Chapter 9

 

Harvey carried the coffeemaker from the break room into the interview room and started a fresh pot. He had left a stack of file folders on the table, and Mike was thumbing through them.

“Harv? Cheryl’s here.” Eddie came in, followed by Sergeant Yeaton.

“Thanks for coming, Cheryl. Sit down, Eddie.” Harvey sat down and laid his notebook on the table. Mike slid the file folders closer to him.

“Captain,” Cheryl said with a nod. “Chief. What’s up?”

“A touchy subject,” Harvey replied. “Have you ever experienced any form of sexual harassment in this department?”

Cheryl’s eyebrows shot up. “Is this an internal investigation? I thought we were going to discuss the Bolduc murder.”

“Well, we are,” Harvey conceded. “I just need to ask you about a couple of other things.”

She sat back, meeting his eyes squarely. “Well, the answer is no. This profession is definitely male-oriented, but I think I’ve been treated fairly.”

“No unwelcome advances, lewd comments, that sort of thing?”

She shrugged. “There’s a certain amount of disdain for women, but I’d say, no. I never felt I was being harassed. Okay, once or twice in ten years I’ve told a guy to shut up, but that’s as far as it went.” She looked around at the three of them.

Harvey took his reading glasses from his breast pocket and put them on. “I know you’ve never filed a complaint. Did you ever think about it?”

“No. Harvey, what is this all about?”

“Just wanted to clear the air on that before we move on to the next level.”

“Which is?”

“Want some coffee?”

Eddie sprang to his feet. “I’ll get it. Cream and sugar, Cheryl?”

“No, thanks, just black.”

Mike held out his empty mug to Eddie, and he took it, too.

Cheryl turned back to Harvey. “I’m waiting Captain.”

“Deidre Cleridge.”

“Deidre—” Cheryl’s brow furrowed.

“You remember her?”

“Barely.”

“She was in the Academy with Sarah. They signed on together.”

“Right. She wasn’t on my shift, though.”

“No, she was on the evening shift.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why she quit,” Harvey said.

“I have no idea, but she must have filed a resignation.”

“I’ve got it here.” Harvey tapped the top file folder.

“Then why are you asking me?”

Harvey picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. “We may need your help on this.”

“Whatever this is. You’re being very mysterious.”

Mike said quietly, “Deidre Cleridge was the last woman to file a harassment complaint in this department.”

“First I knew about it,” Cheryl said.

“Me, too,” said Harvey. “I wasn’t in management then, never heard a word about it. Until today, when I started digging.”

Cheryl glanced toward Mike. “It couldn’t have been hushed up?”

Eddie returned and set a cup of coffee in front of Cheryl. Mike reached for his.

“Thanks, Ed. I wouldn’t say it was hushed up exactly. There’s a fine line between protecting privacy and covering things up. I heard about it in an administrative meeting, but I was here in Priority at the time, and it wasn’t really my business. Chief Leavitt seemed to think it was a minor incident, and it was taken care of.”

Harvey opened the top folder. “All I know is, she started … February ninth that year, filed her complaint March second, and quit March twenty-seventh.”

“She must have given a cause,” Cheryl said.

“Personal reasons.” Harvey sat back and waited for Cheryl to think about it.

“What one woman perceives as harassment, another might see as friendly banter.”

“I’m pretty sure this goes well beyond that,” Harvey said.

“Who was her supervisor?”

“Now we get down to the nitty gritty.”

Cheryl frowned at him. “Well, I assume that, since she was on the evening shift, she was under Brad Lyons.”

“Bingo.”

Eddie turned his coffee cup around on the table. “You’ve known Brad a long time, right, Cheryl?”

“Ever since I started. He was a patrolman when I came on.”

“Did he ever try to flirt with you?” Harvey asked.

“Come on, he flirts with everyone.”

“All right, did he ever ask you for a date?”

“Many times. I think it was between wives two and three.”

Harvey asked gently, “Did you go out with him?”

“No. Look, he’s an okay cop, but he’s lousy husband material.”

Eddie smiled, and Harvey gave a sigh.

