Secretive Stranger

by Jennifer Greene

  “Like Penny. Like Jan.”

  “Yeah. And like Hillary.” For someone who’d been eating like a wanton pig, she suddenly couldn’t look at the food. And sitting there without clothes abruptly felt…wrong. She reached down, found his shirt on the floor, yanked it on. “They talked about your brother all the time, naturally. All the best gossip revolved around him. Everybody knew Jon. He wasn’t awake most Sunday mornings, but he was known to grab a coffee there, too. What makes you ask about them?”

  Cord wasn’t looking at her. Of course he was still eating. “I just think that your holing up here for a while is a good idea.”

  “Actually, I was thinking that we’ll be in Foggy Bottom early enough tomorrow that I could do my Sunday coffee klatch thing with them. They’ll think it’s weird if I don’t show up. In fact, they’ll worry. Besides which…Cord, they’ve been really good to me, like pitching in to help after that first break-in.”

  “Maybe they pitched in. But maybe that gave them an ideal excuse to nose around.”

  The comment startled her. “They’re nosy for sure. Gossipy. But I can’t imagine a reason to be suspicious of them.”

  Cord fell silent. She watched his expression, watched his body language, and thought he might as well have been stabbing her in the heart.

  Before making love, before becoming so close, he might have reasons to keep serious things from her. Cord was private by nature. So was she. But at this point, he surely had to know she’d trusted him with her heart. With her life, when it came down to it. Yet every instinct megaphoned that apparently, that trust wasn’t shared, because he was locking her out of something.

  She tried a short joke, a laugh. “What? You think the police see Penelope or Jan as suspects in your brother’s murder?”

  His response was immediate. “I think the cops see everyone as a potential suspect right now.”

  She tried another short laugh, this one downright fake. “Next thing, you’ll be telling me they think I’m a suspect.”

  There was just a flash of dark in his eyes. He immediately said, quietly, strongly, “There’s no way you’re a suspect, cookie.”

  But she knew from that flash in his eyes, from his sudden stiffness, from the way he jerked around for his drink-that she was. She actually was a suspect. And Cord knew of the police’s suspicions.

  She didn’t say anything else, didn’t ask anything else, couldn’t, not then. Cord’s exhaustion caught up with him, which was probably the reason he’d slipped with those comments to begin with. He crashed early. So did she.

  Yet, on the morning drive back to D.C., Cord kept trying to make conversation. She answered him. She smiled.

  Yet her heart sank lower with every mile. The glow from the time with Cord-his lovemaking, his caring, the shelter of feeling unquestionably loved-was dissipating like fog in the wind. She didn’t doubt he wanted to protect her. She didn’t doubt that he cared, or that their lovemaking had touched him.

  But something was broken. And she was afraid it was her.

  A watery sun peaked over the horizon as they reached Foggy Bottom. He dropped her off, rather than both of them wasting time finding a place to park. She said the obvious things, that she’d see him in a few hours after she got all her things together.

  But the instant she entered her apartment and called for Caviar, she sank in a chair, feeling weak as dandelion fluff. The tomcat immediately prowled into the room, meowing furiously as he leaped on her lap, and butted his head under her chin.

  “Okay, okay,” she murmured. “I know you’re mad I was gone. But Cord was here every day, giving you fresh food and water. You know I’d never abandon you, you doofus.”

  But the cat seemed beside himself, kneading and purring and nuzzling. Sophie closed her eyes, burying her face in the cat’s soft fur, wishing the thick, sad lump in her throat would go away. She knew she had some unreasonable fears. She knew it was irrationally hard for her to believe that anyone could last in her life.

  But Cord’s behavior-his suddenly changing from a lover to a man keeping secrets from her-hurt like a raw wound. When the killer was found, he’d be gone. What had held them together was the danger, the connection to Jon. But he’d always had one foot out the door.

  Trusting someone was always a choice, always a risk.

  Apparently it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take with her.

