Her personal line rang and she punched it. Norman returning her call.
“Company tonight, sweetheart. You remember the Slidells, from Yale?”
He nodded and rubbed his chin. “Vegetarians?”
“You’re amazing. He’s vegan, I think, Lamar. At least he wears an equals sign on a necklace, Church of Reason.”
“Okay.” He seemed distracted. “I was going downtown for lunch. Market’s not open; I’ll see what Publix has.”
“No eggs or cheese?”
“Heavens, no. I wouldn’t enslave our fellow creatures.” He didn’t smile.
“There’s something wrong?”
“Bad morning. Talk about it later.”
“We can talk now. There’s no one here.”
“No … no, I have to check some stuff out …”
“I mean, I’ll have the Slidells with me when I come home.”
“It’s okay. Later.” The screen went blank.
She almost called him right back. Something was really bothering him. But the other phone rang, her public line.
“¿Buenos?” She’d seen the woman before, but couldn’t place her.
“Good morning, Dr. Bell. June Clearwater, mayor’s office.” Of course, the mayor had heard about the anniversary broadcast and wanted some “input.” He wanted to be sure that Rory would mention Gainesville, she assumed. He came on-line.
“Mr. Southeby. ‘Input’?”
He showed a professional number of teeth. “Rory. I just heard about your shooting schedule and wanted—”
“Hold it. You know my schedule and I don’t?”
“The camera crew was just here,” he said, a little defensive. “They were headed for you next.”
“That’s wonderful. They were supposed to call.” On cue, the call-waiting icon strobed in the corner of the screen. “That’s probably them. Talk to you later, Cameron.” She punched control-#, to record.
It was Chancellor Barrett, his face all grim furrows. “Rory. Do you remember a young man named Ybor Lopez?”
“As in Ybor City? Sounds vaguely familiar.”
“He used to work in Deedee’s office.”
“Used to … is he the one who got arrested last month?”
“That’s right; data crime. He was nosing through your files, among others. He hasn’t been in touch with you, then, since his arrest?”
“Not that I recall. He might have tried—I probably have five or ten people call this number for every one that gets through. I could have someone check the log.”
“That would be fine … um … the police might be bothering you about this; they just called me. Lopez died in jail this morning, under suspicious circumstances.”
“Oh, that’s a pity. For a computer crime?”
“I don’t know any details. Just thought I’d give you some advance warning.”
“Thanks.” All we need is a bunch of cops rubbing shoulders with the reporters. “I’ll let you know if anything happens. Buenos días.”