Blow Out
Page 79
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“It’s possible.” Ben had watched each woman study the photos, watched for any sign of recognition on their faces. He hadn’t seen any.
“Callie,” Margaret said. “Does he look at all familiar to you?”
“Actually,” Callie said, “I thought he looked a bit like one of our investigative reporters. No, no, just kidding.”
Ben said, “If Günter’s not an American, chances are he came here maybe fifteen years ago. He’s physically strong, and he seems to like taking risks. Since he’s well into his fifties, maybe even sixties, I doubt he’s into any extreme sports, but he’s still very strong and fit.”
“But if he is an American,” Anna Clifford said, “he could have lived here all his life and who would be the wiser for it?”
“That’s true,” Callie said. “And the thing with Danny, that was a big risk, right in the middle of the morning, anyone could have seen him go into Danny’s apartment, heard him.”
“But no one did, apparently,” said Juliette Trevor.
Ben’s eyes swung to her. She said, “There would have been some news about that, wouldn’t there? A witness saying something, right? But there’s been nothing reported at all.”
“You’re right. No one saw anything, and you can believe that everyone within a several block radius has been interviewed by experts.” Ben put the photos in his pocket, and finished off his last slice of pizza. He looked from one woman to the next. All of them seemed to blur together, forming one image in his mind. They seemed united, and in that moment, he had no doubt they would pull Margaret Califano through this tragedy by sheer force of will.
He looked at his watch, saw that it was after ten o’clock. He rose, nodded to all the women. “Callie, I believe you and I are going to be having dinner with Savich and Sherlock tomorrow evening.”
She rose to stand beside him. “Yes. I understand Savich is a great cook. Is that okay with you, Mom?” In her question she included all her mother’s friends as well.
“Certainly,” said Janette. “We’ll all be here tomorrow night. We’re going to have a potluck dinner; our families will be here as well. We’re very pleased that you’re working with the FBI and the local police, Callie.” She patted her arm. “It also helps keep your mind occupied, doesn’t it?”
“Actually, it helps me focus on who killed my stepfather and Danny. If it’s Günter, I want him caught as badly as all of you do. Ben, I’ll walk you out.”
He shrugged on his black leather jacket, pulled on his black leather gloves. His hand was on the doorknob when he turned back. “My mom has only one close woman friend. This is new to me. They’re quite a unit, aren’t they?”
“A unit—yes, that’s a good word for them. All of them are incredible women.”
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. Savich wants us to see Fleurette. He said four other agents have already spoken with her, but he wants us to focus on her lunch with Danny on Friday. He says his gut is dancing, and tells him there’s got to be something more there. He wants us to take a crack at it.” Ben paused, grinned. “He wants to know exactly where they sat in the sandwich shop, what they ate, and the color of Fleurette’s toenail polish, everything about that lunch until they got back to the Supreme Court.”
“Sure, we can give it a shot. Do you know, it feels weird to be sleeping here. I never did very much since they bought the house after I went to college. I’d like to go back to my apartment, but I can’t yet.”
“Be patient, Callie. Now, tomorrow evening, dinner will be about six. Savich said he’ll have Sean fed by then. I think his sister and her fiancé will be there too. Savich doesn’t want to talk shop, but I’ll just bet you we will.” He reached out and lightly cupped her cheek in his gloved hand. “You okay?”
Callie didn’t think, leaned into his hand, and stared up at him. “Sonya said you wanted to sleep with me.”
He didn’t move his hand. “That’s what you two were talking about in the kitchen?”
“For just a couple of minutes.”
“Sonya really said that?”
“Yes. She said you never looked below her face. She couldn’t believe it.”
Ben grinned at that. “The woman’s built, but I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“She said I was blind, she said you were interested.”
“Callie,” Margaret said. “Does he look at all familiar to you?”
“Actually,” Callie said, “I thought he looked a bit like one of our investigative reporters. No, no, just kidding.”
Ben said, “If Günter’s not an American, chances are he came here maybe fifteen years ago. He’s physically strong, and he seems to like taking risks. Since he’s well into his fifties, maybe even sixties, I doubt he’s into any extreme sports, but he’s still very strong and fit.”
“But if he is an American,” Anna Clifford said, “he could have lived here all his life and who would be the wiser for it?”
“That’s true,” Callie said. “And the thing with Danny, that was a big risk, right in the middle of the morning, anyone could have seen him go into Danny’s apartment, heard him.”
“But no one did, apparently,” said Juliette Trevor.
Ben’s eyes swung to her. She said, “There would have been some news about that, wouldn’t there? A witness saying something, right? But there’s been nothing reported at all.”
“You’re right. No one saw anything, and you can believe that everyone within a several block radius has been interviewed by experts.” Ben put the photos in his pocket, and finished off his last slice of pizza. He looked from one woman to the next. All of them seemed to blur together, forming one image in his mind. They seemed united, and in that moment, he had no doubt they would pull Margaret Califano through this tragedy by sheer force of will.
He looked at his watch, saw that it was after ten o’clock. He rose, nodded to all the women. “Callie, I believe you and I are going to be having dinner with Savich and Sherlock tomorrow evening.”
She rose to stand beside him. “Yes. I understand Savich is a great cook. Is that okay with you, Mom?” In her question she included all her mother’s friends as well.
“Certainly,” said Janette. “We’ll all be here tomorrow night. We’re going to have a potluck dinner; our families will be here as well. We’re very pleased that you’re working with the FBI and the local police, Callie.” She patted her arm. “It also helps keep your mind occupied, doesn’t it?”
“Actually, it helps me focus on who killed my stepfather and Danny. If it’s Günter, I want him caught as badly as all of you do. Ben, I’ll walk you out.”
He shrugged on his black leather jacket, pulled on his black leather gloves. His hand was on the doorknob when he turned back. “My mom has only one close woman friend. This is new to me. They’re quite a unit, aren’t they?”
“A unit—yes, that’s a good word for them. All of them are incredible women.”
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. Savich wants us to see Fleurette. He said four other agents have already spoken with her, but he wants us to focus on her lunch with Danny on Friday. He says his gut is dancing, and tells him there’s got to be something more there. He wants us to take a crack at it.” Ben paused, grinned. “He wants to know exactly where they sat in the sandwich shop, what they ate, and the color of Fleurette’s toenail polish, everything about that lunch until they got back to the Supreme Court.”
“Sure, we can give it a shot. Do you know, it feels weird to be sleeping here. I never did very much since they bought the house after I went to college. I’d like to go back to my apartment, but I can’t yet.”
“Be patient, Callie. Now, tomorrow evening, dinner will be about six. Savich said he’ll have Sean fed by then. I think his sister and her fiancé will be there too. Savich doesn’t want to talk shop, but I’ll just bet you we will.” He reached out and lightly cupped her cheek in his gloved hand. “You okay?”
Callie didn’t think, leaned into his hand, and stared up at him. “Sonya said you wanted to sleep with me.”
He didn’t move his hand. “That’s what you two were talking about in the kitchen?”
“For just a couple of minutes.”
“Sonya really said that?”
“Yes. She said you never looked below her face. She couldn’t believe it.”
Ben grinned at that. “The woman’s built, but I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“She said I was blind, she said you were interested.”