the day she died. There wasn’t much that day besides junk mail and a last-minute confirmation with the librarian, who promised to provide wine and cheese. I wondered how much wine Gretchen had had after her talk—on top of her likely prereading drink. I sighed and looked at the previous few days’ e-mails. A friendly e-mail from an old coworker, asking Gretchen what was new. Something from a book club in Florida. A couple of days before that:
Hey Gretchen,
Are you coming up to Emerson again this weekend? The spring carnival is happening Fri-Sun. Interested in coming along with me? Some real townie culture there that I thought you’d like to soak up for your book!
Cheers,
Kevin
Of course, I didn’t know who Kevin was, but obviously he was some guy she’d met during her research trips to Emerson. I wondered how old he was, and if he had any connection to her research. And I was always wary of people who signed their e-mails with “Cheers.” I scanned Gretchen’s recent e-mails for more correspondences with him.
Two weeks earlier he’d written: Really great to see you again. Let me know the next time you’re in town—would love to talk to you again.
I didn’t see anything else recent. When I did a search of all of her e-mails, I found only one more—a much more formal one, from about six weeks earlier:
Dear Ms. Waters,
I’d be happy to speak with you. Tuesdays and Thursdays after six work best for me, but if it must be on a weekend, let me know and maybe we can work something out.
Kevin Conley
His note was a response to a similarly formal one from Gretchen, stating that she was researching Shelly Brewer’s murder and requesting an interview with him. I scribbled down Kevin Conley as a possible contact.
Looking again at her more recent e-mails, I saw that Gretchen had also been in touch with Jeremy about a week before her fall.
I’m glad you called me, Jeremy had written. Thanks for letting me know. I don’t know how I feel about it, but I’m glad you let me know. I’m glad to hear you’re making headway with your book.
There’s still a lot of time to work something out, Gretchen had replied. We’ll talk again.
How odd, I thought, that Gretchen was ignoring her agent’s e-mails but meanwhile giving Jeremy the impression that her book was going well. Maybe it was just pride—wanting her ex to think her life was going swimmingly. Or maybe she was telling him something about the book others didn’t know—Gregor had certainly suspected as much.
I wrote a quick e-mail to Jeremy, explaining to him a little about the situation—how I’d recently gotten Gretchen’s manuscripts and files from Mrs. Waters and Gregor—and saying I’d like to chat with him soon, as we’d discussed.
Then I went back to Gretchen’s e-mail account and searched for Judy and Diane . It seemed they were experts on Keith and Bruce and the paternity question, so I figured they ought to be useful. Gretchen had had some e-mail communication with Judy. Most recently, Judy had written to Gretchen:
Hi Gretchen, When are you coming to Emerson next? Would love to see you again, have you for dinner if you’re not too busy! Been missing you! Diane tells me she saw you at Subway. I didn’t even know you were here last weekend. I hope you are well and making great progress on your book. Judy
Before that, Judy and Gretchen’s communication had been brief and conversational, usually regarding Gretchen’s comings and goings in Emerson, invitations to meet for coffee or have meals at Judy’s.
I copied Judy’s e-mail address into my own laptop and wrote her a message, introducing myself as Gretchen’s friend, explaining that I’d been asked to get Gretchen’s manuscripts in order and would like to chat with her about Gretchen’s recent “research.” (I didn’t know what else to call it.) I gave her my cell number and asked her to call me if she was willing to talk. Then I did the
Hey Gretchen,
Are you coming up to Emerson again this weekend? The spring carnival is happening Fri-Sun. Interested in coming along with me? Some real townie culture there that I thought you’d like to soak up for your book!
Cheers,
Kevin
Of course, I didn’t know who Kevin was, but obviously he was some guy she’d met during her research trips to Emerson. I wondered how old he was, and if he had any connection to her research. And I was always wary of people who signed their e-mails with “Cheers.” I scanned Gretchen’s recent e-mails for more correspondences with him.
Two weeks earlier he’d written: Really great to see you again. Let me know the next time you’re in town—would love to talk to you again.
I didn’t see anything else recent. When I did a search of all of her e-mails, I found only one more—a much more formal one, from about six weeks earlier:
Dear Ms. Waters,
I’d be happy to speak with you. Tuesdays and Thursdays after six work best for me, but if it must be on a weekend, let me know and maybe we can work something out.
Kevin Conley
His note was a response to a similarly formal one from Gretchen, stating that she was researching Shelly Brewer’s murder and requesting an interview with him. I scribbled down Kevin Conley as a possible contact.
Looking again at her more recent e-mails, I saw that Gretchen had also been in touch with Jeremy about a week before her fall.
I’m glad you called me, Jeremy had written. Thanks for letting me know. I don’t know how I feel about it, but I’m glad you let me know. I’m glad to hear you’re making headway with your book.
There’s still a lot of time to work something out, Gretchen had replied. We’ll talk again.
How odd, I thought, that Gretchen was ignoring her agent’s e-mails but meanwhile giving Jeremy the impression that her book was going well. Maybe it was just pride—wanting her ex to think her life was going swimmingly. Or maybe she was telling him something about the book others didn’t know—Gregor had certainly suspected as much.
I wrote a quick e-mail to Jeremy, explaining to him a little about the situation—how I’d recently gotten Gretchen’s manuscripts and files from Mrs. Waters and Gregor—and saying I’d like to chat with him soon, as we’d discussed.
Then I went back to Gretchen’s e-mail account and searched for Judy and Diane . It seemed they were experts on Keith and Bruce and the paternity question, so I figured they ought to be useful. Gretchen had had some e-mail communication with Judy. Most recently, Judy had written to Gretchen:
Hi Gretchen, When are you coming to Emerson next? Would love to see you again, have you for dinner if you’re not too busy! Been missing you! Diane tells me she saw you at Subway. I didn’t even know you were here last weekend. I hope you are well and making great progress on your book. Judy
Before that, Judy and Gretchen’s communication had been brief and conversational, usually regarding Gretchen’s comings and goings in Emerson, invitations to meet for coffee or have meals at Judy’s.
I copied Judy’s e-mail address into my own laptop and wrote her a message, introducing myself as Gretchen’s friend, explaining that I’d been asked to get Gretchen’s manuscripts in order and would like to chat with her about Gretchen’s recent “research.” (I didn’t know what else to call it.) I gave her my cell number and asked her to call me if she was willing to talk. Then I did the
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