“Who says I had sex with her? And I didn’t kill her.”
“Some guys kill women who are pregnant by them.”
“But she had already terminated the pregnancy. So where’s the motive to kill her?”
Stamos looked at him funny. “I . . . You . . . I guess you’re right about that.”
He looked out the window and bit into a celery stick.
“What else did the cops want to talk about?” she asked.
“The usual stuff. Alibis, polygraphs. They lied to me to try to get me to confess.”
“How did they even know to talk to you?” asked Stamos.
“I’m sure they’re talking to lots of people.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”
“Did you get a strange email the day they found Sara’s body?”
She sat forward, tense once more. “Strange email? No, I didn’t. You asked me that before. Did you get one? You mentioned it talked about details of Sara’s death. What exactly did it say?”
“I think it was just somebody trolling or something,” he said vaguely. “I couldn’t really understand it. It was all over the place. And I have no idea who sent it.”
Stamos didn’t look like she believed him. He decided to change the subject before she pushed him further on it.
“Someone I talked to said there were no suits on the fifty-second floor that morning.”
She stared at him, puzzled. “There should have been.”
“I know. Sara’s office was on that floor. But there was a seminar at the Ritz that morning for the M and A Division. All hands on deck. And the support staff don’t show until nine.”
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“Just that it’s either a coincidence that there was a seminar that morning. Or it wasn’t.”
She processed this and came away looking even more stricken.
He said, “I was in here having lunch on Saturday. Brad Cowl was here with some of his usual posse.”
“I’m surprised you would do that. I’m surprised you’re here now.”
“Hell, I’m probably not going to make the cut. So why not enjoy a few good free meals until they give me the boot?”
“You sound like a prisoner awaiting execution,” she noted.
“And maybe some people would be fine with that.”
She didn’t comment on this jarring statement. “Why did you mention Cowl?”
“Because he gave me a look that I can’t explain. I mean, why would the guy even know who I am?”
“You’re a rookie, Travis. And he knows it, even if you think the guy doesn’t notice the newbies. Brad Cowl lives and breathes this place. And he was probably pissed to see you in here. You’re supposed to be eating crackers at your desk and busting your ass to make him more money. So you got the look.”
“What’s he really like?”
“How should I know?” she said.
“Come on. You’re a star, Jennifer. Don’t sell yourself short. And Cowl is a smart guy. He takes care of his stars. So you must know him better than most at this place.”
Her response was unexpected and chilling. In a lowered voice she said, “You saw us, didn’t you?”
“What!”
“That bullshit explanation about calling me ‘sweet cheeks.’ ” She leaned forward and spoke in an even lower voice. “You were in the building that night. You didn’t leave your phone behind. You went up to the fifty-second floor. And saw us. And you’re here trying to, I don’t know, blackmail me? Or make me feel like shit. Or both.”
“If I knew what the hell you were talking about, I’d answer you. But I don’t.”
She gave him a patronizing look and he answered it with one of bewilderment. He didn’t know if it carried the day or not. He sort of doubted it. Stamos hadn’t gotten to where she was by being thick-headed.
But maybe I’m thicker than a log, since my security card would not only show I entered the building that night at a certain time, it also would show I went to the fifty-second floor at the same time they were doing their thing on the desk. Cowl must have found that out and told Stamos. And she would have told him about my “sweet cheeks” comment. That explains the evil eye from the guy and this confrontation with her.
She stood. “You know, you might want to try the truth for a change.”
Devine felt like saying, Look who’s talking. But what would have been the point?
She walked out, leaving him staring moodily out the window at the bright sky.