She met his eyes. “The woman in black. Al knocked me down and I looked up and saw this woman, all in black, with lace over her face. She stared at me. Then she was gone, into the crowd.”
“Why didn’t you mention her before?”
“I thought she was a mourner. I thought Kate had shot Gretchen, that the police had shot Kate.”
“Can you describe this woman in black?”
Susannah puffed out her cheeks. “She was very tall. There were people all around her, but she just stood there, like a little pocket of… calm. I don’t know how long she stared at me. It couldn’t have been more than a second or two. It was surreal. Oh, and she had red lips. I saw the red through the lace. Her dress was long. Old. I thought she was old. Creepy.” She closed her eyes, visualizing the scene, the frenzied movement around the woman who’d stood still as a statue. “She was wearing a cape, edged in black fur. She looked like someone from an old photo.”
“What about her shoes?” Chase asked.
“Blue.” She opened her eyes and looked up. “She had on blue running shoes. Her dress stopped above her ankles, like it was too short for her.”
“Or him?” Luke asked.
“Bobby,” she murmured. “Or Rocky. Oh, hell. Who is Bobby?”
“Round puzzle,” Luke muttered.
Chase nodded grimly. “All yellow.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Susannah demanded. “Goddammit.”
Luke sighed. “It means that every time we peel away a layer, the onion sprouts a new one. You’re covered in blood again. I’m taking you back to your hotel.”
“I’ll go back up to ICU and get my things.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She started to tell him he didn’t need to babysit her, then thought of Gretchen and Jennifer and bit back the words. Maybe he did.
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 6:30 p.m.
“Is it true?” Nurse Ella demanded. “Is Jennifer dead?”
Monica’s mind tensed, waiting for the answer.
“I’m afraid so.” Susannah’s voice. “She was shot outside a few minutes ago.”
Oh, God. Jennifer tried to keep me alive and now she’s dead.
She felt a touch on her hand. “It’s Susannah. I have to leave, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning. I wish you’d wake up. There are so many things we need to know.”
I am awake. Dammit, I am awake. Frustration bubbled up and over, then stilled when she felt warmth near her face. Lips. Susannah pressed her lips to Monica’s forehead and her frustration mixed with a longing so strong it hurt her chest.
“Sleep,” Susannah murmured. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
No. Monica wanted to scream it. Don’t go. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave me.
But Susannah was gone.
Hot tears trickled from Monica’s eyes down her temples where they dried, unnoticed.
Susannah came out of M. Jane Doe’s room to find Luke had been watching her, his black eyes intense. She felt her cheeks heat. “She’s just a kid. She must be scared.”
He cupped her cheek, his palm warm and solid, and for a moment she again let herself lean into him. “You’re a good person,” he murmured. “You know that, don’t you?”
Her throat tightened. When he said it, she almost believed it. She pulled away, her whole body tense, her smile plastic. “You’re kind.”
Luke drew a frustrated breath and let it out. They rode down in the elevator and walked to Luke’s car in silence. When they were both buckled in, he looked straight ahead. “I promised Daniel I would watch over you. I can do that at your hotel or my apartment. I won’t ask anything except that you let me keep my promise to Daniel.”
She was disappointed, she realized. Which was petty and small… and human. What woman wouldn’t want a man like Luke in pursuit? But he’d given up. So easily.
You told him to. Don’t be snide because he listened. Still, she was disappointed. And too tired to argue. “If we go to your apartment, where will I sleep?”
“In my room. I’ll take the sofa.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 6:45 p.m.
“Are they gone?” Bobby asked when Tanner got back into the car.
“Finally.” He handed the DRC plates across the front seat. “I changed the plates. Now I’m George Bentley if anyone stops us. Did you have fun?”
“Oh yes,” Bobby said emphatically. “I’m glad you got back from Savannah in time to drive me. It would have been too hard to hit Oh-man’s chest from the driver’s side.”
“So, back to Ridgefield House?”
“Not yet. I got another report from my mole. GBI is closing in on Jersey Jameson. Apparently Daniel Vartanian saw a piece of his boat registration number on Friday.”
“So where do we find Mr. Jameson?” Tanner asked.
“I know some of the places he hangs. You ready to do a little pub crawling?”
Tanner laughed. “It’ll be like old times.”
“Those were the days. You’d find the marks, I’d go in for the lure. Some of those guys still pay me, cash deposits to my offshore account on the first of every month.”
“You were a good whore, Bobby.”
“You were good at finding clients who’d pay to keep their perversions secret. I miss those days.”
“We could pick up. Go somewhere else. Start over again.”
“We could, but I like my life now. Once everything dies down, I still want that house on the hill. It’s mine.”
“Arthur Vartanian will have left it to his legitimate children, Bobby.”
“But I have a legal claim. And soon his legitimate children will be resting alongside the judge and his bitch of a wife.” The words left a bad taste in the mouth.
“Well, when that happens,” Tanner said mildly, “you know what I want.”
“Grandmother Vartanian’s silver tea service.” Bobby chuckled. “Yes, I know.”
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 7:15 p.m.
“It’s nice,” Susannah said, looking around Luke’s apartment.
“It’s clean, thanks to my…” The thought trailed when he saw his dining room table, covered in a white linen cloth and set for two. He didn’t need a second look to know the china was his mother’s, as was the ornate silver candelabra that stood, ready to light.
Susannah was looking at the table, one side of her mouth turned up. “Your mother?”
“Yeah.”
Susannah smiled wistfully. “She nearly smothered Daniel with a hug. I like her.”
“Everybody likes my mother.”
“What about your father?”
“Oh, she smothers him with hugs, too,” he said wryly. “Pop has a restaurant with his brothers. Greek, of course. In the old days, Mama was head chef. Now my cousins take care of the daily stuff. Leaves my dad and my uncles time to finally enjoy life, but Mama misses it. She makes up for it by cooking for all my friends.” From his closet he pulled the suit from the day before and gave it a sniff. “Barely a hint of smoke and rotting fish.”
“Your dry cleaner delivers inside your apartment?”
“My dry cleaner is my cousin Johnny. He has a key. I get free delivery, he gets to watch the fights on my flatscreen when they’re on pay per view.”
“I wonder if he can get those red clay stains out of Chloe Hathaway’s black dress.”
“If Johnny can’t, nobody can.” His stomach growled and he rubbed it. “I’m starving.”
“So am I.” She hesitated. “I can cook. A little.”
“Mama said she left food in the fridge.” He went into the kitchen and she followed.
“Can I do anything?”
“Change your clothes.” He shot her a smile as he opened the fridge door. “Again.”
She looked down at her blood-spattered shirt. “I’ll be back.”