  “Come on, Cav, we can’t sit here and let ourselves wallow like this.” She forced herself out of the chair. Whatever happened between her and Cord, her immediate plans were the same. She had all her records, and translating dictionaries and work to put together. Clothes and toiletries. For darn sure, the litter box needed cleaning out, and the milk in her fridge poured down the drain.

  None of it should have taken more than a few minutes, if Caviar hadn’t tried to trip her every step of the way. If he wasn’t winding around her legs, he was dropping cat toys at her feet-or stealing anything that wasn’t tied down, such as her toothbrush, which he actually took out of her carry-on satchel and started batting around.

  “Cav, quit it,” she finally said, impatiently. Naturally, when she was knee-deep in kitty litter-new and old-the cat chose that instant to drop a new toy in her path. “How am I ever going to get you in a cage to take to Cord’s, when I have no…Hey, what on earth do you have there?”

  She caught the glimpse of something small and black, rectangular in shape, knew in a blink it was a flash drive. “How did you get that, you little demon? Give it!”

  Naturally, the cat took off with it, delighted when Sophie gave chase. She couldn’t imagine how the cat had found the thing. All her computer supplies and records were safely in files. In life, she might be a wee bit on the untidy side, but she’d never been careless with her work.

  Naturally, the cat chose to burrow under the bed, making it all the harder for Sophie to retrieve it. She had to lie flat and stretch her arm out full length-which the cat thought was even more play. Finally, though, her fingers closed on the cat’s treasure. Having lost the game, the cat ambled off with dignity, to wash himself in the sunlight, as if he’d never cared at all…leaving Sophie to stare at the booty.

  She used flash drives. Everyone did. She used several kinds. Everyone probably did that, too. But she definitely didn’t recognize this brand. Confused, she carted the drive to her desk computer, booted up, popped it in.

  Within seconds, she recognized that it wasn’t her flash drive. It was Jon’s.

  The drive contained a half-dozen files-all women’s first names-but Sophie only recognized one. Jan. And when she saw it, she hesitated, then clicked on the file.

  The first image made her wince.

  She didn’t finish looking at all the images.

  Couldn’t.

  For a while she couldn’t seem to move, just sat there, trying to make sense of this new development. Jan had freely admitted sleeping with Jon, but until Cord’s comments yesterday, Sophie had no idea Jan was a suspect. The file, of course, supplied a potential reason. Then she considered the break-ins, the times Jan had been in her apartment, whether those events could be put together in some way she’d never thought of before. And still she sat there-but not for long.

  Less than ten minutes later, she knocked next door. Cord answered immediately, although his sleeves were rolled up, as if he’d been working hot and hard in Jon’s flat. “You’re already ready to drive back? I figured getting everything together would take you longer.”

  “It will,” she agreed. “And I need to make a short trek out for some stuff. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we didn’t leave for another couple hours.”

  “No sweat at all. From mail to phone calls to computer records, I can hunker down here as long as you need. Just rap when you’re ready to go.” He leaned down as if to kiss her, saw her eyes, stopped.

  Maybe there was a short, sharp glint of hurt in his eyes, but there was certainly no surprise. He said slowly, “On the drive back to my place, I think…we need to
air out a whole bunch of things.”

  “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, and turned around.

  When she hiked outside, it was a leaf-shuffling morning, crisp and sunny. The bistro was only a short two blocks away. Right off, she could see a few hardy souls had chosen the cement tables outside, but the line inside for fresh blueberry bagels stretched almost to the door.

  Most of the neighborhood group was already there. Hillary, dressed in hospital scrubs, had clearly taken the ownership of a table, judging from the heap of jackets and purses behind her. Sophie recognized at least a half-dozen faces in the line, including Jan and Penelope. They both spotted her as she was walking in.

  “Sophie!” They shrieked hellos as if they hadn’t seen her in weeks, and immediately demanded to hear the latest news about Jon’s case. Jan wore a fabulous Australian shawl over a riding skirt and boots, looking artsy and elegant, as always. Penelope, for once, looked as if she were a tad hungover. At her worst, she was still gorgeous, but mascara smudges darkened her eyes and her hair was clipped up in an unbrushed knot.

