I heard an intake of breath. Assuming Katy had more to say, I waited.
“Um. Have you talked to Ryan lately?”
“He’s pretty tied up with Lily.”
“How is she?”
“Eh.”
“How about Charlie Hunt?”
“He’s busy composing the world’s most brilliant closing argument.”
There was a moment of hesitation. Then she blurted, “I think he’s seeing this other lawyer in the office. They work late a lot. Together. And they just left. Together. All chatty and smiley.”
I felt a cool fizz in my chest.
“That’s fine. Charlie and I have no commitment to each other.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“No.”
A little beep told me another caller was trying to get through.
“Gotta go, sweetie.”
“Come by my cubicle sometime. Reach in and take my pulse.”
I was still chuckling when I clicked over to call waiting.
The sobs put a choke hold on my mirth.
“Tempe, I do hope it’s OK to call you.” Tremulous. “I didn’t know where else to turn.”
“I’m at the ME office, Summer.”
“I am super, super sorry. You have such a kind nature, and I fear I am abusing it.”
Thinking decidedly unkind thoughts, I began gathering my things.
“The wedding is now a complete disaster.”
When I tossed my purse onto the desk, my wallet popped out. The page with Rinaldi’s code stuck out like a bookmark.
“Pete’s ideas are completely worthless. He chose green napkins. Green? Can you imagine?”
“Mm.”
Desperate for distraction, I teased the paper free and spread it flat with one palm.
“One of my bridesmaids is pregnant and can’t wear the dress. That’s Mary Gray. How could she
Galimore’s interpretation of the second line made sense. Rinaldi was interested in the contradiction in time line presented by Grady Winge and Eugene Fries. I focused on the first line.
“Sarah Elizabeth can’t get to Charlotte in time for the rehearsal. How can you have a wedding without a rehearsal?” Warbly.
Summer blew her nose loudly. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Sarah Elizabeth has always been horribly thoughtless.”
My lower centers sat up.
What? Napkins? Pregnant? Rehearsal?
I stared at the alphanumeric string, only half-listening to Summer’s whining.
Mary Gray.
Sarah Elizabeth.
My mind strained, on the verge of a breakthrough.
“I swear.” More wet sniffling. “I just want to go to sleep and never wake up.”
I ran through my conversation with Katy.
IRS? Airline tickets? Bank account?
I dug deep.
Dots connected.
I knew what was needed to decipher Rinaldi’s note.
AFTER HUSTLING SUMMER OFF THE LINE WITH SOME VAGUE promise of support, I phoned Slidell. Got voice mail. Left a message. Urgent. Call me.
