The rental car was idling in front of her office building. The sun was doing its level best to light the slate gray sky. The early risers were streaming into the lobby, collars turned against the morning chill. Some people had already broken out their scarves and hats. Connelly was looking at her. Waiting for her to get out.
Sasha had been quiet on the short drive downtown. She’d been thinking about Peterson’s wife, wondering if he had talked to her last night. If Laura knew he was planning to take her to France for a year would that make it better or worse?
She couldn’t even hazard a guess. Her longest relationship hadn’t outlasted a container of milk. She knew this for a fact because, for maybe a week after she’d broken up with the guy, she was still drinking the milk she’d bought on her way home from her first date with him. Neil. Emergency room resident.
He’d taken the news stoically, until she got to the part where she was just too busy at work. “I save lives,” he’d protested. “I work twenty-four hours at a time and am on call. If I’m not too busy for this relationship, how can you be?” Remembering poor indignant Neil, she thought maybe she should add another rule: No doctors.
Connelly drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Sasha?”
“Sorry. I was just thinking about Peterson’s wife. Yesterday she was married, today she’s a widow. Just like that.”
“That’s how it happens sometimes.”
“Mmm. I suppose it happened to a lot of people yesterday, all those crash victims . . .” She trailed off and turned to look at him. “Oh my god, Rosa Calvaruso. What if Mickey Collins or Irwin went after her? She probably knows something. I’m sure she knows something about her husband’s job. You have to check on her, Connelly. Make sure she’s okay.”
Sasha’s pulse throbbed in her ear. Noah had thought she was going to visit Mrs. Calvaruso. What if he told his killer that? The old lady’s death would be on her hands. Just like Warner’s.
Connelly’s eyes told her he was worried, too, but he tried to calm her down. “I’m sure she’s fine; but you’re right, we should check it out. I’ll go this morning, after I return the car.”
She breathed out. “Okay. Call me after you see her.”
“Sure. I’m going to call your office number, not your cell phone. Do you know why?”
This again. He’d insisted on laying out his ground rules before they left her apartment. She wasn’t to leave the office. Not for lunch, to go to the coffee shop in the lobby, not to go for a run.
“Ass in chair” was how he’d put it. All day long. Or at least until the package from Warner arrived. Then, she was to call him and they’d figure it out from there. It wasn’t much of a plan, in her opinion, but he only seemed to care that she stay put.
Now, she said, “Yes, Connelly. I’m not going to leave my office.”
She was going to spend any down time in her day figuring out how to rid herself of Connelly. He was getting on her nerves and in her way.
She rolled her neck and reached for the door.
“Be careful,” he said as she shut the door and headed for the plaza.
Across the street, Gregor elbowed Anton in the gut. “There she is. Getting out of a car with, well look at that, Nebraska plates.” He strained, but he couldn’t see the driver.
Anton rubbed his side. “Must be the boyfriend. Whatever. We got a bead on her now.”
Gregor leaned forward and watched her enter the building. She looked like a child compared to all the other office drones around her. He was glad he’d thought to stake out the office building after the pancake place had turned out to be closed. Now, they just had to wait for her to leave and grab her up.
“How long do you think we can park here?” Anton was worried about a sign posted high on a wall warning parkers that the lot was for visitors to the Frick Building only. He’d been hesitant to pull in, but Gregor had instructed him to follow the Aston Martin that they’d been behind on Grant Street into the lot, so he had.
Gregor just shrugged and chewed on the stale bagel he’d picked up at a gas station. He watched the lawyer’s boyfriend pull out into traffic and disappear into the sea of cars.