it?â
âNo,â I answered, pulling away. âI didnât have time. I doubt it was still there, anyway. Whoever killed Thoreau searched the house thoroughly. It was a very professional job.â
âOh God,â Marion whimpered, groping for the chair behind C. C.âs desk. Her âOh Godâ sounded just like C. C.âs.
âGod had nothing to do with this,â I said feeling vaguely superior. I could have told them about the tape I found, only I didnât know what I had yet. Probably a rerun of âStar Trek.â Besides, they had lied about Sherman, and I did not know why. Instead, I took the envelope from my pocket, the one containing the ten thousand dollars, and tossed it on top of the desk. They both stared at it.
Finally, C. C. asked, âYou donât think I did it, do you?â
There it was, the question I had been wrestling with since I found Dennis Thoreau, his mouth full of carpet.
âDo you think I did it?â
I looked into her aquamarine eyes, moist with tears; looked deep to see what truths were hidden there. I found only confusion, fear and ⦠was it sorrow? If it was an act, it was a good one. Meryl Streep could take lessons from her.
âNo,â I replied.
âThank you for trusting me,â she said, and gave my hand a squeeze.
I could have let it go at thatâprobably should haveâbut I didnât like the way Marion was looking me up and down like she was deciding whether to choose me for her side in a game of dodgeball.
âIt isnât a matter of trust,â I said. âIf you had killed him, you would probably have the videotape already. If you had the videotape, you wouldnât have hired me.â
Besides, I didnât want her to be guilty. She was just too damned pretty to be guilty.
A light went on behind Marionâs eyes. âYou said the house was searched. That means whoever killed Thoreau knew about the videotape.â
âYes,â I said. âItâs possible that Thoreau was killed for an unrelated reasonâdrugs perhaps. But I donât believe in coincidences.â
âWe no longer require your services, Mr. Taylor,â Marion said abruptly.
âYou donât think so?â
âNo.â
âArenât you worried?â
âNo.â
âThe man who was blackmailing you is murdered and the thing he was blackmailing you with is missing, but youâre not worried. If it was me, Iâd be scared to death. How come youâre not scared to death, Marion?â
âIn politics you learn to go with the flow,â she answered and smiled.
âIâll remember you said that if Iâm ever called to testify.â
âFuck you.â
âMarion!â C. C. was shocked by Marionâs language. I ignored it.
âYou told me that three people knew about the tape. Thereâs you and Carol Catherine,â I said. âWhoâs the third?â
âThank you for your time,â Marion said.
âItâs Anne Scalasi, isnât it? Thatâs why youâre so confident. You think sheâs protecting you.â
âYour services are no longer required, Mr. Taylor,â Marion repeated with greater emphasis. âWe can manage from here.â
I stood before the desk, my hands clenched. If she thought for one minute Anne Scalasi was protecting her, if she thought my best friend would cover up for murder ⦠My God! She thinks Annie committed murder. For her. I was shaking my head from side to side when she said, âGood-bye, Mr. Taylor.â
I was impressed by her coolness, her forced detachment. This was one situation that Marion had not planned, could not have foreseen, yet she would be damned if she was going to let it intrude on her grand design, interfere with the destiny she had ordained for herself and C. C. Monroe. Marion would do with this setback what I have always done with mine: She would deal with it.
Tim Curran
Elisabeth Bumiller
Rebecca Royce
Alien Savior
Mikayla Lane
J.J. Campbell
Elizabeth Cox
S.J. West
Rita Golden Gelman
David Lubar