Thirty years and two Super Bowl victories later for the Ravens, Baltimoreans still carried a grudge against the moving company that had taken their beloved Colts away.
“I’m on top of those details, thank you very much. But I want you to go over to the Four Seasons, make some discreet inquiries. We need to figure out who had access to Melisandre’s suite.”
“Isn’t that Brian’s job?”
“It was. She fired Brian. Perhaps a little impetuous and unfair, but that’s Missy. She will not tolerate failure.”
Missy .
“This could have happened in the plant where the sugar was packaged. It could have happened anywhere. Did the hotel provide the sugar? Did Melisandre shop for her own groceries? The opportunities for contamination are endless, from the store to the delivery, to whoever put it in a bowl to begin with. And who still puts sugar in a bowl, anyway? Why so fancy?”
“Melisandre was raised in a household where things were done in a certain way. Her father was from here, but her mother was British and Melisandre was born in London. Certain rituals were observed.”
Again, Tess was irked by this intimate knowledge. Sure, it was something any friend could know. And it wasn’t as though Tyner was a virgin when he married her aunt a few years ago. Her fabulous, gorgeous aunt, who was much too good for him. But Tess’s preferred narrative about her aunt and Tyner was that both were sexual adventurers who had discovered true love with each other. Okay, Tynerand Melisandre had dated back in the day. Tyner had dated everyone , back in the day. But family facts, breakfast knowledge—you couldn’t say it was TMI, but it was more “I” than Tess needed.
“She’s terrified, Tess. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He disconnected without saying good-bye. Presumably to go tend to poor little Melisandre. Missy .
Tess turned to Sandy, riding shotgun. Oh, yes, that was the other thing she hated about taking phone calls in the car: Sandy had heard every word of the conversation, through the dash. She always forgot to tell callers when someone was listening, although she knew that was the proper etiquette.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
“Weird. She’s a puzzler.”
“Like all women?”
“No. On an individual basis. I understand a lot of women. You, for example.”
“The other day you said you never knew what I was going to say next.”
“I never know what you’re going to say , but your feelings are all but written on your big mick forehead. I just don’t get her agenda, which means I don’t get our agenda. When I was a murder police, I always knew the objective. Find out who did what. Get it cold. Pass it on to the state’s attorney, and if some defense attorney wanted to say, Well, Pinky killed Peaches because his mother didn’t love him, fine with me. Not part of my job.”
“So what’s going on here?”
“Got me.” Sandy’s shrug implied something else.
“You have an opinion, though.”
“No. I specialize in not having opinions. But—”
“But what?”
“Don’t lose sight of the fact that no one had more chances to doctor her guy’s drink than she did. Doesn’t mean she did it. But the obvious answer …”
Is the obvious answer . Tess knew that was an article of faith in Sandy’s old job.
“Okay, then why?”
“Not my favorite question, as you know.”
“Possibly mine. As you know.”
“Well, they’re making a movie about her, right? Maybe she just needed something to happen.”
“Tyner said she’s terrified. That’s hard to fake.”
Another shrug. It wasn’t a who-knows shrug. If anything, it seemed to indicate a world of knowledge that Sandy didn’t want to share.
“Guy had a seizure. If she’s responsible, then she’s worried that she’s gone too far.”
Tess chewed on that. Chewed on it almost literally, absentmindedly grabbing a pen from the pocket between the seats, putting it in her mouth, and gnawing on the top.
“I see you
“I’m on top of those details, thank you very much. But I want you to go over to the Four Seasons, make some discreet inquiries. We need to figure out who had access to Melisandre’s suite.”
“Isn’t that Brian’s job?”
“It was. She fired Brian. Perhaps a little impetuous and unfair, but that’s Missy. She will not tolerate failure.”
Missy .
“This could have happened in the plant where the sugar was packaged. It could have happened anywhere. Did the hotel provide the sugar? Did Melisandre shop for her own groceries? The opportunities for contamination are endless, from the store to the delivery, to whoever put it in a bowl to begin with. And who still puts sugar in a bowl, anyway? Why so fancy?”
“Melisandre was raised in a household where things were done in a certain way. Her father was from here, but her mother was British and Melisandre was born in London. Certain rituals were observed.”
Again, Tess was irked by this intimate knowledge. Sure, it was something any friend could know. And it wasn’t as though Tyner was a virgin when he married her aunt a few years ago. Her fabulous, gorgeous aunt, who was much too good for him. But Tess’s preferred narrative about her aunt and Tyner was that both were sexual adventurers who had discovered true love with each other. Okay, Tynerand Melisandre had dated back in the day. Tyner had dated everyone , back in the day. But family facts, breakfast knowledge—you couldn’t say it was TMI, but it was more “I” than Tess needed.
“She’s terrified, Tess. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He disconnected without saying good-bye. Presumably to go tend to poor little Melisandre. Missy .
Tess turned to Sandy, riding shotgun. Oh, yes, that was the other thing she hated about taking phone calls in the car: Sandy had heard every word of the conversation, through the dash. She always forgot to tell callers when someone was listening, although she knew that was the proper etiquette.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
“Weird. She’s a puzzler.”
“Like all women?”
“No. On an individual basis. I understand a lot of women. You, for example.”
“The other day you said you never knew what I was going to say next.”
“I never know what you’re going to say , but your feelings are all but written on your big mick forehead. I just don’t get her agenda, which means I don’t get our agenda. When I was a murder police, I always knew the objective. Find out who did what. Get it cold. Pass it on to the state’s attorney, and if some defense attorney wanted to say, Well, Pinky killed Peaches because his mother didn’t love him, fine with me. Not part of my job.”
“So what’s going on here?”
“Got me.” Sandy’s shrug implied something else.
“You have an opinion, though.”
“No. I specialize in not having opinions. But—”
“But what?”
“Don’t lose sight of the fact that no one had more chances to doctor her guy’s drink than she did. Doesn’t mean she did it. But the obvious answer …”
Is the obvious answer . Tess knew that was an article of faith in Sandy’s old job.
“Okay, then why?”
“Not my favorite question, as you know.”
“Possibly mine. As you know.”
“Well, they’re making a movie about her, right? Maybe she just needed something to happen.”
“Tyner said she’s terrified. That’s hard to fake.”
Another shrug. It wasn’t a who-knows shrug. If anything, it seemed to indicate a world of knowledge that Sandy didn’t want to share.
“Guy had a seizure. If she’s responsible, then she’s worried that she’s gone too far.”
Tess chewed on that. Chewed on it almost literally, absentmindedly grabbing a pen from the pocket between the seats, putting it in her mouth, and gnawing on the top.
“I see you
Similar Books
