We left the dishes on the table and went inside. Liu crossed to the suite’s bar and retrieved her phone.
As she did, I looked around, seeing through the open bedroom door two of the hotel’s robes lying on the bed.
“It’s a little garbled,” Liu said, returning. “And I didn’t start recording until Thomas turned abusive. But you’ll get the gist of it.”
The book editor pushed a button and there was a static hiss through which a male said, “Suzanne, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to gut me? Get revenge? Grow up! You lost out after making big money off me for years. Live with it and don’t be a crazy bitch. I’m telling you, I won’t take this lying down. If you keep trying to smear me, Suzanne, you’ll pay for it. One way or another, you will pay for it.”
Liu turned it off. “Believe me now?”
Tull had not suggested he’d physically harm her, but the tone was threatening. “I do.”
Without warning, the book editor threw her arms around me. “Thank you, Dr. Cross,” she said. “I’ve been so alone, so in my head, I needed someone to believe me, and here you are.”
I was uncomfortable at that point. It got even more creepy when she tried to kiss me.
“Whoa, whoa,” I said, backing up and extricating myself from her arms. “What’s this all about? I’m married. See the ring?”
Liu looked a little angry, then chagrined, and she blushed and turned away. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry. I … I sometimes misinterpret things, and like I said, I’ve been so lonely and in my head. I honestly don’t know why I did that.”
“I don’t know either, and I think it is time I leave.”
As I turned to go, she said frantically, “You won’t look into what I’ve told you?”
“I didn’t say that, Ms. Liu. Goodbye and don’t call me again. If I need to talk to you, I know how to find you.”
CHAPTER 35
AROUND FOUR THAT AFTERNOON, I climbed off an Amtrak Acela train in New York’s Penn Station and got a cab to the Langham, a five-star hotel on Fifth Avenue not far from Central Park. After showing my FBI and DC Metro credentials to the assistant manager, I was given an electronic key to Bree’s room on the sixth floor.
When I knocked, I heard her yell that she did not want turn-down service this evening. I waited and then knocked again, lowered my voice, and said, “Sorry, ma’am, special delivery for Bree Stone?”
I could hear her footsteps coming; the door was wrenched open on the chain and she glared out and said, “What—”
Then her face brightened, and she shut the door to remove the chain, squealing happily, “What are you doing here, Alex?” She pulled open the door and came into my arms.
I squeezed her back. “I’m on my way to Boston to check on a few things. I figured I’d surprise you and catch the first train up in the morning.”
“Mmm,” she said. “Best idea I’ve heard all day.”
Bree led me into a big room with a large desk that she’d pulled over beside a king-size bed that was covered with piles of manila folders. Her laptop was open and glowing, revealing the picture of a woman I almost recognized.
“Give me a second to get things organized,” she said as she closed the laptop.
“I wasn’t thinking of looking,” I said, taking a seat on the couch.
“I know,” she said. “And I want to be sure everything’s secure.” Bree took the files and her laptop and locked them in the hotel room’s safe, then returned and sat on the bed. “How is Jannie doing the day after?”
“Still on a magic-carpet ride,” I said. “You should see the picture and headline they had in the Post’s sports section.”
“I saw it online. What a great action shot of her.”
“Isn’t it?” I said, unable to control the grin on my face. “And the piece said that more girls will commit to Howard now that Jannie has made her decision.”
“Phenomenal. What’s in Boston?”
“An outside shot on the family killings. I don’t think there’s much there, but I feel obligated to try. Also, I need to report a pass a woman made at me.”
Bree’s right eyebrow rose. “A pass?”
“Hug and attempted smooch on her part. It came out of nowhere with zero provocation from me.”
She watched me closely. “Who was this woman?”
“Suzanne Liu,” I said. “She used to be Thomas Tull’s book editor. She called me this morning to say Tull had been threatening her. She claims there is more to the author than meets the eye.”
“Did he threaten her?”
I nodded.
“And what happened then?”
Bree has always been a thorough investigator, so I expected no mercy until she was done with her questions.
“We were supposed to meet for breakfast in a restaurant at the Watergate Hotel,” I said. “But when I got there, she said she was terrified of Tull and wanted me to meet her in her suite for breakfast on the balcony. I said okay.”
Giving me a look, Bree said, “Well, that was dumb.”
I held up my palms. “In the extreme.”
“And what preceded the hug and attempted smooch?”
“She was amped up, said she was spending too much time in her head and was afraid no one would believe her about Tull. After hearing a recording of the threats, I said I believed her. The pass ensued, and I shut her down hard, said I was deeply in love with my wife.”
“Good response,” Bree said, getting up.
“Thank you. She apologized. End of story.”
“End of story,” she said, smiling as she crossed the room to me.
“Do you have plans for dinner?”
“Reservations at Gramercy Tavern at seven thirty,” she said, sitting on my lap.
“Nice,” I said, kissing her. “And in the meantime?”
“Well, I was wondering about that special delivery you promised at the door.”
CHAPTER 36
AS I WALKED THROUGH Boston’s South Station around eleven o’clock the next morning, the pleasant aftereffects of an incredible dinner and a special delivery were still lingering in my mind and making me smile.
Outside, a raw, dank, late-April wind cut through my sport coat and open rain jacket. Shivering, I zipped it up and then ordered an Uber to take me to Cambridge and the Harvard Book Store.
“You work there or something? Harvard?” asked Vic Daloia, the driver, a nice guy in his forties with a thick Boston accent. He had an all-news station playing softly on his radio.
“Just visiting the area,” I said. “You remember the electrocution killings in Boston years ago?”
Daloia sat up straighter. “Sure, I followed that one. And I read that book about it, Electric. Great book. I’m a true-crime buff and he nailed it.”
“Thomas Tull.”
“That’s him. Stickler for details. I like that.”
“I do too,” I said. “I work with the FBI.”
Daloia looked over his shoulder. “I knew you were something like that.”
That made me laugh a little. “Nice to know. Say, is there a way to hire you for the day? Have you drive me around a few places?”