went out for a Saturday-morning jog. Liz went for a Saturday-morning run. At this point, I would have preferred the jog.
“Sprint to the corner,” she said as we crossed Twelfth Street. “Loser buys coffee.”
“Hope you brought money.”
My lead was slim and, I knew, short-lived, and within a few steps she had pulled even with me. I caught a glimpse of her long legs chewing up sidewalk as she pulled ahead. I gave it one last shot and pulled close to even.
“Got ya,” I said.
“Not quite.”
She took off again and reached the corner a foot ahead of me. We slowed, and she walked with her hands on her hips and seemed like she could do it all again. Sweat trickled down her tan cheeks, but she barely seemed winded.
“Did I win?” I asked.
“Of course. You always win.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You were a bit closer this week,” she said.
“It’s the little victories that matter.”
We walked up to Fourteenth Street, and I tried to slow my breathing as we waited for a truck to rumble past.
“You know I let you win,” I said as we crossed into Union Square.
“Of course you did,” she said, and reached over and slapped my butt. “That’ll teach you to mess with a younger woman.”
We crossed Park Avenue South at Seventeenth Street and walked over to Irving Place, then turned north toward Gramercy Park. We stopped in front of Gramercy Grounds and Liz stretched out her hand and snapped her fingers.
“Fork over the buckeroos.”
“Going to hold me to it, huh?”
“A challenge is a challenge.”
I gave her a ten and took a seat at one of the little tables out front and waited. It was hot and humid, and sweat dripped from my forehead. A few minutes later she was back with the coffees. I noticed her staring as I took a sip.
“May I help you?” I asked.
“You already have,” she said.
“Why the look? Do I have a pimple I don’t know about or something?”
“You look perplexed.”
“I am.”
“The Widow Steele?”
“Yup.”
“You still don’t know what to make of her?”
“Still don’t know what to make of this whole thing. Been four days and I feel like I have nothing,” I said.
“Not sure if it’s nothing,” she said.
“I lied my way in to see Jack’s therapist and pissed him off, and I’m sure I came across as a nut in the process.”
“He’s a shrink; he’s used to nuts.”
“Then I told Marty about her little theory, and he looked at me like I’m insane.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy, if that helps,” she said, smiling a megawatt smile that showed off the dimple on her left cheek.
“And let’s not forget I told Cal Daniels, one of the most powerful TV execs in the business, that I was okay with taking my mug off TV for a few days to chase this. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m nuts.”
A young woman in shorts and a T-shirt walked past with her shades on and headed for the door of the coffee shop. I waited until she was inside before continuing.
“But you want to know the crazy thing?” I asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
“My gut tells me there’s something here. I don’t know what it is,” I said, looking around to make sure no one was nearby, “but I think she may be right.”
“And the note?”
“I don’t know. But maybe something will eventually explain it.”
Liz took a drink of coffee, and there was something about her demeanor that changed. I saw her stare off across the street like she was lost in thought.
“Hello?” I said.
She snapped back and looked at me.
“Solving a world problem?” I asked.
“I’m worried,” she said, looking right at me. “If she’s right, and your gut is right, then someone really did …”
Her voice drifted off and I nodded, knowing where she was going with this.
“I’ve had the same thought.”
“It could get dangerous if you start to figure it out. Someone is going to realize it and—”
“I know,” I said.
“I don’t even want to think about …” She shook
“Sprint to the corner,” she said as we crossed Twelfth Street. “Loser buys coffee.”
“Hope you brought money.”
My lead was slim and, I knew, short-lived, and within a few steps she had pulled even with me. I caught a glimpse of her long legs chewing up sidewalk as she pulled ahead. I gave it one last shot and pulled close to even.
“Got ya,” I said.
“Not quite.”
She took off again and reached the corner a foot ahead of me. We slowed, and she walked with her hands on her hips and seemed like she could do it all again. Sweat trickled down her tan cheeks, but she barely seemed winded.
“Did I win?” I asked.
“Of course. You always win.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You were a bit closer this week,” she said.
“It’s the little victories that matter.”
We walked up to Fourteenth Street, and I tried to slow my breathing as we waited for a truck to rumble past.
“You know I let you win,” I said as we crossed into Union Square.
“Of course you did,” she said, and reached over and slapped my butt. “That’ll teach you to mess with a younger woman.”
We crossed Park Avenue South at Seventeenth Street and walked over to Irving Place, then turned north toward Gramercy Park. We stopped in front of Gramercy Grounds and Liz stretched out her hand and snapped her fingers.
“Fork over the buckeroos.”
“Going to hold me to it, huh?”
“A challenge is a challenge.”
I gave her a ten and took a seat at one of the little tables out front and waited. It was hot and humid, and sweat dripped from my forehead. A few minutes later she was back with the coffees. I noticed her staring as I took a sip.
“May I help you?” I asked.
“You already have,” she said.
“Why the look? Do I have a pimple I don’t know about or something?”
“You look perplexed.”
“I am.”
“The Widow Steele?”
“Yup.”
“You still don’t know what to make of her?”
“Still don’t know what to make of this whole thing. Been four days and I feel like I have nothing,” I said.
“Not sure if it’s nothing,” she said.
“I lied my way in to see Jack’s therapist and pissed him off, and I’m sure I came across as a nut in the process.”
“He’s a shrink; he’s used to nuts.”
“Then I told Marty about her little theory, and he looked at me like I’m insane.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy, if that helps,” she said, smiling a megawatt smile that showed off the dimple on her left cheek.
“And let’s not forget I told Cal Daniels, one of the most powerful TV execs in the business, that I was okay with taking my mug off TV for a few days to chase this. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m nuts.”
A young woman in shorts and a T-shirt walked past with her shades on and headed for the door of the coffee shop. I waited until she was inside before continuing.
“But you want to know the crazy thing?” I asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
“My gut tells me there’s something here. I don’t know what it is,” I said, looking around to make sure no one was nearby, “but I think she may be right.”
“And the note?”
“I don’t know. But maybe something will eventually explain it.”
Liz took a drink of coffee, and there was something about her demeanor that changed. I saw her stare off across the street like she was lost in thought.
“Hello?” I said.
She snapped back and looked at me.
“Solving a world problem?” I asked.
“I’m worried,” she said, looking right at me. “If she’s right, and your gut is right, then someone really did …”
Her voice drifted off and I nodded, knowing where she was going with this.
“I’ve had the same thought.”
“It could get dangerous if you start to figure it out. Someone is going to realize it and—”
“I know,” I said.
“I don’t even want to think about …” She shook
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