Cheryl leaned toward him across the table. “You’re telling me Deidre Cleridge filed a harassment complaint against Brad?”

Harvey handed her the file folder.

When she had perused it, he asked, “What was your reaction when Brad asked you out?”

“I told him to buzz off. After eight or ten times, he got the message. But, Harvey, according to this, she alleged he pressured her for sexual favors and used vulgarity and—it wasn’t like that in my case. Honestly.”

“He was never your supervisor,” Mike pointed out.

“True. I was under Terry Lemieux, the day sergeant, until he left here. Terry was always a gentleman, by the way. Then, when Brad went on days, I got his job on the night desk. Our shifts overlap by an hour. I see him every day, but I make sure it stays professional.”

“It takes an effort on your part?” Mike asked.

She shrugged. “He’s always been that way, Chief. If you put him in his place first thing, he toes the line, to a degree. I suppose a woman who was easily intimidated would have a harder time with him.”

Harvey watched her carefully. “I’ve spoken with another female officer who felt exactly that. She was intimidated. She wanted to report it, but was afraid to.”

“Not Sarah. Please don’t tell me it’s Sarah, Harvey. We’re very close. She would have told me.”

“No, not Sarah.”

Cheryl sighed. “Well, let’s see, we have six other female patrol officers, Detective Rood, and a dozen or so civilian support staff.”

“Eighteen civilians,” Harvey corrected her. “I’ve also compiled a list of female employees who have worked here since Brad was hired twelve years ago. Secretaries, dispatchers, clerks, everything. There are fifty-nine, all told. Well, one’s deceased. Fifty-eight.”

“That many?”

“Yes, so you see my problem? It would take Eddie and me weeks to interview them all, and we’re trying to solve a murder here. You’re the ranking female in this department, and you haven’t experienced harassment in your tenure. You’re the ideal person to help us with this.”

“The women would talk to you easier than they would us,” Eddie said.

Cheryl took a deep breath. “I’m flabbergasted. You think this has been a serious, ongoing thing?”

“Yes, I do.” Harvey opened the second file folder. “I have an active officer—one of his subordinates—who claims Lyons ordered her to meet him off duty and propositioned her. Cheryl, if you can help us, I wish you would. Mike’s asked me to investigate these allegations fully. It’s going to take a while, and I don’t want to rush things, but we’ve got three new female officers we plan to hire who are at the Academy now.”

She swallowed. “Sure, just tell me what to do.”

“I want all of these women to feel secure when we interview them. We’ll have to tape the interviews. Some of them know me, and they might feel comfortable with me. Sarah did. But some might prefer to talk to a female officer.”

“Does this mean overtime?”

“Probably. I’ll try to schedule things for late afternoon or early evening, when possible.”

“You can take comp time when it’s over,” Mike said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Cheryl nodded at him.

Harvey stacked the file folders neatly. “I’ll track down Deidre Cleridge myself. Other than her, we’ll start with current employees. If we see a pattern, we’ll have to work our way back.”

“All right. But why isn’t the liaison officer doing this?”

“The liaison officer is a man.”

“I know. Chuck Norton. So? You’re a man, too.”

“Yes, but Norton isn’t in management.”

Mike said, “It’s a volunteer, peer-appointed position. We want this handled by management. If an employee had come forward with a complaint, it would be different, but the way this came out makes it an administrative matter.”

“Will the results be made public?” Cheryl asked.

“That’s tricky. We want to protect privacy, but if the investigation leads to charges, some of it will have to come out.” Mike ran his hand through his hair. “Well, now you know what we’re up against.”

“By the way,” Harvey said, “you don’t need to interview my wife. She worked in Records for twelve weeks last year. I think she’d have told me if anything happened with her, but I’ll talk to her about it to make sure.”

Cheryl sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “Is this investigation limited to Brad Lyons’s conduct?”

“Not necessarily,” Harvey replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Not that it matters now, but Candi Mullins, in Records, told me the old deputy chief grabbed her once in the elevator.”

“The old deputy? You mean Neilsen?” Harvey felt betrayed.

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “He was married.”

