“Secure line. I think you were apologizing? Poorly?”
“Okay, I thought maybe you were involved. But I didn’t think you’d sent Marina after me. Marina pointed the gun at me ’cause I was following her. She wasn’t hired to do that. I just didn’t know how you fit in. And I didn’t want to ask you. So I kept investigating. Once I knew how you were involved, I would have told you.” Simone tossed what was left of her cigarette into the ocean. It cartwheeled into the water, one end leaving a trail of sparks like blood splatter.
“Instead of asking.”
“Yeah. That was the dumb part.”
“In case I was involved in something bad.”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t want me to lie to you about it.”
“Yeah.”
Simone could hear Caroline typing something. She took a long sip of the coffee. It tasted bitter and chalky.
“I got your straws,” Caroline said after a moment.
“Did you like them?”
“It’s a lot of straws.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m still pissed.”
“Yeah,” Simone said, closing her eyes. She waited for Caroline to hang up. She didn’t.
“So do you know where my painting is? My parents are asking.”
“Your painting?” Simone asked. The sun felt a little brighter on her neck.
“Yeah. We won the auction. Marina said she’d get me the painting as soon as it was recovered, but I guess one of the losers didn’t like being a loser and went after it themselves.”
“You won the auction?” Simone said.
“That’s what Marina said.”
“Sorenson told me he won the painting. In front of Marina. She said he won it.”
“That bitch,” Caroline said.
Simone let the silence hang intentionally this time, and smiled. “I know you’re not my biggest fan right now,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“But maybe you want to tag along when I go visit her?”
“Are you asking me along to watch you interrogate someone I’m angry at in an attempt to repair our friendship?”
“That is exactly what I’m doing.”
“Will you let me hit her?”
“If the opportunity presents itself.”
“Okay. But it’s going to take more than this and some straws.”
“Can I swing by your office? We’ll head over together?”
“Sure. I want to hear all about this case, though. Every tiny detail.”
“I will. I trust you.”
“No you don’t.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
DANNY WAS IN COSTUME by the time she got back to his place.
“Thanks for letting me crash here,” Simone said.
“Going somewhere?” Danny asked, adjusting his turban.
“I got a lead. Caroline and I are going to check it out.”
“Caroline?”
“Yeah, and if you say the word trust I’m going to hit you.” Simone checked her pockets and under the sofa, making sure she had everything. “Caroline is still pissed, but I got my foot in the door, and I’m going to fix this. And solve my case.”
“Busy morning,” Danny said, sounding impressed. “Weren’t you going to tell me what this case is about?”
“Rain check—later, with beer or whatever.” She stood and turned back to look at Danny in his ridiculous pajamas. The feather in his turban bobbed like a buoy. “I promise. Thanks again. I’ll let you know how it turns out.”
“Call me if you need me.” Simone dashed out the door, her coat tight around her, and headed for City Hall.
THE FLOATING PLAZA AROUND City Hall was busier during the day: tourists from the mainland shooting photos, people on smoke breaks by the fountain, and a row of black yachts docked across from the plaza, their bows dipping like praying monks, with a line of drivers standing in front of them like guards. She walked past them into the building, flashed her IRID at the guards, and headed up. She wasn’t a familiar enough face that guards and secretaries stopped to chat with her, but she visited often enough that they knew who she was and that she was allowed in the building.
Caroline’s senior secretary glanced up at Simone when she stepped out of the elevator, then back down at her touchdesk, her mouth a thin line of worry at the prospect of an unscheduled appointment. “I don’t have you on the calendar, but I’ll let Ms. Khan know you’re here. She’ll be out soon, I’m sure.” She picked up the phone and told Caroline that Simone was waiting, then nodded and hung up. “She’s just finishing up a conference call with the mainland.” The secretary leaned forward conspiratorially, clearly excited to have someone new to gossip with. “Some big project they want to do, all very secret. Do you have any guesses?” Simone raised her eyebrows, which the secretary took as a cue to continue. “I think maybe they want to start a whale farm out here. Just think how great that would be.” This was more insight into the mind of Caroline’s secretary than Simone wanted. Thankfully, at that moment, the office door sprang open, and Caroline beckoned wordlessly from inside. Simone shrugged at the secretary and followed Caroline into her office, closing the door behind her.
“So, before we head over to the Four Seasons, you’re going to tell me everything,” Caroline said, leaning back on her desk and closing her arms. She was wearing a gray suit with a white collared shirt. Her mood wasn’t as good as Simone had hoped. She had thought—optimistically, apparently—that by telling Caroline about Danny’s gaffe, they’d be on the road to reconciliation. She wasn’t so sure now.
“Okay,” Simone said. “Can I sit?”
Caroline nodded at one of the chairs in front of her desk. “And if you leave anything out or lie, I will know, and that will be it. I am offering you a do-over. I’m letting you talk to me like you should have talked to me from day one.”
“Okay,” Simone said again, sitting gingerly.
“And you should say ‘thank you’ for that.”
“Thanks,” Simone said, somewhat flatly. Caroline raised her eyebrows, then spun around and went to sit behind her desk.
“From the beginning.”
Simone told her everything, from the case Linnea had hired her for, to the first murder, to Linnea’s body showing up in her office. She found it was easy once she got started—easier than her usual routine of glossing over the truths of her work, withholding information. Caroline watched and listened, her feet up on the desk, her face rarely betraying anything besides interest.
“A map.” Caroline said when Simone had finished. She stood and looked out her window. “I thought it was just some art for the foundation. I didn’t know… My parents are nuts, you know that, right?” She turned back and looked at Simone, and for a moment, Simone felt hopeful—Caroline was talking to her. Was complaining about her parents, like she used to. But then Caroline seemed to realize this too, and her mouth became a straight line again. She sat back down at her desk, her back straight, her movements all mathematical, hard geometry. “Why stay on the case?” Caroline asked, after a moment. “When Kluren told you to quit and your client disappeared? Why keep digging?”
“Kluren was fitting me for a prison jumpsuit.”
“Bullshit. Kluren may not like you, but she’s a good cop, religiously by the book, and you know it. She wouldn’t have locked you up without cause. Why did you keep digging?”
Simone looked down, and her hat fell off her head onto the floor. She stared at it a minute, her now loose hair partially obscuring her vision.
“You were involved,” she said after a minute.
“I was involved? So what, you wanted to make sure I wasn’t secretly a criminal mastermind?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The hat had fallen at an angle, but with the rim up, so she could look into the hat and its black lining, where a few of her hairs had curled like red ink, words in calligraphy so fancy she couldn’t read it. She heard Caroline get up from behind her desk, and looked up at her. Caroline was looking out the window.