out of there.”
“Of course.”
“I’m going to call you later, just to make sure you’re okay.” He leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Sing pretty.”
She closed the door behind Sunil and returned to the studio. To her surprise, Hugh was sitting on the couch.
“Just thought I’d relax for a sec,” he said.
Isobel frowned. “Okay, but I do have to leave in fifteen minutes.”
“No rest for the weary,” he said, pulling himself up. But instead of sitting down at the piano, he paused at her side and entwined his fingers in hers. She felt a flutter in her stomach as he caressed her face and then kissed her. His touch was gentle, his lips soft and sweet with the lingering mint of his tea. She reached up and encircled her arms around his neck, and with this encouragement, he grew more passionate. After a moment, she pulled away.
“I’ve been longing to do that from the moment you came rushing into that audition room,” he said breathlessly.
The fifteen minutes passed quickly, and it was another hour before Isobel finally pulled away, setting her blouse to rights and returning stray wisps of hair to her ponytail.
“I really have to go,” she said huskily.
“Must you?”
“I promised I would go back tonight. And I like to keep my promises.”
Hugh sat up from the couch, knocking over the ever-present stack of music books in the process. “Then promise me you’ll come back tomorrow evening.”
“Tomorrow we’re going to see Delphi in King John, remember?”
“Can we have our own private first-night party back here?”
To Isobel’s annoyance, she thought suddenly of James, but she quickly closed her mind against him. “I promise.” She brushed a lock of hair off Hugh’s forehead with her lips. “Now aren’t you glad I’m a person who keeps her promises?”
Despite her bravado, Isobel had to admit there was something distinctly creepy about entering the Dove & Flight building at night, alone. For once, she didn’t mind flashing her photo ID at the security guard and signing in, although she wished he had at least bothered to look up before waving her through to the elevators.
When she arrived on the floor, she buzzed and waited. A few moments later Penny answered the main door, bedraggled and bleary-eyed.
“Am I glad to see you,” Penny said. “Come on in. We’re in the small conference room.”
The fluorescent lights shone harsher than usual against the blackness of the night sky, and Isobel’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the halo that seemed to shimmer over every surface. As Penny led her down the hall, Isobel glanced out the window at the office building across the street, where a few other put-upon junior staffers were also working late. She found their presence, distant though it was, vaguely reassuring.
“Dorothy said I could leave when you got here once we bring you up to speed,” Penny said.
She pushed open the door to the conference room, where Dorothy and Katrina were seated at the table. Empty chip bags and sandwich wrappers littered the credenza next to a collection of soda cans and a half-melted bucket of ice. With a start, Isobel realized that not only hadn’t she set foot in this conference room since the day she’d discovered Jason Whiteley dead, but Katrina was sitting in his chair. If the others hadn’t registered the coincidence, she wasn’t going to call attention to it, so she pushed the image of Jason’s dead body from her mind and dumped her stuff on an empty chair.
“Where do we stand?” she asked cheerily.
Katrina glowered at her. “Why do you sound so happy?”
Isobel suppressed the urge to giggle. “Rehearsal went great.”
“Yeah, well, you’re like an hour late.”
Dorothy looked up from her work. “It should go faster now that you’re here. Some of it will be familiar to you from the other draft.”
Katrina was leaning her head on one hand, absent-mindedly stuffing soy crisps into her mouth and circling words with a red pencil. “You know, I actually took German freshman year. Too bad I never studied,” she mumbled through crumbs.
“Is anyone else here?” Isobel asked, with a vague gesture meant to encompass the entire office.
“I was in Harm’s Way earlier, and it looked like everyone had gone,” said Dorothy. “Nobody’s down here but us.”
“Can I go now?” Penny asked.
“Sure, that’s fine.” Dorothy waved her off. “You’ve been a big help, but it’s really a three-person job.”
Katrina pushed her papers aside. “I need a break.” She reached for her Diet Coke, gulped down the rest of it, and set the can on the table. “I’ll walk you out,” she said to Penny.
Dorothy gave Isobel a wan smile. “I really appreciate your schlepping back down here.”
Mustering all her willpower not to indulge in a sensory recall of Hugh’s curly brown hair and sinewy back, Isobel nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
Content at having given lip service to inconveniencing Isobel, Dorothy immediately became all business, with the renewed vigor of a general outlining the battle plan to a fresh recruit.
“We’ve inputted all the new information, and Penny laid out the photographs they want to use. Katrina is proofreading our document against their data sheets. You can help her by starting at the end and going backwards until you meet in the middle.”
