cameras. Do you get that?”
“Show me the order, please.”
“Fine.” Eileen didn’t protest anymore. “Here.”
Maya looked down at the screen. There it was—an order for three digital camera frames with hidden cameras.
“This order is a month old.”
“I ordered three for myself. I gave you one of mine.”
A month ago. So the idea that Eileen was in on all this—whatever the hell this was—seemed very unlikely. No one could have foreseen all of this a month ago. And really, what the hell did Maya think Eileen could have done here?
None of it made any sense.
“Maya?”
She turned to Eileen.
“I’m going to skip the part where I’m insulted that you didn’t trust me.”
“I saw something . . .”
“Yeah, I figured that out. What?”
Maya wasn’t in the mood to share that lunacy with Eileen. Eileen might believe, she might not, but either way it would take time to explain and Maya saw no outcome where Eileen could help her down that particular avenue.
“The police learned something strange about Claire’s murder.”
“A lead?”
“Maybe.”
“After all this time?” Eileen shook her head. “Wow.”
“Tell me what you remember about it.”
“About Claire’s murder?”
“Yes.”
Eileen shrugged. “It was a home invasion. Drifters, the police thought. That’s all I know.”
“It wasn’t a home invasion. It wasn’t drifters.”
“What then?”
“The same gun that killed Claire,” Maya said, “killed Joe.”
Eileen’s eyes widened. “But . . . that can’t be.”
“It can.”
“And you learned this on the nanny cam?”
“What? No. The police ran a ballistics test on the bullets they pulled out of Joe’s body. They ran the results through a computer to see if the bullet matched any other cases in the system.”
“And it was a match for Claire?” Eileen collapsed back. “My God.”
“This is where I need your help, Eileen.”
Eileen looked up at her as though through a haze. “Anything.”
“I need you to think back.”
“Okay.”
“Was Claire acting any different before her murder? Was anything odd going on? Anything at all?”
“I always thought it was a random thing.” Eileen was still stunned. “A home invasion.”
“It wasn’t. We know that now. I need you to focus, Eileen, okay? Claire is dead. Joe is dead. The same weapon was used to murder both of them. Maybe they were both mixed up in something—”
“Mixed up in something? Claire?”
“Nothing bad. But something was going on. Something that connected the two of them. Think, Eileen. You knew Claire better than anyone.”
Eileen lowered her head.
“Eileen?”
“I didn’t think it had anything to do with it . . .”
Maya felt that jolt. She tried to stay very still. “Tell me.”
“Claire was acting . . . not weirdly or anything but . . . there was one thing.”
Maya nodded, trying to encourage her to say more.
“We were having lunch at Baumgart’s one day. This was a week, maybe two, before the murder. Her cell phone rang. She turned all white. Now normally she answers the phone in front of me. We don’t really have secrets, you know that.”
“Go on.”
“But this time, Claire grabbed the phone and hurried outside. I looked out the window and I could see she was all animated. She was on for maybe five minutes, then she came back.”
“Did she tell you who was on the phone?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes. She said it was nothing . . .”
“I hear a ‘but.’”
“But it clearly wasn’t nothing.” Eileen shook her head. “How could I not make her tell me? How could I just . . . ? Anyway, she was distracted the rest of lunch. I tried to raise it a few more times, but she just shut me down. Jesus. I should have done more.”
“I don’t know what more you could have done.” Maya thought about it. “The police would have gone through her phone records anyway. They would have looked into all her calls.”
“That’s
“Show me the order, please.”
“Fine.” Eileen didn’t protest anymore. “Here.”
Maya looked down at the screen. There it was—an order for three digital camera frames with hidden cameras.
“This order is a month old.”
“I ordered three for myself. I gave you one of mine.”
A month ago. So the idea that Eileen was in on all this—whatever the hell this was—seemed very unlikely. No one could have foreseen all of this a month ago. And really, what the hell did Maya think Eileen could have done here?
None of it made any sense.
“Maya?”
She turned to Eileen.
“I’m going to skip the part where I’m insulted that you didn’t trust me.”
“I saw something . . .”
“Yeah, I figured that out. What?”
Maya wasn’t in the mood to share that lunacy with Eileen. Eileen might believe, she might not, but either way it would take time to explain and Maya saw no outcome where Eileen could help her down that particular avenue.
“The police learned something strange about Claire’s murder.”
“A lead?”
“Maybe.”
“After all this time?” Eileen shook her head. “Wow.”
“Tell me what you remember about it.”
“About Claire’s murder?”
“Yes.”
Eileen shrugged. “It was a home invasion. Drifters, the police thought. That’s all I know.”
“It wasn’t a home invasion. It wasn’t drifters.”
“What then?”
“The same gun that killed Claire,” Maya said, “killed Joe.”
Eileen’s eyes widened. “But . . . that can’t be.”
“It can.”
“And you learned this on the nanny cam?”
“What? No. The police ran a ballistics test on the bullets they pulled out of Joe’s body. They ran the results through a computer to see if the bullet matched any other cases in the system.”
“And it was a match for Claire?” Eileen collapsed back. “My God.”
“This is where I need your help, Eileen.”
Eileen looked up at her as though through a haze. “Anything.”
“I need you to think back.”
“Okay.”
“Was Claire acting any different before her murder? Was anything odd going on? Anything at all?”
“I always thought it was a random thing.” Eileen was still stunned. “A home invasion.”
“It wasn’t. We know that now. I need you to focus, Eileen, okay? Claire is dead. Joe is dead. The same weapon was used to murder both of them. Maybe they were both mixed up in something—”
“Mixed up in something? Claire?”
“Nothing bad. But something was going on. Something that connected the two of them. Think, Eileen. You knew Claire better than anyone.”
Eileen lowered her head.
“Eileen?”
“I didn’t think it had anything to do with it . . .”
Maya felt that jolt. She tried to stay very still. “Tell me.”
“Claire was acting . . . not weirdly or anything but . . . there was one thing.”
Maya nodded, trying to encourage her to say more.
“We were having lunch at Baumgart’s one day. This was a week, maybe two, before the murder. Her cell phone rang. She turned all white. Now normally she answers the phone in front of me. We don’t really have secrets, you know that.”
“Go on.”
“But this time, Claire grabbed the phone and hurried outside. I looked out the window and I could see she was all animated. She was on for maybe five minutes, then she came back.”
“Did she tell you who was on the phone?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes. She said it was nothing . . .”
“I hear a ‘but.’”
“But it clearly wasn’t nothing.” Eileen shook her head. “How could I not make her tell me? How could I just . . . ? Anyway, she was distracted the rest of lunch. I tried to raise it a few more times, but she just shut me down. Jesus. I should have done more.”
“I don’t know what more you could have done.” Maya thought about it. “The police would have gone through her phone records anyway. They would have looked into all her calls.”
“That’s
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