Honeymoon

Chapter 78

“HOW’D YOU GET into her purse without her knowing?” Susan asked.

Well, you see, boss, after Nora and I had wild, crazy sex in my bachelor digs, I waited until she fell asleep. Then I slipped out to the kitchen and rummaged through her bag.

On second thought…

“I have my ways,” I simply said. “Isn’t that why you chose me for this?”

“Let’s just say you have a track record, O’Hara. And you were available.”

I was in the office behind my desk the next day, giving Susan an update over the phone on what we’d last discussed: my “dinner date” with Nora. Susan’s main concern was that I might be coming on too strong—that I might scare Nora off.

Ha.

Once I assured Susan that wasn’t the case, her attention fell on what I’d found in Nora’s purse.

“What’s the shyster’s name again?” asked Susan.

“Steven A. Keppler.”

“And he’s a tax attorney in New York City?”

“That’s what his card said.”

“How soon can you talk to him?”

“That’s the thing. I called and Keppler’s away on vacation until next week.”

“Of course, he may not know anything.”

“Or he may know everything. I’m an optimist, remember?”

“He’ll claim client privilege if indeed that’s what Nora is.”

“He probably will.”

“What will you do then?”

“Like I said, I have my ways.”

“I know, that’s what scares me,” she said. “Remember, you’ve got to be careful with lawyers. Some of them, believe it or not, actually know the law.”

“Funny how that works, huh?”

“You’ll keep me informed? You will keep me informed.”

“I always do.”

Hanging up with Susan, I pushed my office chair back and took a deep breath. I felt restless and out of sorts. My computer was in screen-saver mode, and with the heel of my shoe I hit the space bar on the keyboard. The monitor lit. I pulled up my chair and clicked open the file I had on Nora. I started to browse through the pictures I’d first taken of her with the digicam after Connor Brown’s funeral.

I stopped on the last one and studied it.

It was the shot of her talking with Connor’s sister, Elizabeth, on the front steps. Nora was dressed in black, with the same pair of sunglasses she wore with me on our picnic. Elizabeth Brown was almost as good-looking, only she was a California blonde—an architect, according to my notes.

I leaned forward and stared at the photograph closely. On the surface there was nothing unusual about what I was looking at. But that was the thing. Perception versus reality. Either Nora had nothing to hide… or she had everyone fooled. The police. Friends. Elizabeth Brown. Christ. Could she really be standing there and calmly talking to the sister of the man she’d murdered?

Was Nora that convincing? That conniving? What made her so dangerous was that I couldn’t tell for sure. Not even now.

All I knew was one thing: I couldn’t wait to see her again.

I closed the file, telling myself I was out of control. I had to do something. I was standing way too close to the flame, the heat was getting to be too much. I needed to get away. Cool it, O’Hara. At least for a few days.

I had an idea then. Maybe a way of getting my priorities back in order.

I dialed Susan again and told her what I wanted to do.

“I need a couple of days off.”