Cheryl nodded. “So he was. It was years ago, and he’s gone now. But you might want to ask her about it, for what it’s worth.”

Harvey stared at Mike.

“Don’t look at me,” Mike protested. “I knew nothing about this. But you interview my secretary personally, all right, Cheryl? And listen, Harvey, you’d better tell Brad about this investigation soon.”

“I’d like to get some facts in hand first.”

“I know, but once you start interviewing people, word will leak out. Better he hears it from you.”

 

*****

Jennifer carried Connor to Beth’s back door and rang the bell.

“Thanks for keeping him.” She smiled as Beth reached for the baby.

“No problem,” Beth said.

“I’ll be back right after the funeral. Harvey will probably go to the cemetery with his men.”

Harvey drove toward the funeral home with an air of detachment.

He pulled up at a red light and glanced at Jennifer. “I remember the first time Brad Lyons saw you. It was when you came to the station to put the software on my computer.”

“I don’t remember. I guess I was just eager to see you.”

“He noticed you, all right,” Harvey said. “He’s got a reputation around the station, but I never thought of it as a real problem.”

“I didn’t see him much when I worked there. Wasn’t he on nights then?”

“Yes, the evening shift. You’re on our list of females who have worked at the police station since Brad Lyons was hired. I volunteered to interview you.”

“Well, I don’t remember him saying anything out of line to me.”

“I made sure everyone knew we were engaged right off. If it hadn’t been for that, he’d probably have pounced on you.”

“Careful. You can’t make assumptions. Candi Mullins did tell me once to stay out of his way. I assumed he had a reputation, but I didn’t think much about it.”

“Well, we’ve got an allegation now, so we’re looking into it. By the way, what did you think of Detective Bolduc?”

“He was all right. Bright, but not always wise. You were a little put out with him on one case. Lax in his surveillance, or something.”

“I remember.” Harvey was nearing the funeral home, and he began watching for a parking spot. “He did well on the advanced computer training, though.”

“Have you interviewed this woman who filed the complaint on Brad?” Jennifer asked.

“Not yet. I found out she lives in Yarmouth now. I’ll probably have to run up there. I’d kind of like to get it straight from her myself. And Eddie’s going to Biddeford to see Deborah Higgins’s old boyfriend to see if he resented Joey.”

 

*****

Leeanne pulled on a light jacket over her Skowhegan Indians sweatshirt. It was windy, and a few leaves were beginning to fall from the maples in the front yard of the farmhouse. “Travis, come with me to see Grandpa Wainthrop.”

Travis had come home for the weekend, too. The laundry was done, and he slouched in an armchair with a textbook open in his lap.

“All right, if you’ll help me with my English outline later.”

She laughed. “You don’t need help with a paper.”

“This professor is sadistic. Really. They say she never gives A’s.”

Travis insisted on driving the red pickup his parents had bought him for transportation to the university. Leeanne picked a potato chip bag off the passenger seat and threw it to the floor. “What a slob,” she said good-naturedly, buckling her seatbelt.

Travis pulled out onto the county road. “So, how are you really?”

“I’m okay,” she said.

“Do you miss Eddie?”

She stared straight ahead for a moment, then turned to face him. “More than anything.”

Travis nodded. “Eddie’s a great guy. You ought to make up with him.”

“I’ve sort of been trying, but I can’t tell if he wants to or not. Every time I talk to him, I come away feeling really sad.”

“Too bad. He’s cool.”

“So, how are you really?”

“Okay.”

“How’s campus life?”

Travis shrugged. “It’s a little wilder than I expected.”

“You mean, parties and stuff?”

He grimaced. “There’s a lot of drinking, even in the dorm.”

“It was getting bad at Farmington when I was there,” she admitted.

“My roommate, Brett—” Travis shot her a glance. “He drinks all the time.”

“All the time?”

“Every night so far. Sometimes in the daytime. More on weekends. I escape home.”

“That’s rough.”

“It’s disgusting. His friends are always hanging out in our room. I can’t leave anything there or it disappears. Half the time I can’t even get to bed until the wee hours because there’s half a dozen people in there. And it smells. We’ve only had two weeks of school, and I hate it.”