“Okay.” Isobel pulled forward the stack of papers Dorothy indicated and looked around.
“What do you need?”
“A red pencil.”
Dorothy shoved aside some papers. “Katrina must have taken hers.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got a few. Be right back.”
Isobel returned to her desk. As she reached over her computer keyboard for the pencils, she saw a business envelope tucked under it. She opened it and slid out the contents.
It was a list of the entire Dove & Flight staff. There were ‘X’s next to many of the names, and a handwritten note from Jimmy at the bottom. One name was circled twice.
‘X’ means they’re out. I circled Wilbur, because not only is he out of a job, he’s going to lose his home. Angus set him up in a company apartment in the building and was funneling something extra into his pension. All gone now. Buh-bye.
Wilbur Freed.
Isobel glanced up sharply, half expecting him to materialize suddenly from around the corner. When he didn’t, she exhaled slowly and considered this provocative tidbit.
Nobody noticed Wilbur. He was as invisible as his job, unnecessary and redundant, taken for granted. Slinking stealthily from office to office, Wilbur was perfectly positioned to eavesdrop on private discussions about the merger. He must have been better informed than anyone about the twists and turns of the process.
He likely also knew who took which medications, and where he could find them.
Wilbur’s identity was tied up in the old world of public relations—Angus’s world—Barnaby’s world until he’d turned traitor. When Angus had succumbed to his heart attack, Wilbur must have been crushed. What if they had been working together? Perhaps Angus had poisoned Jason’s coffee at Starbucks. When Barnaby met with Jayla and revived the merger, Wilbur must have realized that Angus’s efforts to preserve his legacy were for naught. It would have been easy for him to swipe the digoxin from Sophie’s desk and doctor Jayla’s coffee.
“Isobel!”
She jumped and flung a hand over her pounding heart. It was Katrina.
“Don’t creep up on me like that!”
“Sorry.” Katrina yawned. “Will you duck into Dorothy’s office and grab the FedEx envelope on her desk?”
“Sure.”
Isobel watched Katrina weave sleepily down the hall. As she stuffed Jimmy’s paper into her pocket, her cell phone rang. It was Delphi.
“Hey, what’s up? How’d your dress rehearsal go?”
There was no answer, just heavy breathing.
“Delphi? Are you butt-dialing me?”
“Here,” rasped a voice.
Panic gripped Isobel. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Stuck…in…elevator. Oh, my God…gonna die…”
“What elevator? The one at the studio?”
“Crappy…piece of…shit…”
Isobel glanced at her watch. It was eleven o’clock. Delphi must have gotten trapped leaving the rehearsal.
“Okay, listen to me,” Isobel said in measured tones. “Is there an emergency button?”
“Pressed.”
“That’s good. That was smart. Do you know if anyone heard it?”
“Graham. Getting…help…”
“Great! I’m sure they’ll get you out of there in no time.”
Delphi gave a strangled groan. Isobel racked her brain for a way to calm her friend.
“Do you have any water with you? If you do, take a sip.”
There was silence on the other end, and then Delphi said in a clearer voice, “Okay.”
“Good.” Isobel continued to the other end of the hall to Dorothy’s office. “Just keep talking to me, okay? How was the dress?”
“F-f-fine.”
“Do you want to hear about my night? Hugh and I hooked up. I had to cut it short, because I had to come back to the office. I’m working late on that annual report.”
Delphi didn’t answer.
Really? Not even interested in Hugh? Isobel thought. This is serious.
“How about this?” She spotted the FedEx envelope on Dorothy’s desk. “Why don’t you recite some of your lines to me? Maybe that will calm you down.”
Delphi whimpered a response. Isobel wasn’t sure whether it was affirmative or not, until Delphi began to speak, haltingly, and quietly.
“‘Grief fills the room up of my absent child, lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, puts on his pretty looks…’”
“That’s great! Keep going.”
Isobel reached for the FedEx envelope, and then stopped abruptly, her hand in midair.
“‘Repeats his words, remembers me of all his gracious parts,’” Delphi continued.
Ignoring the envelope, Isobel picked up the photograph of the dark-haired girl on the horse.
“‘Then, have I reason to be fond of grief? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I—’ Holy shit! They’re here. Oh, thank God. Isobel, you’re the best!”
But Isobel was only barely paying attention. As Constance’s lament to her dead child echoed in her ear, she examined the photo and knew she had seen the girl somewhere else.
More importantly, she knew where.