“She said it might be worth going to see. That I might want to check it out.”
“So she had seen it. Which theater was it?”
“I forget. Somewhere on Broadway. And recently. But you really can’t believe that a stupid play had something to do with her killing herself?”
“It’s not a stupid play. Samuel Beckett wrote it, and he later won the Nobel Prize for literature. Are you sure she didn’t tell you more than that about her interest in it?”
Stamos looked uncertain. “I think she wanted to, but . . . she never came around to telling me. I . . . tried to get her to fill me in. But . . .”
“But what?”
“I don’t know, she seemed . . . scared.” She looked up at him. “Does that make any sense?”
“Maybe it did to her,” he said thoughtfully. “Why exactly did you want to talk to me?”
“About Sara, like I said.”
“I think you have something else on your mind.”
She looked nervously at him. “You were at the office late last night.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I asked the security guard later after you left and I slipped away from the ambulance guys. I went back to the building. He said you had come inside earlier, right after I did.”
“I didn’t see him.”
“He was just coming back from making his rounds. He saw you, but you didn’t see him.”
“Okay, so?”
“He told me you left right after I did. He thought . . . I mean he didn’t say it, but I believe he thought you and I had . . . you know, gone up there to . . .”
Devine sat back. Okay, here we go.
“I left my phone in my cubicle and went back to get it. Is that a crime?”
Her response was immediate and direct. “I was in there a lot longer than it took for you to get your phone.”
Yes you were. “And while I was there I logged on and did some work. I didn’t even know you were there, but that’s what you were doing, right? Catching up on some work?”
“Y-yes, that’s right. A report I was working on.”
“Well, good for the goose, good for the gander, right?”
She gave him a searching look and he hoped he had passed the test. Or rather Cowl’s test. Because this further explained the look Brad Cowl had given him in the dining hall earlier. And it also was the reason she had wanted to meet with him.
“When you left last night, you called me ‘sweet cheeks.’ ”
Here we go. Round two.
“It was shitty and degrading. I guess the adrenaline was pumping after the fight and I turned into a stupid punk trying to act big. I used to call the girls in high school that, and I wasn’t referring to their faces. Thought it was cool. I was a jerk. I’m really sorry.”
Her searching look faded and she looked down. “Apology accepted.”
Devine rose, opened his wallet, and said, “I need to grab the train home, and then catch up on some sleep and ice my aches and pains. What do I owe you for the beers?”
She looked up at him. “I invited you for drinks. So I got it.” As he put his wallet away she said, “So, did you kill anybody over there?”
“That was sort of the point,” answered Devine.
He headed to the subway, leaving the woman alone with her margarita, chips, and guac.
And doubts.
About me.
And maybe about herself, too.
CHAPTER
17
THE SMOKE-AND-COFFEE CAR was parked out in front of Devine’s place, and Detective Hancock had the driver’s door open. He was sitting sideways in the seat with his feet on the pavement. He looked up as Devine walked into view.
Hancock stood. As he did, his jacket swung open, revealing a gun in a belt clip holster.
“You prefer the Glock to the Sig?” asked Devine as he drew nearer.
Hancock glanced down in surprise. “You can tell just from the butt of the gun?”
“I can tell from a lot of things.”
“Army stuff coming through again, huh?”
“Army green pours through every pore I have. What’s up?”
Hancock focused on his face. “Whoa, what the hell happened there?”
“Playing pickup basketball at the high school over there and fell flat on my face trying to do stuff I don’t have the skill to do against kids half my age and a lot better than I’ll ever be. Looks worse than it is.”
“Right. Leave that shit to the youngsters. I have some follow-ups. Got a minute?”
“And if I said I’d rather get some shut-eye?” said Devine.