“Have you asked for a new room?”

“They really look down on you if you do that. There was a kid down the hall who complained, and they picked on him so bad he dropped out already.”

“You haven’t tried it, have you?”

“What, drinking?”

She nodded.

“There’s a lot of pressure if you don’t.”

“But you’ve got to hold out against it.”

“It’s easier to just … ”

“Trav, tell me you didn’t.”

“Why not? Did you ever drink?”

She looked away. “Once. At Melissa Woehr’s. Her folks had half a bottle of wine in the cupboard, and Melissa thought we ought to sample it.”

“How much did you drink?”

“One swallow. It was awful. I decided right then I didn’t want to drink, and I haven’t ever since.”

“Well, the guys at school think you’re a wuss if you don’t.”

“What they think doesn’t matter. Haven’t you read about alcohol poisoning and drunk drivers and—”

“Yes.”

“You said yourself, it’s disgusting the way your pig of a roommate lives.”

“I—I gotta admit, I was a little—”

“Scared?” Leeanne was incredulous. “Travis, you’re six feet tall. You played football, for pete’s sake. This guy intimidates you?”

“Not just Brett. Him and three or four other guys. Last week they were pretty plastered, and I was afraid they wouldn’t let me out of the room. Brett threw me a can of beer, and—”

“And what?” She stared at him menacingly.

“And I drank it.”

Leeanne shook her head in disbelief. “All of it?”

“Yup. Then they let me go.”

“And?”

“I got sick.”

“Good,” she said fiercely.

He turned in at their grandfather’s driveway.

“You won’t tell Mom and Dad?”

“Travis, you can’t start drinking. You don’t know what it can do to you.”

“Yes, I do. I don’t want to. But I want to survive my freshman year, too.”

“You could live at home and commute every day.”

“It’s too far.”

She sighed. “God must have a solution to this.”

His eyes darkened. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll avoid the problem when possible and play along when I have to.”

“No, you can’t. I really think you should complain. They’re not supposed to have alcohol in the dorms.”

“Everyone breaks the rules.”

She reached for the door handle. “Whether you like it or not, I’ll be praying about this.”

“I don’t care, as long as you don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

 

*****

Marilyn Wainthrop peeked hesitantly into her daughter’s bedroom, tapping lightly on the door panel.

“Hi, Mom.” Leeanne had her suitcase open on the bed, and was folding her clothing into it.

“Heading out soon?”

“Yeah, I’d like to get back to Jeff’s before dark.”

“Your father thinks we should try to get Grandpa to come stay here this winter.” Marilyn sat down on the opposite side of the bed.

“I think that would be great. He seemed pretty chipper yesterday, but he feels the cold every winter.”

“Yes, and we worry about him burning wood. He won’t switch to oil, but it’s getting to be too much for him. Your dad thinks we ought to make a serious effort to have him come to us. If he wants to go back home in the spring, that’s all right.”

Leeanne opened the top dresser drawer and scanned its contents briefly. “I have stuff in three houses. This is crazy.” She tossed two pair of knee socks into the suitcase.

“We’re really proud of you, that you’re writing this book.”

“Thanks. I’ve started my outline and writing down my own memories of what happened, and I interviewed Jennifer about how they bought the house and everything. I think it’s going well.”

“Will you miss working for the paper?”

Leeanne shook her head. “It’s kind of soon to tell, but mostly I feel relieved.”

“Honey, how are things with Eddie?” Marilyn asked softly. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve kind of been wanting to, but I don’t really have anything to tell. He seems to be avoiding me, and I can’t say as I blame him.”

Marilyn took a blouse from the suitcase and refolded it. “I’ve been trying to pray for you. Your father has, too, but we aren’t really sure what to ask.”

Tears flooded Leeanne’s eyes. Her mother had told her that she was a believer now, and that her dad was going to church with her and Randy and taking what he learned seriously. They struggled, as Leeanne did, trying to understand how they should live.

“We’re very fond of Eddie,” her mother went on. “I thought he was the perfect son-in-law.”