  Sophie wanted to slap herself. It was so like every other Sunday, the same whispers and laughter, the same talk about people, the same smells and tastes, the same scraping of chairs as they crowded around a table. No one looked different. No one behaved differently. If it weren’t for the flash drive in her pocket, Sophie would never have thought anything was wrong-much less that her whole world had turned upside down.

  Hillary was the first one to rise. “I was on call all last night, can hardly hold my head up. I have to go home and get some Z’s. Sophie, you better have more news for us next time!”

  “I’ll try,” Sophie said.

  Penelope and two others reached for coats next. Jan reached for her jacket around the same time, but Sophie said, “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

  “You know you can.” Jan tossed some change on the table, stood up. “I’m headed uptown, rather than home.”

  “That’s okay. I just need a minute.” Once they were both outside, away from all listening ears, Sophie palmed the flash drive and pressed it in Jan’s hand. “What’s this?”

  But Jan’s face bleached of color, in spite of the brisk chill. Sophie fell silent, studying her, at first trying to imagine Jan shoving her in that closet. Then trying to imagine her capable of killing Jon. Although Sophie knew it was hardly evidence in a court of law, the blanched, sick look on Jan’s face told her the truth that mattered. Jan’s conscience was eating her up from the inside out.

  “As goofy as it sounds,” Sophie said calmly, “the cat hid this. I have no idea for how long. Apparently, Caviar thought the flash drive was a toy. For the record, there were a few other files on the drive besides yours. I deleted the others. I don’t know who they were, and didn’t want to know.”

  Jan was clutching the drive in a white-knuckled fist. Her other hand was pressed to her stomach. She said nothing else for a moment, then blurted out, “He was blackmailing me, Sophie.”

  Sophie took a breath. “I figured that. Not because I saw or heard about anything else related to you. I didn’t. But when I saw what was on that file…” She didn’t want to remember what few images she’d seen. They weren’t pornographic. They were simply…lovers’ pictures. A woman at her most vulnerable.

  “I’d have lost everything if he took it to the attorneys handling my trust fund. It wasn’t just about the money, Soph. It was about the family name. It was about ripping away everything I had-”

  “You don’t have to say any more.”

  But Jan only looked more hollow, more sick. “I didn’t love him, Sophie. But I cared. I never thought he’d…destroy me. And the more money he kept bleeding me for, the more frantic I got. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted whatever pictures or CDs he had. I was ashamed. Try to understand-”

  Sophie made a dismissive motion. “Hey-I’m not your judge and jury, and not looking to be. I just think it’s time all this got stopped. All the threats, all the harm, all the destruction. Before anything worse happens.”

  There was nothing else she wanted to say or hear-not from Jan. She spun around and aimed for home. She stepped in the street, heard the blare of horns, jumped back on the sidewalk. Yeah, her heart was pounding, but she kept thinking how ironic it was, that she’d been fine going into that meeting with Jan…but now that it was over, her hands were shaky and her stomach pitching acid.

  Maybe that wasn’t so weird, though. Facing Jan was never going to be as tricky, as hard, as unsettling…as the man she had to face now.

  When she sped up the stairs, she found Jon’s apartment door wide open. Cord showed up as if he’d just been waiting to hear her footsteps. “I thought you were just going out for a few minutes, like to a quick stop. When you were gone awhile, I started to worry.”

  “I’m fine.” The classic lie, but this wasn’t the kind of thing she could tell him until they could be quiet somewhere. She felt his gaze on her face, searching, studying, but she hurried on. “You ready to go? It’ll just take a minute to put my things in the back of your car. I’m hoping you’ll carry the litter box. And I’ll do something brilliant to con Caviar into the traveling cage.”

  “If you have trouble, we’ll do the Caviar thing together.”

  Doing that mundane running around helped calm her nerves, at least for a few minutes. Caviar wasn’t that hard to trick into the cage, but started fiercely meowing the minute the door was latched-and he got really ticked when the car engine started. Apparently, he didn’t care for car rides.

  Sophie was just as miserable.

