‘proactive.’ You know I hate that word.”
“Who was the caterer you used for the party?”
“It’s a small company I use all the time. Why? You don’t think
they
had something to do with this?”
“No, but you need to double-check and make sure that they didn’t take the box of truffles from the hallway and stick it away
somewhere. We need to be sure there’s only
one
box in this picture.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, bag on head again.
“And I think you need some security.”
“You mean like a bodyguard?”
“Maybe.”
“What I need is a food taster. But they went out about five hundred years ago.”
“Why don’t I call that guy who heads corporate security—Eddie something or other.”
“Oh, he’d be a help. The most exciting thing he’s ever done is catch someone smoking in their office.”
“He might have some ideas, though. I’ll call him, and I’ll call Audrey for the party list. When are people supposed to be
here for the planning meeting? We should try to cancel that.”
Tossing the bag of peas on the coffee table, she glanced at her gold Cartier panther watch.
“In two minutes,” she said.
“Can you handle it? Can you act normal? Because for now it’s probably best if they not know a thing. Maybe I should just intercept
them when they get here and say you have a migraine.”
“No,” she said. “I need to do this meeting. We should have started planning October a week ago—and I’ve got to stay busy.
If I don’t, I’ll go out of my mind.”
“Okay, but not a word to anybody,” I told her. “Now, what about Jeff ? We have to get hold of him. Is he at the studio?”
There was a pause, that funny beat like earlier.
“Yes, I think so,” she said. “I need to call him.”
“Are things okay with you two?” I asked.
“Yes, of course,” she said. She held my eyes as she spoke, something liars rarely do, but Cat was a good liar and I couldn’t
tell if what she said was true or false. Maybe everything was just dandy with the two of them. Or maybe it wasn’t and she
just felt uncomfortable telling me. When she and Jeff had been dating, she’d shared their ups and downs with me, the roller-coaster
ride of their romance, but once they’d married and their life had settled down, she’d been more private, protective. I had
been the same way about my husband. At some moment I might need to press her to be more forthcoming, but this didn’t seem
like the time.
I asked if I could use her office since I wanted Audrey to fax me the party guest list, and she said yes, retreating under
the peas again. “One more thing,” I said. “Why would you let me search Heidi’s room when it was clearly still off limits?”
“I didn’t know it was, I
swear
. I called the precinct last night to ask if it was okay to arrange to have it cleaned, and the guy on the desk said okay.”
It sounded like one of Cat’s convenient misunderstandings. I left her lying there and, my adrenaline pumping, took the stairs
to the third floor two at a time.
Audrey was at her desk and I explained quickly that I was with Cat, who was nursing an orca-size migraine, and that we had
just learned there might have been some “irregularities” at the party Thursday night. We needed the guest list right away.
It turned out that not only could she provide a list of the RSVPs but because she had been at the party supervising—as she
did when-ever Cat threw an event—she knew who had actually showed and who hadn’t. I asked her to fax one copy to the number
that Detective Farley had given me and another to Cat’s house.
While I waited anxiously for the fax to come through, I gave the corporate security guy, Eddie, a buzz. He was out of the
office, his secretary told me, but she volunteered his cell phone number, and he answered on the third ring. Describing myself
as Cat’s right-hand person, hyperbole that seemed warranted if I was going to capture his
“Who was the caterer you used for the party?”
“It’s a small company I use all the time. Why? You don’t think
they
had something to do with this?”
“No, but you need to double-check and make sure that they didn’t take the box of truffles from the hallway and stick it away
somewhere. We need to be sure there’s only
one
box in this picture.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, bag on head again.
“And I think you need some security.”
“You mean like a bodyguard?”
“Maybe.”
“What I need is a food taster. But they went out about five hundred years ago.”
“Why don’t I call that guy who heads corporate security—Eddie something or other.”
“Oh, he’d be a help. The most exciting thing he’s ever done is catch someone smoking in their office.”
“He might have some ideas, though. I’ll call him, and I’ll call Audrey for the party list. When are people supposed to be
here for the planning meeting? We should try to cancel that.”
Tossing the bag of peas on the coffee table, she glanced at her gold Cartier panther watch.
“In two minutes,” she said.
“Can you handle it? Can you act normal? Because for now it’s probably best if they not know a thing. Maybe I should just intercept
them when they get here and say you have a migraine.”
“No,” she said. “I need to do this meeting. We should have started planning October a week ago—and I’ve got to stay busy.
If I don’t, I’ll go out of my mind.”
“Okay, but not a word to anybody,” I told her. “Now, what about Jeff ? We have to get hold of him. Is he at the studio?”
There was a pause, that funny beat like earlier.
“Yes, I think so,” she said. “I need to call him.”
“Are things okay with you two?” I asked.
“Yes, of course,” she said. She held my eyes as she spoke, something liars rarely do, but Cat was a good liar and I couldn’t
tell if what she said was true or false. Maybe everything was just dandy with the two of them. Or maybe it wasn’t and she
just felt uncomfortable telling me. When she and Jeff had been dating, she’d shared their ups and downs with me, the roller-coaster
ride of their romance, but once they’d married and their life had settled down, she’d been more private, protective. I had
been the same way about my husband. At some moment I might need to press her to be more forthcoming, but this didn’t seem
like the time.
I asked if I could use her office since I wanted Audrey to fax me the party guest list, and she said yes, retreating under
the peas again. “One more thing,” I said. “Why would you let me search Heidi’s room when it was clearly still off limits?”
“I didn’t know it was, I
swear
. I called the precinct last night to ask if it was okay to arrange to have it cleaned, and the guy on the desk said okay.”
It sounded like one of Cat’s convenient misunderstandings. I left her lying there and, my adrenaline pumping, took the stairs
to the third floor two at a time.
Audrey was at her desk and I explained quickly that I was with Cat, who was nursing an orca-size migraine, and that we had
just learned there might have been some “irregularities” at the party Thursday night. We needed the guest list right away.
It turned out that not only could she provide a list of the RSVPs but because she had been at the party supervising—as she
did when-ever Cat threw an event—she knew who had actually showed and who hadn’t. I asked her to fax one copy to the number
that Detective Farley had given me and another to Cat’s house.
While I waited anxiously for the fax to come through, I gave the corporate security guy, Eddie, a buzz. He was out of the
office, his secretary told me, but she volunteered his cell phone number, and he answered on the third ring. Describing myself
as Cat’s right-hand person, hyperbole that seemed warranted if I was going to capture his
Similar Books
