“There’s Milk-Bones for the boy, too. So. You got dinner, and you’re safe inside. Don’t answer the door, not for anything or anybody. If the doorbell rings, call 911 right away. Don’t even worry if it’s a false alarm, call them anyway. Then call me.”
“Where will you be?”
“I’ll stay here awhile, and when I’m sure it’s okay, I’ll go home. I want you to eat well, go to sleep, safe until the morning. Call me when you get up, and we’ll start over.”
Bennie swallowed. So that was it? Okay, of course that was it. Right? They hardly knew each other. What did she think was going to happen? “David, what’s going to happen?”
“You’re going to get through this. We’re going to catch Alice. And it will all be over.”
“And then?”
“I’ll come over and you’ll make me coffee. And I’ll stay. If you want.”
Bennie felt her toes curl. “I think I want. I mean, I definitely want.”
“Hold that thought. And tell me good night.”
“Good night, David,” Bennie said, with more regret than she wanted to admit.
30
Bennie felt refreshed and energized when she got off the elevator on her floor. She’d slept like a baby, she’d eaten a provolone hoagie for breakfast, and she was a little in love with her surveillance, who had ensured her safety all the way into work.
She strode through the reception area in a crisp un-Bennie-like suit of pressed white linen. She’d slicked her blond hair into a neat French twist and she’d even smeared on pink lip gloss and brownish eyeliner. She carried her purse, her briefcase, and a box of Krispy Kremes. She was feeling excellent, especially for a murder target. In life, you have to take the bad with the good.
“What’s up with you, girl?” Marshall asked with a smile, getting up slowly from behind the reception desk, in a bright yellow maternity dress. At her size, it looked roughly like the sun rising at dawn.
“Marshall, are you feeling okay?” she asked, vaguely alarmed. I mean, you’re a planet.
“I’m fine. The doctor says everything is okay, and I should keep coming to work, that the activity is good for me and the baby. Here’s your mail and a hand delivery from Sam.” Marshall handed Bennie a huge stack of messages and mail. “Enough about me, let’s talk about you. What are you so happy about? Are you wearing makeup?”
“It’s my disguise. I’m back in control of my life, Marshall. Ain’t nobody happy if Mama ain’t happy.”
“Huh?”
“You never heard that? I’m fighting back, and finally winning.” Bennie skipped through the phone messages, reading them aloud. “Sam, Julien, reporter, reporter, CoreMed-whoever that is-and DiNunzio, good. What’s new with DiNunzio?”
“She thinks she’ll finish today, at the library in Washington. She’s coming home a day early, on an afternoon train.”
“Good.” Bennie looked at the last message. “Mort Abrams,” she said, and did a double take. “Abrams? That’s very exciting. They’re all very exciting. And it’s time to celebrate.” She touched Marshall on the shoulder. “Come into my office. We’re having a little party.”
“We are?”
“Yep.” Bennie charged ahead, bearing her tray of hot glazed doughnuts, and she knew the smell would waft through the office and work its Krispy Kreme magic. “Carrier! Murphy! Breakfast in my office! I’ve been cooking all morning!”
“Huh? What?” Heads popped out of their offices, and the associates hurried after Bennie and Marshall. They all piled in, making hot coffee and passing around steamy doughnuts stuck to plates of legal pads. In no time, fresh coffee and hot pastry scented the room and they all gathered around the conference table with hot mugs and sugar highs.
Bennie raised her mug of coffee. “A toast to you, ladies. To your faith and hard work, and to DiNunzio, who will be home tonight! Our wonderful news is that Rosato amp; Associates is back in business! Julien St. Amien intends to continue the class action!”
“Yes!” Carrier said, setting down her coffee to throw her arms into the air, signaling a touchdown. She had on her favorite denim smock, with a hot pink T-shirt that matched her hair. “That’s so great!”
“Yeah!” Murphy hollered beside her. She cut her usual curvy figure in a tan jersey that skimmed her skinny knees, and her hair swung long and free. She butter-churned her way across the room, shaking her cute tan butt. “Awesome!”
“Go, us!” Marshall clapped from her seat at the table, and Bennie raised a hand.
“Marshall, please don’t explode,” she said, and everyone laughed, applauding and boogying. When they finally settled down, Bennie filled in the details, including her trip to see the suspect at the Roundhouse and Julien’s decision to become a solo practitioner. Somehow Julien was what they wanted to talk about first. “I’m having him over, so you can show him what you do and talk him out of wanting to do it.”
“We can’t do that,” Carrier said, munching a doughnut. “We love it too much here. Every friggin’ minute.”
Murphy laughed. “Yeah. We can’t get enough, now that the long distance is back on.”
Bennie smiled, despite herself, and Marshall said, “Can I go back to work, Bennie? Somebody has to.”
“Sure, thanks. You gonna be okay to walk there? You need a hand?”
“More like a chairlift,” Marshall mumbled as she waddled out of the office.
Bennie clapped her hands together. “Okay, moving right along, we do have other business to attend to this morning. The cops have a suspect in Robert’s murder, which I think is totally bogus.”
“I have a question,” Murphy said, her lovely face turning grave. “What happened to you last night, Bennie? I saw you on TV, bitching out the reporters.”
“I’m back on the sauce.”
Murphy raised a perfectly groomed brow. “This could be the only explanation for your eyeliner.”
“A for effort?”
“No. Anything more from Alice? I got you a hearing for next week.”
“I’ll take it. Meantime, no more break-ins, lots of new locks, and David surveilled the street last night and this morning.”
“That working out okay with him?”
“Good as can be expected,” Bennie answered. She suppressed: He food-shopped for me and I think I’m in lust. The kids didn’t have to know everything about Mommy and Daddy.
“Boss,” Carrier broke in, barely able to contain herself. “I did some research last night on Linette.”
“You did?” Bennie asked, surprised. It was what she had been going to call the associate about before David stopped her. “What did you learn?”
“I found out he lives in a town house in Society Hill, on Delancey. I have the address in my office. It’s one of those huge ones.”
“Really.” It would have been Bennie’s first question last night. Perhaps the world could turn without her. “Good for you, Carrier.”
“But wait, there’s more. What we want to know is what Linette was doing the night of the murder, assuming he didn’t hire anyone to kill Robert.” Carrier barely took a breath before answering her own question. “Dinner ended before nine, according to Abrams, and at that hour there are two basic possibilities for most lawyers in America. Back to the office, or give it up and go home.”
Bennie smiled.
“Now. We know that Linette didn’t go back to the office, because of what Murphy learned from the sign-in log at his building. So let’s give this jerk the benefit of the doubt and say that he intended to go back to the office, but changed his mind and went home instead.” Carrier’s voice took on a logical cadence. “Now, to get to his house from the Palm, it’s about ten blocks. We know he didn’t have a car, Abrams told us that. That means Linette could walk, go by bus, or take a cab.”