Leeanne smiled wryly. “No, Harvey’s the perfect son-in-law.” She sobered. “I thought he was perfect for me, too, but—oh, Mommy!”

She burst into tears, dismayed by the intensity of grief that engulfed her. Marilyn jumped up, stepped around the foot of the bed, and enfolded her in her arms.

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. One way or another, things will work out.”

“I’m sorry,” Leeanne gasped.

“It’s okay. Go ahead and cry.”

Marilyn managed to slide the suitcase aside, and they sat on the bed together.

“I don’t know why I was so mean to him,” Leeanne said shakily. “He’s so sweet. And he is perfect for me. I’m just—very imperfect, I’m afraid.”

“You still love him, don’t you?”

“Yes. This has been the worst two months of my life. He let me talk to him on Labor Day, and I thought we made some progress, but lately—I don’t know. I can’t read him. I came up here this weekend so he wouldn’t have to see me at church. Well, I wanted to visit you, too, but it seemed like he was avoiding me, and I didn’t want to make it—”

“It’s all right. Here, have a tissue.”

Leeanne plucked one from the box and wiped her eyes. “I don’t want to drive Eddie away from the church down there. He was there first, and he shouldn’t have to look at me every time he goes.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t want you to stay away for his sake, honey.”

Leeanne sniffed. “He deserves somebody better than me. If Jennifer or Abby did what I did, I’d hate them.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“I was so foolish. I let myself get all excited about seeing my byline on the front page. And then that Hawaii trip. But all that means nothing to me, compared to losing Eddie. If I have to be lonely for the rest of my life—I miss him so much, Mom.”

Marilyn smiled and squeezed Leeanne’s shoulders. “At least I’ll know how to pray now.”

Leeanne mopped her face thoroughly, sighed, and stood up. “I guess I’ll take my winter sweaters.” She opened the closet door and stood staring at the long white garment bag. All weekend she had stayed away from the closet. Slowly, she reached out and pulled the zipper down. Fine organza, a circlet of pearls at the neckline.

“It’s a beautiful wedding dress.” Her mother stood close to her.

“I’m sorry I can’t take it back, Mom. If they hadn’t altered it for me …”

“Hush,” said Marilyn. “We’re not taking it back.”

 

*****

The men of the Priority Unit gathered in their break room at 9:30 Monday morning and sat around the table with coffee.

“It was a .357 Magnum that killed Joey,” Nate said, tipping his chair back against the wall. “Not one of our weapons.”

“Not a current one, anyway,” Eddie agreed. They’d been issued new 45-caliber weapons the previous fall.

“We’d have it in the IBIS system if it were a current service revolver.” Harvey got up and poured himself another cup of coffee.

“But it could be a cop, or a former cop,” Jimmy said.

“It could be anyone,” Tony put in, his frustration showing in the tense lines of his face.

“You’re sure it was a .357, not a nine-millimeter?” Harvey asked.

“No, the grooves from the rifling are a one-in-fourteen twist,” Nate said. “And the width of the grooves matches a Smith and Wesson.”

“So what’s next?” Harvey asked.

Eddie consulted his notebook. “Tony, I want you to go back over to City Hall. This guy was really lucky if nobody saw him move the dummy or heard the shot.”

“Silencer,” Nate said.

“I don’t know, that’s pretty rare.” Eddie frowned and looked to Harvey.

“Let’s go over the timetable again.” Harvey sat down and placed his mug on the table. “They set up everything for the game. They were finished before noon. Joey called us at 11:47. Right, Eddie?”

“Right. Charlie Doran logged it.”

“Okay, and Joey was still at City Hall when he called. Maybe from the comptroller’s office. He used his cell phone, though, not the phone on the desk.”

“His phone was in his pocket when we found him,” Jimmy droned. “We’ve been over this five thousand times.”

“That’s how you find clues, Jim,” Harvey said patiently. “Sometimes you go over and over the facts, and suddenly you realize something doesn’t add up.”

“What, in this case?” Tony asked.

