She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her eyes narrowed, and he suspected that inwardly, she was telling him to go to hell. But a few other girls had stopped, noticed him, too. They were all staring, wondering. And then she sighed; she didn’t want to make a scene. She told the girls to go on without her and walked over toward him. But she pursed her lips together, waited to say anything until the other girls had all moved on. Then she said, rather brusquely: “What do you want?”
“Just a few minutes of your time,” he repeated.
“I’m very busy,” she said. “I’m in the middle of a tournament, for heaven’s sake.”
“How’s it going?” he asked her. “The tournament, I mean.”
“I’m winning,” she said huffily.
“Congratulations.”
“That’s premature. There’re nine more holes after lunch.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him, making it clear she had no patience for him or his questions. No use for his congratulations, either.
He was in no capacity to force her to talk to him. So instead, he smiled. Dolores always said you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. “I’m just following up on a few loose ends, that’s all.” He kept his voice light, easy. “I found something valuable, and I thought it might belong to you.”
He pulled the hairpin out of his jacket pocket and held it out to her, in his palm.
“That’s not mine,” she said quickly. “I’m afraid you’ve driven all the way down here for nothing, Detective.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, her eyes remained right squarely on his face. She appeared to be telling the truth.
“Are you sure?” His own voice faltered a little. He hadn’t exactly expected that Jordan would claim the hairpin, but he’d expected to get a sense she was lying to him, the same way he had with Daisy and Catherine. That maybe Jordan’s lie would reveal something about the other lies. But Jordan… appeared to be telling the truth? There was all that business in the past with her and the cheating scandal. Nick Carraway had told him she was an incurable liar. Out of all three of the women, Frank had been apt to trust Jordan the least, going in. “You’ve never seen this before?” he prodded.
She leaned in to examine it closely. “Well… it might be Daisy’s.”
“Daisy Buchanan’s?” He repeated her name, while trying to make sense of everything in his head. If it was true, and the hairpin was Daisy’s, wasn’t Jordan supposed to be her closest friend? Why would she tell him the truth and potentially incriminate Daisy?
“I guess I couldn’t tell you for sure,” Jordan was saying now. “But it looks an awful lot like the hairpins I helped Tom pick out for her wedding present…” Her voice trailed off and she seemed to be remembering something, in another time.
“Well,” he said now. “I appreciate your honesty.” He did, even if it also confused the hell out of him.
“I don’t know why you’re fixating on it, though,” Jordan said. “Daisy was at parties at Jay’s house all summer. She could’ve dropped it anytime.” She barely finished that thought when she turned, began to walk off toward the clubhouse to join her teammates for lunch.
“Miss Baker,” he called after her. “One more question.”
She whipped her head around and cast him an icy stare. Men had certainly withered from less. “Did you really move the ball?” he asked her.
Every paper said she had. Her first professional golf tournament, she’d been in the lead, but supposedly she’d moved the ball and had been thrown out of the tournament for cheating. At that point, she’d retreated to New York, and that’s what had eventually put her there last summer with Daisy and Catherine, Nick Carraway and Jay Gatsby. Yet, here she was, back on the tour now. If she’d cheated, why had they let her back? And if she was an incurable liar, as Nick had told him, why was she the only one who seemed to be telling him the truth?
She chewed on her bottom lip a little, like she was considering whether or not to answer him or to simply walk away. But then she said, “What do you think, Detective?”
“I think…” What did he think? Jordan was tough and smart and here she was today, winning the tournament on her own. “I think maybe you didn’t,” he said.
She screwed her face into a funny half smile and she nodded. And then just like that, she turned and ran off toward the clubhouse.