  She’d intended to wait until they got back to Cord’s-it wasn’t that long a drive-but an accident created a traffic jam. They weren’t stalled indefinitely, but Cord kept shooting her concerned looks. Every conversation pushed to engage her, to understand her silences. “I’ve got classes early tomorrow,” he told her. “And the police left messages, last night and this morning both. I called the detective. They want another meeting tomorrow. I’ll keep in touch with you by phone, so you know where I am and what’s happening, but I may be not around until well after six-”

  She interrupted him. She just couldn’t wait any longer. “If you’re going to see the police, there’s something I have to tell you. Well. Actually, there’s something I want to give you.”

  She fished in her patchwork bag, found the original flash drive and put it on the dash where he could see it.

  “What’s this?” Finally, there was a break in the stalled traffic and Cord could pick up speed.

  It seemed like a million years since she’d made love with him, since her sister had come, since she’d sat on Cord’s bed, bare naked, eating shrimp. She leaned her head back against the seat. “This morning, when I was gone for an hour or so…I went to Sunday breakfast with the group. Saw Jan, Hillary, Penelope. I stopped to talk to Jan afterward.”

  “You what?”

  “There are a half-dozen files on that flash drive. I didn’t actually look at all of them, but I’d bet the barn they’re pretty much all…lovers’ pictures. Women. Posing for their lover. That sort of thing. Anyway, you’re the only one who knows or has that original. I made a partial copy-a copy that only had Jan’s files on it-and gave it to her.”

  “You what?”

  Her voice got a little waver in it, but she explained in a steadfast and calm manner, about Caviar, about how she’d found the drive. “I just did a tiny, tiny change in the original I just gave you. Jan’s file is a little darkened. As if whoever took the pictures didn’t have enough lighting. All the pictures are still there. It just isn’t obvious, in her file, who the woman is.”

  “Wait a minute. Hold it. Just hold it.” Cord almost caused a second accident when he jerked to the side of the road and skidded into a sharp brake. The tires spit gravel. Cars honked behind them. He slapped the car in gear. “I must be deaf, because somehow I thought you said that you went alone. Without telling me, even after all you’ve been through. To see two of t
he women we already believed were suspects-”

  “Actually, I didn’t believe that. Or even hear the theory until last night.”

  She watched, a little fascinated, when Cord rubbed a hand over his face. She’d never seen him angry before. For that matter, she’d never seen him confounded, either.

  “So let me see if I’ve got this straight. You actually went to see the person who probably broke into your place-”

  “Yes. I think Jan was definitely the one who broke into my place both times.”

  “And who could have murdered Jon-”

  “No. She didn’t do that.”

  “And you know this how?”

  She’d never seen a man try to talk through gritted teeth before. As calmly as she tried to answer him, her palms were slicker than waterslides. “Because I saw her face when I was talking to her. That was partly the reason I needed to do this. So I could see her reactions. Although I was always pretty sure she wasn’t Jon’s killer, Cord, because…I kept remembering how that burglar had pushed me in the closet. How she didn’t shoot me or stab me. She did what she had to do, so that I couldn’t identify her and she could get away, but she didn’t deliberately hurt me. And that’s just not the way a killer would behave.”

  “Stop. I’m really struggling to grasp this. You tampered with evidence. You’re aware that’s against the law?”

  She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. “Not exactly.”

  “Sophie! The way you described what you did, it was exactly tampering!”

  “Okay, okay. I was in a hurry, I didn’t have a whole lot of time to think. Maybe I should have thought that part through a little more. But I just changed it a tiny bit, Cord. And this was the thing-Jan didn’t really do anything that terrible, except want Jon as a lover, care about him. She comes from this old, landed family, where she could lose her inheritance if she caused any scandal to the family name. But this wasn’t about her, Cord. I wasn’t trying to protect her from what she chose to do. When I found that flash drive…I saw a chance. A chance to push out the truth. This whole mess could go on ruining people’s lives indefinitely. If the police can’t come up with any better suspects than me, I don’t have a lot of faith-”