“Well, the M.E. said Joey had been dead at least an hour when he saw him, not more than two.” Harvey gazed around at the four of them.

“That puts the time of death between 11:35 and 12:35,” Eddie said, “but we know he made the phone call at 11:47.”

“Right,” Harvey agreed. “How many people were still in the building between 11:47 and 12:35?”

“The offices were all closed, and the setup crew went for lunch,” Nate said.

“There were two guys left there to make sure no one disturbed the game setup,” Tony corrected.

Nate shrugged. “Yeah, but we talked to them. They didn’t hear a thing.”

“And they were both in the lobby downstairs,” said Eddie. “They vouch for each other. They could see the door to the clerk’s office by looking down the hall. One of them could always see the elevators, or so they say.”

“But no one checked to see if everyone had left the second floor,” Harvey said slowly. “It would have been easy to move the dummy if everyone but the killer left the second floor.” He took a sip of his coffee.

Eddie flipped back through his notebook. “Let’s go out in the office. We’ve asked all the crew members who they ate lunch with. It’s in the computer.”

They shuffled from the break room to the office and clustered around Eddie’s desk.

“As far as I can see, everyone on the setup crew is accounted for during lunch. Emily Rood said she left at 11:45 and went home for lunch with her husband. He confirms it. Joey was still in the comptroller’s office when she left.”

“What about the judges?” Harvey asked. “They were over there looking at the setup before, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, the festival chairman gave them the tour, and Mayor Weymouth met them outside her office and went to look at the game preparations with them. But that was earlier. Between eleven and eleven-thirty.”

“And they all have alibis during lunch,” Nate added. “Even the mayor.”

Harvey smiled. “I can’t picture Jill Weymouth shooting Joey.”

“Well, I made them check, anyway,” Eddie said.

Harvey nodded. “You’re right. You have to check everyone.”

“Anybody could have walked in there,” Tony insisted. “There are two other doors, and a stairway.”

“I know,” Harvey agreed. “If we’d been detailed to set it up, we’d have posted a man outside the comptroller’s door and another at the clerk’s door. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.”

“And, as we all know,” Nate said with an air of significance, “if there’s one thing Captain Larson can’t abide, it’s sloppy work.”

Harvey smiled. “Okay, we’ve established that anyone could walk in off the street, slip past the two guards, go up the stairway, and kill Joey. But I don’t think Joey stayed there for forty-five minutes alone after he called me. Joey wasn’t one to skip lunch.”

“Right,” Eddie agreed. “I’m thinking he was dead by noon.”

Tony sighed. “And we were all chugging Pepsi and eating Subway sandwiches.”

“It was a nice funeral,” Jimmy said mournfully. “I can’t help wondering where Joey is now, though.”

“Don’t get all maudlin,” Tony snapped. “He was a nice guy.”

“Yeah, but—” Jimmy looked at Eddie and Harvey. “Are you guys having prayer today?”

“Sure,” Harvey said. “I’ll call upstairs and see if the chief has time. Want to join us?”

“Thanks,” Jimmy said. Nate and Tony said nothing.

Harvey went to his own desk to use the phone.

“Okay,” Eddie said. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute break. After that, here’s what we’re looking at today. I interviewed Debbie Higgins’s old boyfriend first thing this morning, and I got the feeling he still likes her. He claims he never met Joey, but Debbie told him on the phone she was seeing a detective. Says she called him all tearful the night after Joey was killed, and he came down to see her Thursday night.”

“Giving her a shoulder to cry on?” Tony asked cynically.

Eddie shrugged. “I’ve asked her sergeant to send her up here at 10:30 for another chat. Tony, you go back to City Hall and see if you can confirm that anyone else was in the building during the critical time. Nate, Jimmy, get those two guys who were supposedly guarding the game area. Lean on them a little. I know they’re not cops, and it wasn’t an official duty, but they ought to have taken it seriously. Meanwhile, the captain’s going to Yarmouth on another case.”

All eyes were on him.

“Harvey’s opened another case?” Tony asked suspiciously. “I thought we were all in this together until we got Joey’s killer.”

