Jennifer Greene - Secretive Stranger

But then the rest of life came back into focus. Daylight filtered through the north window, illuminating part of the devastation from the night before. Her tall, antique-white bookcase with the glass doors-hers, not part of the rental furniture that came with the place-was in shambles, glass panes broken, books spilled all over the polished plank floors. Her shoes and purses looked strewn from her closet by a drunk ogre on a binge. Drawers were askew, revealing bra straps and socks and an upended box of old letters. “You were helpful,” she said to Cord. “I don’t care if I had too much wine. I needed to get away from this for a little bit. But now…”

Now she had a monster mess-and a job-to attend to, and she assumed he’d leave. Instead, when she got out of the bathroom, fresh showered, still pulling a purple sweater over her pounding head, Cord was still there.

She found him in the kitchen, by following the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of crackling eggs, but he stopped messing with the spatula the instant she walked in. Talk about an inspection. She felt examined, from her gray flannel skirt to the bulky fit of her purple sweater to her fresh-washed hair. His gaze narrowed on her face, though. “You don’t feel sick?” he asked her.

“Sick at the mess from the break-in, yes. Sick because of the wine, no. What? ”

He motioned her to sit at the table-where he’d miraculously cleared a spot for a plate and fork, as if he owned the place. Next to the napkin, though, was a thick manila envelope. “Don’t touch it,” he said. “I’m taking it to the police this morning. But I wanted you to see it first. It was in my brother’s mailbox this morning.”

She picked up the china cup of coffee at the same time she glanced at the envelope’s contents. And then slapped down the cup abruptly.

“Good grief,” she said.

“I didn’t count it. I grabbed a paper towel so I wouldn’t get my fingerprints on it. But as far as I can tell…”

“These are hundreds of hundred-dollar bills. Holy cow. Holy smokes. There must be thousands of dollars in there.”

“Yeah.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “No note, no nothing to identify the sender. Looks pretty obviously like blackmail money to me. I don’t know why else anyone would be sending Jon cash-not cash like this. And whoever the sender was, apparently he-or she-didn’t know Jon was dead.”

She stared at him in shock.

But Cord wasn’t through talking. “Sophie,” he said quietly, “I need your help. I know the police will do what they can, but I just don’t have total faith in their ability to figure this out-at least fast enough to prevent any more trouble. I have to find out what Jon was up to. I wish it weren’t your problem, but damn it, it is. Once they broke into your place, it became your problem, too. You’re not safe. I don’t know how to make you safe until we’ve got an answer for this.”

Two days could make an amazing difference. Her apartment was full of noise and laughter. Caviar had strategically located himself on top of the living room bookshelf, where he could regard the group of women with a slit-eyed, appalled expression. Down at coffee-table level, the remnants of a pizza, sodas and paper plates covered that space. The floor was more littered with cleaning supplies and trash bags than the cat could survive.

“You guys are being so wonderful,” Sophie said helplessly.

“Oh, shut up, Soph. You’d do the same for us.” Jan, looking like a moon goddess in a tie-dyed silver smock dress, had been the first to show up after work. She’d taken on the job of keeping everyone fed and watered-at least when she wasn’t nosing around Sophie’s bookshelves and drawers and all. “You know, if you’d just give me a budget and some permission, I could turn this place into something else. It’s got gorgeous architecture.”

“I think the last thing Soph is worried about right now is color schemes.” Hillary had popped in after a shift at the hospital. She’d taken off her lab coat, revealing jeans and a white sweater. On her, the outfit looked runway-ready. She’d installed herself in front of Sophie’s computer, and was analyzing what damage the vandal had done to the files and records.

“Well, I want to hear about Jon’s brother.” Penelope, after spending a hard day doing the lobbyist thing-or so she claimed-was leaned over the couch from behind, rubbing Sophie’s neck. Sophie’s neck didn’t actually need rubbing, but it gave Penelope something to do besides work. “Is he as cute as Jon? How much time are you spending with him? What does he think Jon was up to? Is he single?”

“I want to hear what the cops are doing about this break-in.” Jan tried to close up an overfilled box of books. “Foggy Bottom’s supposed to be safe. The real thieves are supposed to be in DC-or on Capitol Hill-not here. It’s scary. You want me to stay here for a few nights, Soph?”

“No, no, I’m fine. But I do appreciate all the help putting it back together. It would have taken me night upon night upon night.” Sophie stood up, realizing all the knots in her neck were actually gone. “Thanks, Penelope. Man, are you great at that.”

“I am,” Penelope agreed with a frank laugh. “Men love a good back rub. It was a skill I acquired early. Anyway, you know what I heard?”

“What?” Jan’s head popped up from her box.

“You know Athena Simpson? The woman senator from Arizona? I heard she broke down when she heard Jon died, closed up the office, just disappeared for a few days.”

“But she’s married,” Sophie said.

Jan exchanged glances with Penelope.

“Cut it out,” Sophie said crossly. “I know married people have affairs. It’s just…she’s a senator.”

“Yeah, well, everyone says her husband’s gay. Not bi. Gay. So I’m not throwing stones if she was sleeping with Jon on the side.”

“I wasn’t throwing stones,” Sophie said. “I just…”

“You’re just going to be naive until the day you die,” Hillary said wryly, coming from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “You had your hard drive copied, Sophie. Completely. And you had two corrupted files on there-but I don’t think they were your work.”

“You could fix the corrupted stuff?”

“Yeah, no sweat. In another life, maybe I’ll do surgery on electronics instead of people. Although, really, Sophie, your backup procedures are first rate. You could have done this.”

“Maybe,” Sophie agreed. “But I thought it would help to have another set of eyes. When I went through it all my current work seemed to be there. And that’s just it, why would someone mess with my computer system if they didn’t take any of the work? For that matter, why would anyone look on here to begin with? Nothing I do is remotely top secret.”

“Yeah, well, in Washington, even the whisper of something wicked is enough to start an avalanche.”

“But not from me. No one could possibly think I was an avalanche starter-Cord!” All four women straightened at the sudden appearance of Cord in the doorway. “I thought you were teaching tonight,” Sophie said swiftly.

“Canceled. In fact, I arranged for a free week, so I could concentrate on my brother’s business. Ladies, I think I remember you all…Jan, Hillary, Penelope…”

Her heart seemed to hiccup. They’d shared kisses now. He’d slept in her room. They’d shared things, laughed together. She refused to be so preposterous as to believe it could be a love thing, but right at that instant, she knew she was in trouble. Heart trouble.

And before those idiotic allusions could seep under her defenses any deeper, she thought fate was helping her out. This was Cord’s second shot at meeting the three women. He’d see how gorgeous they were. How…bru nette. How women-of-the-world. And then he’d stop looking at her as if…well, as if he were interested.