there’s no way we’re going to solve the other murder or the attempted one. All we’ve got is Theresa killed by an item that never left our office. That’s where we start. The torn cards are obviously an attempt to connect her murder with the first one. But that doesn’t work, not with that damn letter opener. I’m going with this chart of mine! One of us !”
“Or someone who came into the office on Saturday.”
“Ah, true! Got to call Ed about that.” Rita hunched over the computer and smiled approval of her own creation. “We know everyone and their feelings about Theresa better than the police do. Besides, it’s fun. You cried most of last night. Time to get over it.”
“You don’t get over … over the death of a friend in one night!”
Rita studied Jean’s face.
“Theresa you can get over in one night,” she said flatly. “Do you remember you said it was almost a relief you didn’t need to have Theresa review the offer? That her criticism was hard to take?”
Jean put her hands over her face.
“That was awful. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But it was true. In vino veritas, girlfriend.”
It was true. The memory of finding Theresa still brought little waves of nausea, but Jean was beginning to realize this was not at all like her father’s death. The pain of grief just wasn’t there, even when she tried to find it. What was painfully there was the image of Theresa’s body and the memories of her father it brought back.
She dropped back onto the couch.
“Okay, so Theresa was a little … distant. Not warm. But she was important to me, helped me a lot. And I am sad, not really up to this detective stuff. Anyway, won’t the police take care of this?”
“They’ll take care of a lot of stuff we can’t, like interviewing neighbors and investigating Theresa’s other friends, but we know our staff better than they do. We can just talk about it and see what comes up. And …” Rita paused and made sure she had her friend’s attention. “I know a lie when I see one. Not just because of my family. There was this course the board offered. The guy called them “tells,” like they do in poker, little physical signs that clue you into a person’s thoughts and emotions. Very useful when closing a deal. You should take it.”
“Can’t afford it. But I get it. Like on TV. ‘Criminal Minds.’ Behavioral analysis. And that other one, ‘Lie to Me’. We can do that. And I guess I can do this. Can’t think about anything else anyway, so okay, I will play your game.” Jean paused. “Maybe I owe it to her. New thought there. I’m only thinking of myself, aren’t I? Although I can’t imagine anyone in our office …”
A sip of wine drowned the unwelcome thought.
“So I really do need to talk to Ed,” Rita said. “He’s known her the longest. This was just the agents yesterday, trading stories about our interviews with that incredibly sexy detective.”
Jean tried to bring up a picture of the figures that had interviewed her yesterday.
“Was he incredibly sexy?”
“You were totally out of it, weren’t you? Yes. He was. Grim. Something massively sexy about grim in a dark, handsome, really built guy. I did not appreciate you and Viv arriving when you did last night. He might have stayed. But you’re forgiven. Detectives aren’t allowed to date potential suspects, anyway. I asked.”
“Still think it’s odd he came here.”
“Not really. I think they tracked down all of us ASAP. See where we were. And somebody told him I was your best friend. I was grilled about you. Ever so sweetly.” Rita grinned. “Great fun! Now. Who do you think would have had the guts to stick that thing in Theresa’s neck? You’re the one with the imagination. Oh, wait! Forgot where I was. Call Ed and find out who came in the office and could have taken the letter opener.”
“Don’t want to.”
Jean wished Rita wouldn’t keep pulling up that unwanted image. She cupped her hands
“Or someone who came into the office on Saturday.”
“Ah, true! Got to call Ed about that.” Rita hunched over the computer and smiled approval of her own creation. “We know everyone and their feelings about Theresa better than the police do. Besides, it’s fun. You cried most of last night. Time to get over it.”
“You don’t get over … over the death of a friend in one night!”
Rita studied Jean’s face.
“Theresa you can get over in one night,” she said flatly. “Do you remember you said it was almost a relief you didn’t need to have Theresa review the offer? That her criticism was hard to take?”
Jean put her hands over her face.
“That was awful. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But it was true. In vino veritas, girlfriend.”
It was true. The memory of finding Theresa still brought little waves of nausea, but Jean was beginning to realize this was not at all like her father’s death. The pain of grief just wasn’t there, even when she tried to find it. What was painfully there was the image of Theresa’s body and the memories of her father it brought back.
She dropped back onto the couch.
“Okay, so Theresa was a little … distant. Not warm. But she was important to me, helped me a lot. And I am sad, not really up to this detective stuff. Anyway, won’t the police take care of this?”
“They’ll take care of a lot of stuff we can’t, like interviewing neighbors and investigating Theresa’s other friends, but we know our staff better than they do. We can just talk about it and see what comes up. And …” Rita paused and made sure she had her friend’s attention. “I know a lie when I see one. Not just because of my family. There was this course the board offered. The guy called them “tells,” like they do in poker, little physical signs that clue you into a person’s thoughts and emotions. Very useful when closing a deal. You should take it.”
“Can’t afford it. But I get it. Like on TV. ‘Criminal Minds.’ Behavioral analysis. And that other one, ‘Lie to Me’. We can do that. And I guess I can do this. Can’t think about anything else anyway, so okay, I will play your game.” Jean paused. “Maybe I owe it to her. New thought there. I’m only thinking of myself, aren’t I? Although I can’t imagine anyone in our office …”
A sip of wine drowned the unwelcome thought.
“So I really do need to talk to Ed,” Rita said. “He’s known her the longest. This was just the agents yesterday, trading stories about our interviews with that incredibly sexy detective.”
Jean tried to bring up a picture of the figures that had interviewed her yesterday.
“Was he incredibly sexy?”
“You were totally out of it, weren’t you? Yes. He was. Grim. Something massively sexy about grim in a dark, handsome, really built guy. I did not appreciate you and Viv arriving when you did last night. He might have stayed. But you’re forgiven. Detectives aren’t allowed to date potential suspects, anyway. I asked.”
“Still think it’s odd he came here.”
“Not really. I think they tracked down all of us ASAP. See where we were. And somebody told him I was your best friend. I was grilled about you. Ever so sweetly.” Rita grinned. “Great fun! Now. Who do you think would have had the guts to stick that thing in Theresa’s neck? You’re the one with the imagination. Oh, wait! Forgot where I was. Call Ed and find out who came in the office and could have taken the letter opener.”
“Don’t want to.”
Jean wished Rita wouldn’t keep pulling up that unwanted image. She cupped her hands
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