Page 78 of Delusion in Death
“Did you see this woman at the bar?”
“I don’t…” His brows knitted together. “I’m not sure. She looks familiar.”
“I saw her.” Weaver took the photo. “I’ve seen her in the bar a few times. I’m sure I saw her in there yesterday.”
“Must be why she looks familiar.”
Vann angled his head. “Oh yeah. She was at a table with another woman and a couple of guys. Lots of laughing and flirting going on.”
“Okay. How about this woman?”
She offered the photo of Jeni Curve.
“Jeni,” Nancy said immediately. “She delivers for Café West. She’s up here nearly every day for someone. Was she—”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“God.” Breath hitching, Weaver squeezed her eyes shut. “Dear God.”
“Do both of you know her as well?” Eve asked the men.
“Everybody knows Jeni,” Callaway said. “She’s a sweetheart, always ready to take the extra step, always cheerful. Steve had the flirt on with her.”
“She’s dead,” Vann murmured staring at the photo. “We just got lunch from her a couple days ago. Locked in on the campaign, and she brought in our lunch order. Extra soy fries because she knows I like them. She’s dead.”
He rose, walked over, poured water. “Sorry. It just hits. I got takeout from there one night last week, walked out just as she did—off her shift. I walked her home before I caught a cab. I walked her home, and I thought about talking my way up to her place. I think she’d have been open to it. But I had to work, so I let it go. She’s dead.”
“You were interested in her?”
“She’s beautiful and bright. Was. Yeah, I thought about it that night. Long day, take-out food because it’s going to be a long night of work. And here’s this bright, beautiful woman giving me all the right signals. I thought, well, why not. An impulse thing,” he said. “But the campaign.”
“So the two of you never connected that way.”
“No. I figured, plenty of time if the mood strikes again. That’s what you think,” he said as his grieving eyes met Eve’s. “There’s always plenty of time. Time for bright, beautiful women, or for another drink with a friend from work. Plenty of time to get your boys together at the park one Saturday. Goddamn it.”
Saying nothing, Weaver rose, opened a glossy cabinet and took out a decanter. She poured two fingers of rich amber liquid, took it to Steve.
“Thanks. Thanks, Nancy. I’m sorry,” he said to Eve. “It’s just hitting me. It’s real. It happened.”
“No apology necessary. What about you, Mr. Callaway? How well did you know Jeni?”
“I liked her. Everybody did. I never hit on her, if that’s what you mean. She was the delivery girl, and I liked her, but that’s it.”
“Tell me about Carly Fisher.”
Callaway looked mildly surprised by the request. “Another bright girl. Nancy’s protégée. Creative, hardworking.”
“I’m going to have a drink, too.” Weaver went back to the decanter. “Anyone else?”
“On duty,” Eve said simply.
“Oh, right. Lew?”
“No. Thanks.”
“Would you say Carly was competitive?” Eve asked Lew.
“Sure. You can’t make it in this business without an edge. She had one. She wanted to move up.”