Threads of Suspicion(91)
“We will.”
He sounded less stressed than he had some days ago, which was a good sign. She’d be extra careful when in conversation with Maggie tonight.
She moved her backpack from the chair and pulled over the box of photo albums. They would get a break in this case, though probably not as dramatic as with Saul’s. But something would turn up, and the answers would fall open at the right page like a book. She was ready for that moment.
Evie brought up a playlist so that they could listen to Maggie during the drive to her home. “She’s got talent,” Evie said. “However Maggie’s managed the dynamics of her career, she’s done an excellent job of deploying that talent wisely. I love both her singing and her lyrics.”
“It’s a gift. One she’s continually thrilled by,” David replied. “She loves hearing a song she’s written come together as a finished piece. It’s like a painter completing a portrait or a pitcher throwing a no-hitter game. That I did this delight when something excellent gets crafted.”
“Any advice before meeting her?”
David smiled. “Be yourself. She’ll like you. She’s got a soft spot for cops. Especially me.” They both laughed.
They were soon driving through the exclusive neighborhood of Barrington. David entered the drive, punched in the security code, and the gates opened. A silver sedan was parked in front of the garage, and he pulled in beside it. “Would you relax, Evie? She’s a nice woman.”
“I’m sure she is. But this is her lovely home, and she sings before tens of thousands of people—”
“It’s her day job.”
Evie laughed at David’s comeback, forcing herself to shake off the nerves. She saw lights through the windows on the main level, artwork visible on the walls as they approached the front door.
David used his key, and music from overhead met them, not so loud as to be overpowering, but at a volume to delight as a clear voice sang along. He reset security. “We’re here, Maggie,” he called.
The singing stopped, and they heard footsteps skipping down the stairs. “You’re early! That’s great.”
She launched herself at David with a confidence she would be caught, and she was swung around in a hug and hello. “I’m loving the house, David. And it’s so nice to be back here!”
“Glad to hear it, Maggie.” David set her back on her feet, his arm around her shoulders. “Maggie, this is Evie Blackwell. Please be nice—she’s a bit nervous about meeting you.”
Maggie laughed and offered a hand. Not a beautiful woman, Maggie was more comfortably pretty, with a real smile rather than simply polite. “Welcome, Evie.”
“It’s a pleasure, Maggie.” The woman was in jeans, the hole in one knee from wear, not fashion. The shirt was equally loved, a blue cotton with a fire-station logo, faded from many washings. Evie felt overdressed and let herself relax. “I’ve been listening to a great deal of your music lately. You have a lovely voice, and your lyrics capture my head and my heart.”
Maggie beamed her appreciation. “Thank you, Evie. It was God’s surprise to my family. The rest of them can’t carry a tune.” The three laughed together.
Maggie turned to David, grabbed his hand. “Have you eaten? Say you haven’t even if you have because I’m hoping you’ll cook. You just missed the hordes, which you probably don’t mind all that much. Ashley has been helping me hang the artwork, and she just went to meet Greg at the airport. The makeup and hair crews just left—they’re bringing on new Chicago-based assistants,” she explained, “and needed a practice session before tomorrow’s event. We’ve settled on blue for my gown. It’s been like the decision of the decade to hear them wrestle that one through. Rehearsal is at one p.m. for sound. The band’s already at the hotel and swear they’re settled in nicely. With all that going on, someone forgot to mention dinner, and it’s dawned on me I’m starving. It’s like ten p.m. in New York. I’ve got two hours of energy left, and then I’m going to wilt like a lily without water.”
David smiled at the rundown. “So long as you’re not fussy about the menu, I’ll figure something out.”
She patted his chest. “Thank you. And since I know better than to ask about your workday when it’s only been over for like ten minutes, I’ll leave it that you look very tired. You can tell me why after we eat.”
Evie caught David’s glance before he answered and read its meaning easily enough. Don’t disagree with what I’m about to say. “I’ll think about that, Maggie.”