Kate White - Hush

“The time?” Hull prodded.

“Sorry, I didn’t pay much attention. I guess it was around eleven.”

“And did anyone see you come home? Your husband, for instance?”

Why are you asking that? “I’m not married,” she said. “The doorman might have seen me. But I think he was hailing a cab for someone.”

“Thank you,” he said, not sounding the least bit grateful. And then they left.

As soon as they were gone, she put her head in her hands and pulled in a long deep breath. Then she replayed the interview in her mind. McCarty was decent enough but Hull had been curt, almost snarky. They’d wanted to know if anyone could verify that she arrived home at eleven. Was she actually a suspect? Or was she in their sights simply because she’d been at the dinner? Weren’t the last people to see someone alive always possible suspects? Plus she was a woman. By now, Keaton’s sheets-and the used condom, if Keaton had left it by the bed-had clearly given away what he’d been doing during the hours before his death.

The detectives’ interest in her might have been heightened by whatever Steve had told them. He was supposed to be a friend, but he’d thrown her under the bus, and she had no clue why. If he’d driven by her last night, why not pull over and offer her a lift? Had he not stopped because he’d seen her searching for a particular building? Had he told the police that?

She glanced back down at the page open on her laptop. How was she ever going to be able to concentrate enough to pull her presentation together?

A sound in the doorway jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Dr. Levin standing there.

“Sorry if I startled you,” he said. “It seems we’re all on edge at the moment.”

“Yes, it’s awful.”

“The police tell me they’re almost done, for the time being. As soon as they’re gone, and I’m done with my final procedure, we should talk-you, me, and the other doctors. We need to know how to handle this from a PR standpoint.”

As he spoke Lake realized that she should have been the one making this recommendation, but she’d been too crazed to think straight.

“Absolutely,” she said. “I have some suggestions I can make.”

He nodded soberly. “Let’s say about four then.”

“By the way,” she said as he turned to leave. “Reporters will start to call. Until we’ve discussed a plan, you shouldn’t talk to anyone. And tell the staff not to.”

A short while later she became aware of staff moving up and down the corridor, and Lake figured the detectives had probably gone. She decided she needed to get out of the office for a few minutes, to try to calm herself before her meeting with Levin, and think of what advice she should offer. On her way out Lake saw that the receptionist was the only one in the waiting room-sitting grim-faced, twirling a strand of her hair.

Lake was halfway down Eighty-third Street, headed toward Lexington Avenue, when she heard her name called and turned to see Steve hurrying up behind her. He was still wearing his white lab coat, as if he’d dashed out when he saw her leaving.

“You okay?” he asked when he caught up to her. His brown eyes looked worried.

“Not ideal,” she said. “It’s pretty upsetting.”

“I know,” he said. “Sorry you got stuck in the middle of this.”

“Well, you haven’t made it easier for me,” she said. She surprised herself by her bluntness.

“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly perplexed.

“You told the police you saw me wandering around SoHo last night.”

He drew a breath. “But-I don’t understand-what’s the problem with that?”

“They seem to find that suspicious,” Lake said.

“God, Lake, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“What exactly did you tell them?”

“Just that I saw you as I was driving home. They asked when I’d last seen each person who’d attended the dinner, so I mentioned that I spotted you after we’d picked up the car.”

“I was looking for a cab.”

“Well, there’s hardly anything wrong with that,” he said.

“I’m surprised you didn’t stop for me.”

He sighed and glanced off to the left.

“I should have. But to be honest, I was having a pretty intense discussion with Hilary. It would have been awkward.”

Lake wondered if it was about how flirty Hilary had been with Keaton during dinner.

“Is that all you told them then?” Lake asked.

“What do you mean?” Steve said. “What else would I tell them?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want to be caught off guard again.”

“That was it-and again, I’m sorry. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m just feeling a little rattled,” she said. “Because of everything. I’ll be back in a little while.”

It was hot out, in the mid-eighties, and the walk did nothing to calm her, only left her blouse damp and sticky with sweat. But at least she could relax with the knowledge that Steve hadn’t seen her on Crosby Street, or going into Keaton’s.

Upon her return, even the receptionist was now gone from the waiting area, though she found Maggie, Rory, Chelsea, and Emily bunched by the kitchenette, whispering. Clearly they’d been discussing the murder.

“Oh, there you are,” Maggie said, smiling weakly.

Lake glanced at her watch. It was twenty to four.

“Was Dr. Levin looking for me?” she asked.

“No, but a man called for you. He wouldn’t leave his name.”

It was hard for her to imagine who it would be. Hotchkiss? Had she ever told him the name of the clinic?

She started to turn to get back to the small conference room, but caught herself. She should stay, she thought. Gossiping with these four would help keep her in the loop-though she would have to be careful of every word she spoke.

“So how’s everyone doing?” she asked, forcing a sympathetic smile.

“I’m scared to death,” Maggie said. “I asked my sister to spend the night with me.”

“You don’t think you’re in danger, do you?” Lake asked.

“I just don’t want to be alone,” Maggie said. She turned to Rory. “What are you going to do? You shouldn’t be under stress in your condition.”

“I know-I have to think of the baby,” Rory said. “Colin’s going to be away for a few more days and our house is kind of secluded. I’ll probably call a friend.”

Emily shook her head.

“You girls are being silly. It’s not like there’s some serial killer out there stalking people who work at fertility clinics.”

“What do the police think?” Lake asked. “Was it a burglary?” She’d tried to make her voice seem natural, but her words sounded stilted to her, like she was acting in a high school play.

“They asked me if I knew if he was seeing someone,” Maggie whispered. “Like it might have been one of those crimes of passion.”

“They asked me that, too,” Rory said. And then she turned to Lake. “Did they ask you that, Lake?”

“No,” Lake said. “But then again they wouldn’t. They know I’ve just been here a short time.”

“But you knew him, didn’t you?”

“Keaton?” Lake said, startled. “Um, no. I only met him when I started here.”

“Oh, I saw you talking to him for quite a while yesterday. I thought you might have known him from before.”

Was that why the police had asked if she’d known him previously-based on something Rory had said?

“No, I didn’t.” She could hear a slight defensive edge in her voice. “We were just talking about work-”

“Well, speaking of work, I’ve got things to do,” Emily said. “Can you give me a hand, Maggie?”

Good, Lake thought. She didn’t want any more awkward conversation about Keaton and was glad for the excuse to leave. The group broke up and Lake walked away.