Mystery

things, didn’t have time to get all official with him—and like I said, he was barely here.”

“How’d you find him in the first place?”

“He found us,” she said. Leftward eye slide. Her lips vibrated. She’d never pass muster as a psychopath.

“How’d he find you?”

“Slipped his name and number under the door with a note saying he was looking for office work. He said he’d interviewed downstairs, someone told him we needed a gofer.”

“Who downstairs?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never verified.”

“We were busy. We thought we needed help. Once we got set up and he was already gone, we learned the computers could do everything a person could do except better. That’s the beauty of eBiz, you keep overhead to a minimum.”

“Bunch of smart kids, you and Rose and Brian,” he said. “Anyone else in the family involved?”

“Michael—our baby brother—did some Web design for us, he’s artistic, but that’s it.”

“Tell us everything you remember about Stefan Moore.”

“He was okay,” she said. “Polite, didn’t say much.”

I said, “He kept out of your way and you were busy so that was perfect.”

“Yes. You’re not saying he’s the one who … oh, God!”

Milo said, “What we’re saying is we’ve got a dead girl on our hands and ol’ Stefan was seen in her proximity the night she died. That makes him what we call a person of interest.”

Her head dropped again. “This is a shit-filled nightmare.”

“For Tara Sly it was a nightmare, for you it’s an inconvenience, Suki.”

She looked up, dark eyes blazing. “You don’t get what I’m saying. Any of this gets out and we’re complete and utter toast and it couldn’t come at a worse time.”

“Business is tough?”

“Just the opposite, business rocks. We’ve been fielding some serious buyout offers that could be huge, so please, please, please, don’t go public with any of this. Please.”

Milo said, “We’ll do our best, Suki. If you’ve told us everything you know.”

“I have! I swear to God!”

“Let’s go back to something Brian claimed: You don’t collect personal data on Sweeties once the initial criminal check comes back clean.”

Moment’s hesitation. “Basically … okay, we keep addresses and phone numbers, no reason not to. I’ll give you Mystery’s. Will that work for you?”

“Excellent, Suki. You’ll also give us her real name.”

“I would but I don’t know it.”

“Come on—”

“It’s true, I’m being totally honest with you now, I want to be honest, there’s no reason to hold back.”

“You do a criminal check but don’t probe for real names.”

“We go by what they tell us,” she said. “We’re not the FBI, we shouldn’t be expected to have … what do you call them—dossiers.”

He stared at her.

“I swear.”

“All right, Suki. Let’s have her address and phone number.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Click click click. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

“Blank space,” she said. “It’s been deleted.”

“By who?”

“No way to tell.”

“When?”

“Can’t tell you that, either.”

“Looks like your database is far from incorruptible. Better fix all that before the buyout offers are finalized.”

She shot us a crooked smile. “I’m going to be sick.” Announcing calmly as if introducing her next piece at a piano recital.

By the time she reached the door she was retching.

The bathroom she ran to was close enough for us to hear.

Truth in advertising.

uki Agajanian returned from the lav pasty-faced and hunched, limp hair tied in an unruly knot.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” she said, as if we’d expressed concern.

Milo said, “Now what else are you going to tell us?”

“I swear there’s nothing, guys. It’s not like I actually met her. Or him. To us they’re just names.”

We waited her out.

She said, “I swear.”

“One more question: Did anyone else named Suss log onto your site?”

She hesitated, threw up her hands, typed. “Negative.”

“What about Longellos?” He spelled it.

“Negative.”

“Okay, Suki, we’re leaving now but if we find out you held back on anything—”

“I haven’t,” she said. “That would be poor judgment and I’m known for good judgment. We’re going to button things down even tighter from now on, but no one ever accused any of us of being stupid.”

“Let’s hear it for the Agajanian kids,” he said.

“We’re achievers. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, I really need to get to those emails.”

We left her at her desk, texting with one hand, typing with the other. But before we reached the door to the hallway, she was running toward us, barefoot. “Could I ask you one thing—you don’t have to answer but I really need to ask. How’d you actually connect us with her? Tara. Whatever her real name is.”

“Just what we told you,” said Milo. “Anonymous tip.”

Ashen innocence gave way to a crafty smile. “C’mon, guys, really.”

“Really.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Who’d want to screw us like that? That’s totally sneaky and low.”

Milo said, “Anonymous tips are our bread and butter.”

“That’s so sad.”

“What is?”

“People messing with each other.”

He winked at her. “We love our job anyway.”

As we walked to the elevator, he said, “Truth is, I’ve been wondering about the tip myself, trying to figure out who else knew about any of this. With all the trouble Muhrmann and Tara and probably Connie Longellos took to cover their tracks, you’d think they wouldn’t confide in anyone else.”

I kept my voice even. “You’d think.”

In the car, he said, “Rich family, it’s all gonna boil down to mow-ney.”

I said, “How about this for a soap opera: Suss fell quickly into lust, started out paying Tara a monthly allowance, no big deal for someone with his net worth. Then he became emotionally involved and upped the stipend. With Stevie and Connie and Tara splitting the proceeds, that kind of progress was in everyone’s interest.