you like me to?”
“You weren’t there. If you’d been there, it might have been different.”
“I’m here now. Would you like to see me?”
“Can’t.” She heard the deep, gulping sob. “You’d know.”
“I can come to you. Why don’t you tell me your name and where you are?” She heard the click.
Less than a block away, the man in the dark coat leaned against the pay phone and wept in pain and confusion.
“Damn.” Tess glanced down at the notes she’d made of the conversation. If he’d been a patient, she hadn’t recognized his voice. On the off chance that the phone would ring again, she stayed another fifteen minutes, then gathered up her work and left the office.
Frank Fuller was waiting in the hall. -
“Well, there she is.” He slipped his breath spray back into his pocket. “I was beginning to think you’d moved out of the building.”
Tess glanced back at her door. Her name and profession were neatly printed on it. “No, not yet. Working a bit late tonight, Frank?”
“Oh, you know how it goes.” Actually, he’d spent the last hour trying to drum up a date. He hadn’t been successful. “Apparently this police-consultant business has kept you pretty tied up.”
“Apparently.” Even for someone whose manners were as ingrained as Tess’s, small talk after the day she’d put in was stretching things. Her thoughts drifted back to the phone call as she waited for the elevator.
“You know, Tess…” He used his old trick of resting his hand against the wall and surrounding her. “You might find it beneficial, professionally speaking, to consult with a colleague on this. I’d be glad to make some room on my calendar.”
“I appreciate that, Frank, but I know how busy you are.” When the elevator doors slid open, she stepped inside. She pressed the button for the ground floor and shifted her briefcase as he stepped in beside her.
“Never too busy for you, Tess, professionally or otherwise. Why don’t we discuss it over drinks?”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss it at all.”
“We can find something else to discuss then. I have this bottle of wine, a cocky little Zinfandel I’ve been saving for the right occasion. Why don’t we go back to my place, pop the cork, and put up our feet?”
So he could start nibbling her toes, Tess thought, and sent up a quiet prayer of thanksgiving when the doors opened again. “No thanks, Frank.”
She made tracks across the lobby, but didn’t shake him.
“Why don’t we stop in at the Mayflower, then, a quiet drink, a little music, and no shop talk?”
Champagne cocktails at the Mayflower. Ben had told her that was her style. Perhaps it was time to prove to him, and Frank Fuller, that it wasn’t. “The Mayflowers a bit staid for my taste, Frank.” She flipped up her collar as they stepped into the chilly darkness of the parking lot. “But in any case, I haven’t the time for socializing. You should try that new club around the corner, Zeedo’s. From what I hear, it’s almost impossible not to score if you dig in for the evening.” She pulled out her keys and slipped one into the lock of her car door.
“How do you know about-”
“Frank.” She clucked her tongue then patted his cheek. “Grow up.” Delighted with herself and his astounded expression, she slid into the car. She glanced over her shoulder as she reversed, but barely spared a glance at the man standing in the shadows at the edge of the lot.
She’d hardly gotten through the door and shed her coat and shoes, when someone knocked. If it was Frank, she’d stop being polite, Tess promised herself, and give it to him right between the eyes.
Senator Jonathan Writemore stood in his Saville Row overcoat, holding a red cardboard box of chicken and a slim paper bag.
“Grandpa.” Most of the tension Tess hadn’t been aware of having slipped away. She drew a deep breath and all but tasted the spices. “I hope you’re not on your way to a hot date.”
“I’m on my way right here.” He dropped the box of chicken into her hands. “It’s still hot, little girl. I got extra spicy.”
“My hero. I was about to fix myself a cheese sandwich.”
“Figures. Get the plates, and plenty of napkins.”
She slipped into the kitchen, setting the chicken on the table as she went by. “Does this mean I’m not invited to dinner tomorrow?”
“This means you eat two decent meals this week. Don’t forget the corkscrew. I have a bottle of wine here.”
“As long as its not Zinfandel.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Tess returned carrying plates, linen napkins, two of her best wineglasses, and a corkscrew. She set the table, lit the candles, then turned to give her grandfather a bear hug. “I’m so glad to see you. How did you know I needed a boost tonight?”
“Grandfathers are born knowing.” He kissed both her cheeks, then scowled at her. “You’re not getting enough rest.”
“I’m the doctor.”
He gave her a swat on the rear. “Just sit down, little girl.” He turned his attention to the wine bottle when she obeyed. Tess lifted the lid while he dealt with the cork. “Give me one of those chicken tits.”
She giggled like a girl, and placed the fast food on her mother’s best English bone china. “Think how shocked your constituents would be if they heard you talking about chicken tits.” She chose a drumstick and was delighted to discover a box of fries. “How’s the Senate business?”
“It takes a lot of shit to grow flowers, Tess.” He drew the cork. “I’m still lobbying to get the Medicaid Reform bill passed. I don’t know if I can pull off enough support before we adjourn for the holidays.”
“It’s a good bill. It makes me proud of you.”
“Flatterer.” He poured her wine, then his own. “Where’s the ketchup? Can’t eat fries without ketchup. No, don’t get up, I’ll get it. When’s the last time you’ve been to the store?” he asked the minute he opened the refrigerator.
“Don’t start,” she said, and took a bite of chicken. “Besides, you know I’m the expert on takeout and eat- ins.”
“I don’t like to think of my only granddaughter forever eating out of a carton.” He came back in with a bottle of ketchup, easily ignoring the fact that they were both eating out of a carton. “If I wasn’t here, you’d be over at that desk with a cheese sandwich and a stack of files.”
“Did I say I was glad to see you?” Tess lifted her wineglass and smiled at him.
“You’re overworking.”
“Maybe.”
“How about I buy two tickets for Saint Croix and we take off the day after Christmas? Have ourselves a week of fun in the sun.”
“You know I’d love to, but the holidays are the roughest on some of my patients. I have to be here for them.”
“I’ve been having second thoughts.”
“You?” Bypassing the ketchup, she began to nibble on fries and wondered if she had room for a second piece of chicken. “About what?”
“Getting you involved with these homicides. You’re looking worn out.”
“It’s only partly that.”
“Having a problem with your sex life?”
“Privileged information.”
“Seriously, Tess, I’ve spoken with the mayor. He’s told me how involved you are with the police investigation. All I had in mind was the profile, maybe showing off my smart granddaughter a bit.”
“Vicarious thrills, huh?”
“The thrill takes on a different complexion after the fourth murder. Only two blocks from here.”
“Grandpa, that would have happened whether I was involved with the investigation or not. The point now is, I want to be involved.” She thought of Ben, his accusations, his resentment. She thought of her own well-ordered life
