I turned the paper so we could both see, and explained the letter and number sequences.
“I was looking for some of these issues today. I pulled out a bound volume and found the drive. More interesting is what I didn’t find. These issues are missing. They’ve been cut out of the binding.”
“And there’s no way to tell when, since the books would still be there, right where they’re supposed to be. Unless someone went looking for these specific issues, no one would know they were gone.”
“Right,” I said.
“Do you think Joanna Goodhue could have taken them?”
“I don’t see why, because she could have copied them anytime. That’s what she did with the ones she found. Remember—she had a key to the building and knew where the other keys were kept. No, I think they were gone when she got there.”
“And a lot of other people have keys, or know where they’re kept. So, Joanna either dropped the drive, or hid it.”
“I assumed she set it down and forgot it,” I said, trying to picture the scene.
“Maybe. Tell me again exactly how you found this.”
“It was folded into a book. I was weeding nonfiction—legal and business—deciding what to keep, toss, or update. I always flip through before I scan the barcode. People use all kinds of things as bookmarks and forget about them. This sheet was tucked into a book about divorce law.”
“Hmm,” Jennie said, “and you pulled it off the shelf?”
“No. It was on my desk, or on a cart next to my desk. I had pulled several the day before but hadn’t gotten through all of them.”
“This was one you pulled?”
“I’m not sure. It was relatively new but hadn’t been checked out recently. It went back on the shelf.”
“So, Mrs. Goodhue could have checked it out in the past, put this paper in, and forgotten about it, which seems unlikely, or she deliberately left it where she knew you would find it.”
Jennie sat tapping her pencil against her notebook.
“There’s another possibility,” I said. “She might have been looking something up in that particular book, and didn’t want to be seen putting it back, or wanted to put it somewhere it wouldn’t be noticed. But then why leave the notes?”
“Because she was afraid, and wanted to leave the evidence where it wouldn’t be obvious, but where she could find it again. Or where someone else would.”
“You think she knew she was in danger?”
“I don’t know, but from what I’ve learned, she was an organized, intelligent woman. She was an investigative reporter once, wasn’t she?”
I nodded.
“Then I think this was deliberate. We don’t know how long she was alone in the building, or if she knew someone else was there. It was risky, but if she had to move fast, not a bad plan. And it worked. Someone she trusted found the evidence.”
Someone she trusted, and someone she’d asked for help. Just like Danny.
I slumped back in my chair. Had Joanna known she was being stalked? Had Danny? No. They wouldn’t have left themselves vulnerable, alone. But they both knew something was wrong, something dangerous. Had either of them seen the blow coming?
I rubbed my eyes. This was not a productive line of thought.
There’s a real problem here. I’m going to be late.
One of the last messages I had gotten from Danny. I’d been annoyed.
I need your help.
Both of them. I’d put them off. Other things to do.
I kept my eyes shut and concentrated on my breathing. I heard Jennie shift in her chair.
“What’s the matter, Greer?”
I opened my eyes. I looked at the face now a foot from my own and made a decision. She was not just some small-town cop. She’d been around. I trusted her to the extent that I trusted anyone in Raven Hill, and I needed her to trust me. What Sadie and Jack had seen sounded crazy, but I was sure it was important and I needed her to believe me. I couldn’t follow up on everything myself. Joanna had been smart enough to leave a trail. I would do the same. There were some secrets I was tired of keeping.
Chapter Twenty
“Do you trust me?” I asked Jennie.
She sat back in her chair and considered me.
“To a point,” she said, “but you haven’t been completely honest from the start. I still think you’re hiding something important.”
“I am, but it’s not about Joanna’s death. It’s something important to me. I know I was twitchy and not forthcoming but that was more about the habit of hiding things. Do you know what I mean?”
Her mouth tightened and she drew back slightly. But she nodded. My conclusion after our conversation in the Java Joint was correct. The woman had secrets of her own. If that’s what allowed her to withhold judgement and listen, fine.
“It’s about the night my husband was killed,” I said, then stopped. Where to begin? I tried again.
“You’ve read the reports, I assume. From the police in New York?”
“I talked to the investigating officer. He sent copies.”
I filed that away for future reference. I might need a look at those.
“So, you know I didn’t have anything to do with Danny’s murder?”
“You were out of it almost immediately. Your cab driver picked you up past the time of death, and except for a brief time at the hotel you were within sight of a lot of people.”
“Yes, it was a real crush, that gathering, and Danny was supposed to be with me.”
Running late. Meet you there. The first text. I was still in my office.
She nodded. She knew this.
“Well, it’s that ‘brief time’ that’s the issue.”
It had been an unseasonably hot night for early spring in Manhattan. I’d been loosening up my more conservative office look, and was stripping off my pantyhose when the first text came. I was annoyed. I had debated attending this event, and finally let Danny talk me into it. Just drinks with his business school cohort. A
