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You Don't Own Me by Mary Higgins Clark, Alafair Burke (25)

29

The maître d’ at Daniel led them to a quiet table in the back of the restaurant. Alex immediately ordered martinis for both of them.

Laurie smiled. “If I had known that the reward for seeing yet another horrible apartment was an impromptu dinner at Daniel with you, I would have asked Rhoda to stack our schedule with dumpy apartments weeks ago.”

It was Friday evening, and Timmy was spending the night at a friend’s slumber party. The four-bedroom apartment Rhoda had just shown them had a lot of potential—the right square footage, layout, and neighborhood. It was a good thing they had looked at it after work, though, because they were halfway through the viewing when the couple upstairs came home. Through the air vents, Laurie, Alex, and Rhoda had heard Trina accusing Mark of lying, that he had not been at a conference in Denver, but in Atlantic City with his secretary. They were treated to Mark’s multiple protests to the contrary and Trina’s response: “It was my hard luck to have married you.”

“With the way sound travels in this building, can you imagine the reaction we’d get if Timmy were to practice his trumpet?” Laurie had asked Rhoda.

She flicked away a lock of hair that had fallen on Alex’s forehead. “Please tell me we’ll never be like Mark and Trina,” Laurie said.

“Don’t worry. I can’t stand Atlantic City!” Alex said, laughing.

Laurie pretended to ball up her napkin and throw it at him.

The waiter arrived with martinis and menus. Once they were alone again, they clinked glasses. “To never being those people,” Laurie said firmly before taking a quick sip of her cocktail. “And now let’s forget them.”

“Amen,” Alex agreed. “And of much greater importance, I heard back from Senator Longfellow’s assistant. After I made clear that the show would go on with or without him, he said you can have half an hour with him and Leigh Ann this Tuesday afternoon. He insisted that you interview them together, until I pointed out that any journalist would be skeptical of information given under those conditions. He hemmed and hawed but finally agreed that they will speak to you separately.”

“Good job, Your Honor.”

“No cameras, though, and he wants you to come to their apartment so no one happens to spot you at his office and starts asking questions. He was adamant that you bring no more than one other member of your staff so it doesn’t turn into a circus.”

“I can live with that,” Laurie said.

“He should only know that if you give Laurie Moran thirty minutes, she’ll hook you in until you’ve spilled your guts.”

“We’ll see.” She lowered her voice to be sure no one around them could overhear. “Even if Martin Bell and Leigh Ann were having an affair, it’s hard to picture Senator Daniel Longfellow as a murderer. After all, if the affair had been discovered, he would have been the aggrieved partner in the marriage. If anything, voters would have sympathized with him. And he’d be one more available bachelor in Washington.”

“Not to mention, they have no children,” Alex noted. “He could simply have gotten divorced and moved on.”

Laurie shook her head. “No motive, no warning signs of violence. I just don’t see it. What I can see, however, is a jealous and resentful Kendra Bell hiring a hit man over drinks at a dive bar in the East Village, then slipping him fifties and hundreds that had been tucked away in sock drawers. I can picture her paying him—even now—to remain silent, ever conscious of her in-laws’ desire to put her in prison and take her children from her.”

She tried to put away the image. She felt as though she’d been working nonstop all week, and she didn’t want to think about Martin and Kendra Bell anymore tonight. She took two more quick sips from her glass while she pondered the menu options. Before she knew it, she was thinking aloud about something entirely different. “Maybe Timmy and I should just move in with you. You have plenty of room.”

Alex set down his menu, clearly surprised by her comment. “Except it’s too far from your father’s apartment and from Timmy’s school. And besides, it would feel like my space, not ours. You were the one who felt strongly about that.”

“I also feel strongly that I’m already exhausted from looking at real estate. None of these places could ever feel like home.”

“We’ll know the right spot when we see it,” he said.

“And we still need to set a date and book a space and make all the arrangements for the wedding. Alex, I’m worried that I might have been selfish when I’ve said I prefer a small wedding. I’m not sure I ever asked what you want. Would you like a big wedding?”

“Good God no.”

“What do you really want?”

“I want the shortest distance between two points.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I want whichever plan has us married and living under the same roof the fastest. That will make me happy.”

He paused then added, “Laurie, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and I know what I want. A quiet church ceremony with our families and close friends in attendance, followed by a festive dinner. Let’s target mid to late August. The courts are in recess. It will give you time to adjust your work schedule. If we can work it out, a honeymoon right after.”

Laurie smiled. “Wow! You have given this a lot of thought!”

Returning her smile, Alex said, “I’ve told you what I want. How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect.” And it would be perfect. She knew it. For so long she had been sure that after Greg there would be no one. That had been true until she met Alex nearly two years ago. Now in a mere five months she would marry her second and last great love.

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