Or she was projecting her current emotional state onto the bird.
Davis’ visit had stirred up her feelings of inadequacy, reminding her of how much experience she didn’t have. She wished she felt confident enough to tell him to go pound salt, but the sad fact was—he was right. She needed him. And if there was ever a human being she didn’t want to need, it was Dr. Charles Davis.
“I was going to ask if you were busy, but clearly you aren’t.”
Zoe whirled to find Lauren standing in the office doorway. “I’m always busy, but my brain needed a break,” Zoe said. She weaved her way through the stacks of boxes to her desk. “What can I do for you?”
Lauren entered and held up four fingers. “Four days until your wedding. I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re holding up.”
Zoe planted her elbows on her desk, buried her face in her palms, and groaned.
“That good, huh?”
“I’m seriously considering eloping.”
“Your mother would kill you.”
“My mother is why I’m considering eloping.”
Lauren snickered. She set her leather satchel on the floor and planted one hip on the edge of the desk. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Zoe looked toward the window again. The pigeon continued to watch her. “Not unless you can find someone to walk me down the aisle.”
“I already told you. Talk to your stepdad.”
“I tried. He won’t talk to me.”
Lauren blew a puff of air. “You’re both a pair of stubborn jackasses.”
“Now you sound like my mother.”
“She’s right in this case. Ask him.”
Zoe dismissed the suggestion. “My brother isn’t coming to the wedding either. That leaves Harry. If he’s able.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“I was going to wait until right before the wedding. With his Alzheimer’s, he won’t remember.”
“I still say you should ask Tom. He’d do it. I know he would.”
“You don’t know my stepdad like I do.”
Lauren glowered at her.
Zoe rubbed her face. One thing Lauren had said was spot-on. She should talk to Harry. He might remember the conversation. He might not. But hanging out with her future father-in-law always cheered her up. Besides, she could go for one of those milkshakes they made at Golden Oaks. Harry said they were the best around, and he was right.
“Is there anything new about the Landis case?” Lauren asked, snapping Zoe out of her wedding plan blues.
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Oh?” Lauren hoisted her bag onto Zoe’s desk and dug out her notepad and pen.
The line between Lauren-the-friend and Lauren-the-reporter frequently blurred. How much of Zoe’s conversation with Davis should be shared with the media?
Probably none.
Lauren recognized her hesitation. “Oh, come on. Don’t make me beg.”
“Ask Pete.” When Lauren rolled her eyes, Zoe reconsidered. “Ask Wayne.”
The reporter aimed her pen at Zoe. “You’re the coroner now. You need to get used to making statements to the press.”
“That’s one of the tasks I can assign to Dr. Davis,” Zoe said more to herself than to Lauren.
But Lauren heard. “What?”
Zoe told her about the meeting with Davis, leaving out the part about Elizabeth and the arsenic.
“You’ve made a deal with the Devil Davis?” Lauren shook her head. “You have lost your mind.”
How well she knew.
“Is there anything new with Loretta Marshall?” Lauren asked.
Another subject Zoe wasn’t sure she wanted to—or should—talk about with a reporter.
“There is,” Lauren said, correctly interpreting Zoe’s reaction. “Tell me.”
Zoe mulled over the latest developments. The divorce that wasn’t. The new will that was.
Lauren jabbed one finger down on the desk between them. “I’m the one who found out about her working in the same office as Dustin.”
“I know. Pete told me.”
“Tit for tat. I shared what I learned. Now it’s your turn.”
Zoe considered pointing out that it was Pete who owed her, but Lauren wasn’t about to give up. “Loretta is currently being questioned at County Police Headquarters.”
“Why?”
“That’s something else you should ask Wayne.”
“Is she a suspect in Elizabeth’s homicide?”
“She’s tall…athletic. Dressed in a black hoodie? I can picture her being mistaken for a man running from Elizabeth’s car that night. And I’ve seen her wrath up close and personal. Yeah, I definitely think she’s capable of murder.”
Lauren scribbled a note, paused, and looked up at Zoe. “Do you think she might’ve been one of Dustin’s mistresses?”
“It’s a strong possibility.” Zoe realized she was spouting mere assumptions at a member of the news media. “Look, I really don’t know anything for sure. You once told me to give you a crumb. Well, I just gave you a whole handful. You’ll have to get your confirmation from another source.”
Lauren clicked her pen and closed the notebook. “Maybe I’d have better luck getting information from Dr. Davis. As I recall, he loves to talk.”
“Don’t remind me.”
After Lauren left, Zoe attempted to do some paperwork with little success. Franklin’s death, Loretta’s probable guilt, an unexpected inheritance, the wedding four days from now, all played on a repeating loop in her head. She finally gave up, transferred all office calls to her cell, and locked the door.
She needed that milkshake.
As she pulled into the parking lot at Golden Oaks, Zoe spotted a small gray sedan leaving via the rear exit. The car looked like Lauren’s, but so did a dozen others within the county. The spots nearest the doors were filled, but the rest of the lot was empty. No one wanted to walk any distance in this icy drizzle.
Zoe found Harry, an open book about to fall from his lap, dozing in the public gathering area near his room. She approached quietly, pinched the book’s cover, and tried to rescue it without waking him. But his grip on the novel was firmer than she thought. He jerked awake.
“Oh. Hello, Sunshine,” he said with the weak smile she recognized as the one he used when he had no idea to whom he was speaking.
“Hello, handsome.” She planted a kiss on his forehead.
The smile widened. “Don’t be letting