“It’s indirectly related,” Eddie explained. “Something that … came up during an interview. It needs to be checked out, but we don’t think it has a direct bearing on the murder case.”

The other three still stood there.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you more than that right now.”

 

*****

Jennifer, Beth, and Beth’s sister-in-law, Ruthann Bradley, were drinking tea in Beth’s kitchen when Leeanne got home from campus that afternoon. She came in the back door, laden with textbooks.

“Hi. Are you hungry?” Beth called.

“Starved. Hi, Ruthann. Hi, Jenn. What’s the occasion?”

Jennifer smiled. “Ruthann and I haven’t had a chance to get together in ages, so Beth called me when she came, and Connor and I rushed right over.”

Ruthann’s daughter Clarissa and her year-old son Ethan were playing with plastic blocks on the floor. Connor sat up in his infant seat, watching them with huge blue eyes.

“Connor loves having other kids around,” Beth observed.

“Hey, I heard you got a contract to write a book,” Ruthann said. “Congratulations, lady.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s going to be a challenge, but I think I’ll enjoy it.” Leeanne plucked a cookie from the serving plate on the table, and her eye fell on a lavish floral arrangement on the sideboard. “Hey, beautiful roses! Did Jeff spring for those?”

Beth laughed. “No, someone else did.” She leaned back in her chair and picked up an envelope from the counter. “Special delivery for Mademoiselle Leeanne Wainthrop.”

Amazement, hope, and wariness hit Leeanne at the same time. She examined the envelope carefully, and a smile spread slowly.

“I’m so glad I picked today to visit,” Ruthann said happily.

Leeanne pulled a small card from the envelope. Her smiled deepened as she read it.

“What’s it say?” Jennifer asked.

“Come on, Jenn, it’s personal,” Beth scolded.

Leeanne walked to the sideboard and touched one of the pure white roses. “Il est doux.”

“Très doux,” Jennifer agreed. “You’d better write him a thank-you note.”

Leeanne threw them all an apologetic smile. “Excusez-moi, s’il vous plait.” She picked up her books, drew one rose from the bouquet and headed for the stairs.

 

*****

Eddie’s pulse quickened when he saw Leeanne’s message. Merci, it was slugged. He clicked on it. Les fleurs sont si belles! Merci! J’espère te voir bientot! Leeanne.

He smiled.

“What’s so funny?” Tony asked.

Eddie jumped. “What? Nothing.”

Tony came and looked over his shoulder. Eddie closed the message, but not quickly enough.

“Leeanne, huh? I’m telling you, it’s not worth it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie said complacently.

“Don’t I? Like I said, I’m not getting married.”

“I predict you will eat those words someday.”

“I thought she threw the ring in your face.”

“It didn’t happen like that.”

“So now you’re sending chummy e-mails again.”

Eddie shrugged. “MYOB. If you have any B.”

Tony laughed and picked up a stack of folders from his desk. “I’ve been minding my own business, and yours, too, Shakespeare. I talked to both of the game guardians. They’re sorry they did such a lousy job, but they didn’t see or hear anything.”

“Just great.” Eddie leaned back in his swivel chair. “There was a lot of traffic outside City Hall that day. The crowd was starting to gather by noon.”

“Aw, not that early, I don’t think. We didn’t go over until one.”

“I wonder if they’d have heard a shot while a siren was blasting outside,” Eddie mused.

“He was dead by noon, you said so yourself, or at least by 12:35.”

“Check with Charlie Doran. Ask him if we had any units within a block of City Hall between 11:47 and 12:35. All we need is one siren.”

“Come on, you think the killer waited for a siren to muffle the sound?”

“I don’t know. If it was the Fourth of July, there would have been fireworks and nobody would have blinked, but it was Labor Day. No fireworks. No parade. But there was a lot of noise that morning, right? They did the public works thing between 9 and 11. People were watching the crews lay pipe.”

“That was all over by the time of the murder.”

“So what was going on then?”

“Lunch. Everybody was eating lunch. How many witnesses do we need to tell us that?”

“All we need is one to tell us something different.”

Tony scowled at him.