I’d seen Janes several times since then when he came into the library to pick up his daughter. And more than once I’d caught him watching me, a bemused look on his face. He didn’t look away and he didn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed at being caught.
“Would eight o’clock tomorrow morning work for you?” the woman with the lovely voice asked.
“Yes, it would. Thank you,” I said, relieved that she hadn’t asked me why I wanted the meeting. I got directions to Janes’s office, thanked her again and hung up.
Abigail and I were in the workroom, late that afternoon, opening the boxes of readers when Susan poked her head around the doorway. “Call for you, Kathleen,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, getting to my feet and brushing bits of paper and packing materials off my hands. I went into my office to answer the phone.
“Hello, Kathleen, it’s Simon Janes,” the voice on the other end said.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Janes,” I said, wondering why he’d called. Was he going to cancel our appointment or did he just want to know why I wanted to see him?”
Luckily, he got right to the point. “We have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow morning and I have to make an unplanned trip to Minneapolis.”
My heart sank.
“But if you’d like to join me for an early supper at the St. James Hotel we could talk then.”
I didn’t want to lose the chance to pick the man’s brain. “Yes, thank you. I would,” I said.
We agreed to meet at the hotel bar at five thirty. I didn’t doubt that Simon Janes had a meeting in Minneapolis, but I also suspected that changing the time and place of our meeting was a way for him to control it. That was fine with me. As Harrison Taylor would say, I’d been around the block a time or two and recognized the scenery.
I left the library at the same time I would have left if I’d been going home to have supper and change for tai chi class. I’d already sent Maggie a text letting her know I might miss class. I parked the truck on a side street near the hotel. I was early but as I walked into the hotel bar I discovered I wasn’t as early as Janes. He was leaning back in his seat at a small table in the center of the room, legs crossed. As I approached he got to his feet and pulled out the other chair for me.
“Hello, Kathleen,” he said. He was tall with a firm handshake and direct gaze, and once again I thought he didn’t look anywhere near old enough to be the parent of a seventeen-year-old.
Since he’d referred to me by my first name I did the same. “Hello, Simon,” I said as I sat down. “Thanks for fitting me into your schedule.”
He took the chair opposite me again. “When Mia’s working at the library I generally eat alone.” He shrugged. “I like my own company but sometimes it’s good to have someone else’s. I’ve heard all my stories.” He gave a practiced, self-deprecating smile.
“Well, I promise to listen attentively and nod and smile in the appropriate places.”
He laughed. “Then it should be a good meal.”
He turned his head and a waiter materialized beside us. He handed each of us a menu.
“Are you driving, Kathleen?” Simon asked.
I nodded.
“Sparkling water, then?”
“Please,” I said.
“Two please, Michael,” he said to the waiter.
The young man nodded. “Right away, sir.”
Simon leaned back in his chair, the menu untouched on the table in front of him. “How do you feel about pizza?” he asked.
“I like pizza,” I said.
I noticed he had a crescent-shaped scar that ran from the end of his right eyebrow to just below the eye. “Mia says that my habit of suggesting what to order when I’m with a woman is condescending and patriarchal. So I’m just going to say that they have great pizza here and would you like to share one? Of course you don’t have to say yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “I think that covers all the disclaimers.”
I couldn’t help smiling back at him. I’d seen his arrogance and I had no doubt that he could be condescending and patriarchal, but he could also be charming. “I’ve never had the pizza here,” I said, “but I’ve heard good things about it, so yes, let’s split one.”
Michael, the waiter, returned with our sparkling water. I squeezed a little lime into mine and took a drink while Simon relayed our order, taking the opportunity to study the man. He wasn’t wearing a tie, but his dark suit was expensive and expertly tailored. He was somewhere below six feet, rangy, with his hair buzzed close to his head. He certainly looked the part of the successful businessman but something about the way he carried himself made me think he’d started at the bottom. He reminded me of Burtis Chapman, I realized. I wouldn’t want either man for an enemy.
Once the waiter left Simon turned his attention to me. “So what do you want to ask me about first?” he said. “The Long Lake proposal or Ernie Kingsley?”
I think my mouth fell open in surprise. “How did you know?” I managed to get out.
“I knew this meeting had nothing to do with Mia,” he said. “I know she’s happy working for you and I’ve picked her up enough times to feel confident that you’re all happy with her.”
I nodded. “We are.”
“From what Mia’s told me the reading program is going well and you don’t have any papers with you, so you didn’t want to meet with me to hit me up for money.”
He’d approached our meeting the same way I might have. “You’re right again,” I said.
One forearm rested on the edge of the table. The other was on his leg. He didn’t have any fidgety tics that I’d picked up so far. “You and Detective Gordon are a couple.”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t say anything.
“He has a connection to the woman who was killed—the geologist with that environmental group.”
I nodded again. “They were friends in college.”
“You’re looking for information.”
The conversation was beginning to feel like a tennis match. Serve and volley. Serve and volley.
“Yes,” was all I said.
“So what? You think Ernie could have killed that woman?”
At least I wasn’t going to have to play any games. “I don’t know. I don’t know the man—he doesn’t have a library card. But you know him. What do you think?”
He laughed. “I don’t have a library card, either. Does that mean I’m flawed as a human being in your eyes?”
Out of the corner of my eyes I caught sight of our waiter, coming from the kitchen. “You’re generous when it’s a good cause, like Reading Buddies, but you don’t like to waste money. I don’t see that as a flaw. Also, you’re a big fan of Vin Diesel and you wanted to be a lawyer.”
I’d timed it perfectly. Michael arrived then with the pizza and our plates. Simon waited until we each had a slice before he spoke.
“Very good,” he said. “How did you do that?”
I took a bite of my pizza before I answered. It was good, with a thin, crispy crust, tomatoes, onions, salami, fresh herbs and wonderfully stringy mozzarella. “This is good,” I said.
Simon didn’t say anything but “I told you so” was written in the expression on his face.
I set my fork down. “So how do I know so much about you? I’m observant. You don’t have a library card, but you do borrow things on Mia’s card. You’ve watched every movie in the Fast and the Furious franchise more than once.”
“Maybe Mia’s the fan,” he said.
I shook my head. “She likes fantasy and Japanese anime. So it has to be you who likes Vin Diesel. You could have bought those movies or downloaded them but you didn’t. That would be a waste of money when you can borrow them for free. But you did give us money for Reading Buddies. That says you’re frugal but not cheap.”
“And law school?”
“Scott Turow and a lucky guess. You’ve read everything we have that he’s written and requested two books we didn’t have. And I know Mia wants to be a doctor.”