Page 62 of The 24th Hour
I was determined, though, to get what I could from her in the time allowed, with Conklin’s help. We had under an hour to put a dent in the case, but Rich was an ace at interviewing women.
I rolled over and reached for Joe.
“You awake?” I whispered.
“No,” he said. “What day is it?”
“Friday. How’d it go?”
“Hmmmmm?”
“Laptop guy?”
“He saved the day, hon. He wants to make good.”
“For St. Vartan’s?”
“Sure. He was Apocalypto’s. Man with Oakland. Pediatrics. Too.”
“Seriously? And you caught him?”
“He grew a connn …”
“Conscience?”
“Mmmmm.”
“Joe?”
He had slipped right back to sleep. I kissed my fingers and touched his cheek and whispered, “I’ve got to hustle. Got a funeral to go to.”
Joe smiled and held up crossed fingers without opening his eyes, then, “Gloria’s coming at eight.”
“Excellent.”
I gave him a full body hug and got out of bed.
Getting a too-short explanation of how or if Joe had closed the Apocalypto business down was like having the power go out while watching a thriller. Joe had said that the ransomware guy had saved the day. Good to know, but I could have used a few more details. Where did things stand now?
I was still thinking about the possibilities, trying to solve the crime with nothing to go on, as I got ready for the day. I spent five minutes in the rain box, then blow-dried my hair. I stepped into pointy shoes for the first time in so long, my feetprotested. I slid my smart black dress over my head and hung a gold cross on a chain around my neck. I was brushing my hair when the doorbell rang. I greeted Gloria Rose, our saving grace. She was early.
We had one of our shorthand conversations where I ticked off the few items on the Molinari to-do list. I wrote a note to Joe, and when Julie stumbled out of her room with Martha I was grinning. Julie’s curls, black like Joe’s, fell over her blue eyes. She put her arms around my waist. I kissed the top of her head, ruffled Martha’s ears, and last, asked Mrs. Rose how I looked.
“Like you’re going to a funeral.”
We laughed, and sandwiching Julie between us, I hugged Mrs. Rose. I kissed Julie again and told her how much I love, love, love my little girl.
“When Daddy wakes up I’m going to teach him a new game,” Julie said.
“Make sure he’s had his breakfast first, Bugs, okay?”
“Put on some lipstick,” said Mrs. Rose.
Copy that.
CHAPTER 81
ONCE I WAS buckled up in my Explorer and headed to Pacific Heights, I replayed my waking thoughts around and around on a closed loop. The Fricke conundrum. The Holly and Jamie executions. The clueless house staff. Claire’s sharp observation of Jamie’s skinned knuckles. She’d pulled a rabbit out of her scrubs pocket.