And Then She Was Gone(89)
“Like ‘The Tell-Tale Heart,’” Chandler said.
“Poe, right?”
“Yeah. But this all makes sense only if Michael is guilty. And we don’t know that yet. You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions.”
“Maybe,” Jack said. “But consider how Michael reacted to that van. He thought the van was following him. He’s acting suspicious, just like I did when I felt guilty. And if he really thinks he’s being watched, he’s not going to run around with his mistress out in public. He’d keep a low profile.”
“I still don’t know, Jack. If he’s feeling guilty about something, it’s probably the fact that he’s having an affair. Maybe she’s married.”
Jack made a face.
Chandler’s fingers drummed the dashboard. “And why drive all the way up here just to walk by her?”
“Because he’s too paranoid to stay away from her. Cheaters think everyone else cheats, too. So Michael may worry that she’s stepping out on him. You add that to paranoia from his wife’s murder, and it’s a recipe for crazy.”
“You know what?” Chandler crossed his arms. “I agree with almost everything you think, but that doesn’t give us any proof of anything. Right now, even the affair itself is pure guesswork. All you have to go by is a look.”
Jack’s hands balled into fists. “I can’t think of any way to prove it.”
“Betcha the brunette knows.” Chandler nodded in the direction of the receptionist.
“Probably. Girls talk.”
“Hey!” Chandler turned in his seat to look at Jack. “Go to that detective and have them get a wiretap.”
Jack laughed. “On what grounds? As you pointed out, all I can say right now is that Michael and that woman looked at each other. I’ll sound like an idiot.”
Chandler exhaled.
Jack closed his eyes. The sweet scent from some nearby lilac bushes drifted through the open window.
Chandler cleared his throat. “Are you taking a power nap? What are you doing?”
“Thinking.” Jack sniffed, then opened his eyes. “That just gave me an idea.” He started the car.
“What idea? The wiretaps?”
“Nope.” Jack grinned. “But I think I can prove they’re having an affair.”
Chandler looked doubtful. “You can prove it from a distance, right?”
Jack didn’t answer.
26
Delivery
Forty-five minutes later, Jack pulled the car into the parking lot again—but this time a half dozen balloons floated in the back seat. One drifted forward, and Chandler shoved it back, annoyed.
“I thought that credit card was just for an emergency,” Chandler said.
“This is an emergency. Grab me a pen out of the glove compartment, would you?”
Chandler searched the glove compartment and handed Jack a pen. “You ready to explain what the balloons and flowers are for?”
“They’re bait,” Jack said. “For the blonde.” He pulled the cap off the pen with his teeth, and wrote something on the little card that came with the balloons.
“What are you writing? You don’t know her name,” Chandler said.
Jack smiled. “I don’t need to know it. Here’s the message: I need to see you. I miss you. Love, Michael.” He grinned and shoved the card into its little envelope.
Jack drove the car right up to the front door of the building. He took the bouquet of flowers and the balloons from the back seat and headed inside. Chandler, grumbling about something or other, waited in the car.
The lobby was open and airy, filled with tropical plants and a waterfall wall that flowed into a small koi pond. With the summer sun streaming through the windows, it felt like a rainforest despite the air-conditioning running so high it created a breeze. A contemporary reception desk of glass, metal, and smoky plastic curved into a sweeping design. The interior designer appeared to be a huge fan of Star Trek.
The brunette from the bistro raised an eyebrow as Jack approached.
“Hello.” Jack smiled. “Delivery.”
“Who’s it for?” Her voice was nasal.
Jack reached into his pocket and turned it out: empty. Awkwardly, he shifted the balloons into his other hand, then searched the opposite pocket. He pulled out several scraps of paper.
The brunette tipped her head to the side and huffed.
Jack shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I just got the address.” He took out the envelope. “There’s a card, but no name on it.”
The brunette snatched the card out of his hand, then proceeded to read what Jack had written on the inside. She smiled knowingly. “I know who it’s for. Thanks.” She waved her hand as if she were shooing away a fly, then she turned and placed the flowers and balloons behind her.