“It’s bad,” I told Evelyn. “Wolf’s beside himself.”
“What about you?” she asked, keeping her tone casual. She knew my past; I could handle strangers’ deaths. I was less emotionally equipped for the deaths of people I knew. “Are you holding up all right?”
“I can’t wrap my head around it.” We stepped into the elevator and rode down to the lobby. “He was alive last night. A few hours ago. Everything changes so fast.”
“But you’re okay?” Evelyn pressed. She kept a hand in the door to make sure it wouldn’t close on me as I exited. “Do you feel, I don’t know—”
“Ev, there’s a difference between my mother being murdered and a guy I just met killing himself,” I told her. “I’m not going to lose myself like last time.”
She grumbled under her breath. “You can’t blame me for asking. They’re both traumatic experiences.”
I hugged her around the waist and leaned my head on her shoulder. “Thanks for checking in. I appreciate it—”
“Where is Wolf Godfrey?” a shrill voice demanded. “I need to see him at once!”
A woman stood at the front desk, drilling her finger into the counter with such force that Janine had backed away from the computer. The woman’s pudgy cheeks did not match her pointed nose or her angled eyebrows. She wore a deep purple sweater dress that conformed to every curve of her body, but she was strangely shaped. The material pulled around her shoulders and belly but hung loosely at her hips and bust. Her deep shade of lipstick made her mouth seem as if it protruded too far from the rest of her face, while a pair of dangling earrings with huge emeralds—fake, probably—stretched her earlobes to her shoulders.
“I’m afraid no one is allowed access to the penthouse at the moment,” Janine stammered. “We have a situation.”
“I know the situation,” the woman snapped. “That’s why I’m here. Find someone to take me to see Godfrey.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, miss,” Janine said. “The police were very clear. I’m not to let anyone up—”
The woman swung her arm around like a softball pitcher and slammed her large designer purse—also fake—on the front desk. Janine jumped like a scared mouse.
“Listen here,” the woman uttered in a menacing whisper. “You will allow me access to the penthouse, or you will find yourself regretting it—”
Evelyn, who I should have known would step in, inserted herself between the woman in purple and Janine. She removed the woman’s purse from the front desk and handed it back to her.
“I believe Janine said she’s not able to accommodate you at the moment,” Evelyn said, polite but tight. “Perhaps you should come back later.”
The woman sneered up at Evelyn. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”
Evelyn smirked. I knew that smirk. It was the one she wore when she was thinking about knocking someone out with a single punch.
“Someone who respects hotel staff,” Evelyn replied. “Run along, now.”
The woman drew herself up to her full height, but she had no hopes of reaching Evelyn’s eye level. “My husband died last night. I have every right to speak to his father. How about you run along now?”
Evelyn faltered for the first time in her life, losing her composure to check mine. My jaw had unhinged.
“Your husband?” I asked. “Are you talking about Jonathan Godfrey?”
The woman’s attention shifted to me. “That’s right. I’m Pearl Godfrey, Jonathan’s wife.”
“His w-wife?” I stammered.
Pearl crossed her arms, looking between me and Evelyn. “I’m sorry. Who are the two of you? Did you know my husband?”
My mouth moved but refused to form words. Evelyn, at a loss for words herself, elbowed me in the ribs. A small squeak left my lungs as my brain restarted.
“Uh, no, not really,” I said hastily. “We’re here for a wedding. I happened to meet Wolf and Jonathan a few times.”
Pearl caught my hands in hers. Her fingers were cold and clammy. “If you met Jonathan, even once, you already know the kind of man he was. Please, all I want is to see my husband before they cart him off to the morgue. Can you help?”
“No, I—if the police don’t want anyone up there—”
“Didn’t they question you?” Janine asked me, oblivious to my attempted lies. “I’m sure you could take Mrs. Godfrey up to the penthouse without an issue.”
I glared at Janine as Pearl squeezed my hands tighter.
“Please,” she begged. “Please take me to see my husband.”
Trapped between Janine and Pearl, I could do nothing but nod. Pearl sighed with relief as Janine handed over a keycard for us to access the penthouse. Evelyn caught my elbow before I could follow Pearl to the elevators.
“Are you sure about this?” she muttered. “I don’t think you should get involved.”
“I don’t exactly have a choice,” I said. “Wait for me?”
She nodded, and I joined Pearl in the elevator. She flashed the keycard and pressed the button for the penthouse, as if she’d done this a hundred times. For someone who’d just been widowed, she didn’t appear very distraught.
“How did you and Jonathan meet?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” she answered vaguely. “Guy sees girl at a bar. Guy buys girl a drink. The rest was history.”
If the rest was history, I thought to myself, why had Jonathan taken me out for dinner twice and called both occasions a date?
On the top floor, Pearl strolled right to the penthouse entrance and pushed past the officers guarding the door. None of them stopped her. Her confident gait convinced them she belonged there. With a grimace, I entered after her, bracing myself for the scene inside Jonathan’s suite.
Pearl hardly cast a glance at the shape of her husband’s body, lying beneath a thick white sheet. I sent up a silent prayer for whoever made sure I didn’t have to see Jonathan’s slackened face.
“Back so soon?” Kate said from behind me. She jerked her chin toward Pearl. “Who’s the
