The Aura by Carrie Bedford Page B

Christ. You’ve got to be kidding.” Alan shot a look of disbelief at me. “How do you know?”
    “I found her, found the body. After she was missing for two days I was worried about her and went to her apartment.”
    “I hope this doesn’t mess up our contract with Montgomery,” Alan muttered. I glared at him.
    “How could you even think like that? God, Alan. I don’t think you have any feelings for anyone. She was sitting here in this conference room last week and now she’s dead.”
    Josh came over to me and gave me a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “About all of it.”
    I knew he was apologizing for not believing me when I told him about the aura over Rebecca, but we couldn’t say anything more there in the office.
    Alan’s face went red with the effort, but he managed an apology too. “It’s not that I don’t care,” he said. “She seemed like a very nice person. It’s just that we could do without any disruptions.”
    “I’m sure there’ll be no impact on the project,” I said. “The contract is signed. Peter Montgomery will find someone else to handle the finances of it all, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, yes. Probably. Damn.”
    It wasn’t clear how word got out, but it did. In the middle of the afternoon, I locked myself in a cubicle in the bathroom just to get away from the onslaught of questions. Even the team members who hadn’t worked on the Montgomery project professed to be shocked and saddened, and pressed for details of how she’d died. I was glad when it was time to go home. I couldn’t pay attention to what people said, meetings seemed pointless, project planning was a waste of time. We were insects scurrying around, busy busy, oblivious to the foot that was going to crush us to death at any moment.
    ***
    Josh caught up with me in the lobby to ask if we could go out for dinner. I was too tired for a long evening out, so we settled for a drink at the Hare and Hounds. We found a table near the fire, away from the blare of the television and the draft from the main door. Logs burned in an antique tiled fireplace, the smell of smoke mingling with the odor of beer-sodden carpet. Condensation ran down the wavy glass of the old windows, gathering in pools on the sills.
    “I’m so sorry, Kate,” Josh said again. “That must have been awful, finding Rebecca.”
    I just nodded. It was hard to speak.
    “And I’m really sorry I didn’t believe you. Well, I did, but with some reservations.”
    “It’s all right, Josh. I’ve had a hard time believing it too.”
    A group of young men in suits came in, loud, laughing, making jokes about someone’s age, celebrating a birthday perhaps.
    “Have you seen any more of those auras?” he asked. I told him about Nick’s.
    “That’s very odd,” he said, leaning into the straight-backed chair. Covered in red plush and gilt-framed, the chairs looked as though they’d been lifted from the palace at Versailles. But the velvet was stained, and the gilt chipped, showing patches of dull brown paint underneath.
    “What do you think?” he asked. “What would Rebecca and Nick have in common apart from living in the same building? Just a coincidence?”
    I shook my head. I’d been thinking about it all day. What were the odds that it was pure chance? Small, I thought. There had a to be connection, but I couldn’t see what it was.
    “The boyfriend must have something to do with her death,” I said. I told Josh what I knew, which wasn’t much. “I think they had a fight on Sunday evening. She fell, or was pushed, and died, and then he moved his stuff out.”
    “Sounds like a plausible scenario,” Josh said. “Did she tell you what time she was meeting him?”
    “No, she was vague,” I said. She’d been vague about almost everything to do with Edward. Apart from his name, I knew nothing about him. Nick had seen him, he’d said, on the stairs a few times, but never talked to him.
    “Maybe the boyfriend is the connection between