‘‘Oh, yes I can.’’
A pause. ‘‘Get down on your knees, then,’’ Nina said.
Instead, he got up and rifled through his jacket pocket, which was hanging on a kitchen chair.
He came back and knelt in front of her. ‘‘Nina, will you marry me? I love you and I want to be with you forever.’’ He popped open a black silk box. Inside, sparkling orange in the firelight, was the largest diamond solitaire Nina had ever seen.
She raised her head up and looked into his gray eyes. There was a lot of hope there.
‘‘But I’m afraid!’’ she said.
‘‘I’m terrified.’’ But very gently, he took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger. ‘‘A perfect fit,’’ he said. ‘‘We were meant for each other. So what’s it to be?’’
‘‘Yes! The answer is yes!’’ She threw her arms around him. ‘‘And Collier—why, this ring is magnificent! You’re magnificent! You planned all this?’’
‘‘From the minute I saw you again, I hoped for it.’’ He pulled her into a long kiss.
Eventually, they ended up on the couch, sitting close together. He covered Nina’s bare legs with a soft afghan. ‘‘Now, the logistics,’’ he said. ‘‘Think anyone’s open at this hour?’’
‘‘Are you serious? I mean, it’s past midnight. And we just got engaged.’’
‘‘I hate long engagements, don’t you?’’
‘‘You’re right. What are we waiting for?’’ Nina twisted her hand, slipping the ring up and down, watching it shoot glitter around the room. ‘‘We could go to Reno and just do it. The registrar is open twenty-four hours a day, every day, including Christmas.’’
‘‘You checked?’’
‘‘A client told me.’’ Misty Patterson had told her that. Misty and her ill-fated husband had been married at a chapel at the Reno Hilton. ‘‘We could do it at the Reno Hilton,’’ she said aloud.
‘‘I think I have one clean suit in the closet. And I have a collection of silver dollars I’ve been saving for a lucky day.’’
‘‘Wear your sweater,’’ Nina said. ‘‘I like it.’’
‘‘But—Bob?’’
‘‘He’s not here, and the time is now. He likes you. He’ll be relieved at not having to go to a wedding.’’
‘‘You should call him.’’
‘‘Good idea. It’s about nine A.M. there, I think.’’ She got out the phone and called Germany. Kurt’s answering machine came on again. Bob was the only one who could have talked her out of it.
‘‘No luck,’’ she said. ‘‘What about your mother?’’
‘‘Afterwards,’’ he said. ‘‘First thing in the morning, then? No more talk?’’
‘‘You ever noticed how talking takes the life out of things?’’ Nina said.
They got up late. ‘‘Now you’ve slept,’’ Collier said. He was drying off in the bathroom. ‘‘You’re sane again. So?’’
‘‘So, I’m still crazy.’’
‘‘You’re sure?’’
‘‘Very sure.’’
‘‘Let’s get going, then, before another storm hits.’’
‘‘You will have to wait just a minute while I try on everything in my wardrobe.’’ She hurried him out of the room and began to pick through her closet, settling on a soft cream wool dress that floated down from her hips. She had bought it once in the midst of an amnesia attack about the fact that that sort of dress did not belong in her sort of office. She was very glad she had hung on to it, thinking someday she would wear it to a wedding. Humming, she brushed her hair, tried a few ways of pinning it, and decided to let it float, too, which it did, all the way down her back in one big fluff.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting patiently.
They took Collier’s Subaru. Stopping at the florist shop near Nina’s office, they picked out white and red roses, which the florist deftly fashioned into a bouquet. In Reno, they stopped at the county clerk’s office and registered and paid a fee to the indifferent clerks. They escaped with their piece of paper.
‘‘You can still turn back,’’ Collier said as they walked into the shopping mall under the hotel.
‘‘Do
you
want to turn back?’’
‘‘No. It was only a rhetorical question. Covering my bases in case you regret it someday. I can say that I gave you every chance.’’
‘‘Stop, then. Come on, it’s around the corner.’’
In the basement, just as Misty had described, a store-front studio advertised that it was the Celebration Wedding Chapel. A young lady with stiff hair sat in a small office in front.
‘‘Chapel fee, sixty dollars, plus thirty for the minister’s fee, payable in cash,’’ she said. ‘‘Will you be needing witnesses?’’
They looked at each other. ‘‘We forgot those,’’ Collier said.
‘‘Thirty dollars apiece. Myself and the photographer. Would you like pictures?’’
They arranged for some pictures. Fifty dollars.
‘‘Flowers? A ring?’’
‘‘Nope. We’re all set,’’ Collier said, looking at Nina. They sat down together and held hands while the lady fetched the minister and the photographer. Forever after, Nina thought, taking a deep breath, she would remember that moment and her mad happiness when she smelled roses.
‘‘It’s not just because of Sandy and Joseph?’’ Collier whispered. ‘‘A copycat crime?’’
‘‘No. And it’s not because I’m lonely. It’s because of you that I’m getting married,’’ Nina said, and he patted her hand. ‘‘I’m starting to feel a bit emotional,’’ she added. ‘‘This is a big deal, Collier.’’
‘‘I’ll never leave you,’’ he said.
A CD started up and began playing ‘‘Here Comes the Bride.’’ They walked past the empty pews to the minister, a white-haired gentleman in a blue suit holding a Bible. Behind them, the young lady and the young photographer sat down.
‘‘We are gathered here to—what’s your name again, honey?’’ He had a pronounced Southern accent. Behind him a yellow and blue stained glass panel made it seem like church.
Some stray thought, about church, or her childhood, or her mother, had uncorked Nina and she started to weep. She just couldn’t stay cool. Her mascara was coming down in torrents.
‘‘Nina Fox Reilly,’’ Collier said.
‘‘To join this man, Collier John Hallowell, and this woman, Nina Fix Reilly, in holy matrimony . . .’’
She couldn’t stop bawling. The minister offered his handkerchief. His embarrassed pink face was only inches from hers. ‘‘Do you, Nina, take Collier to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold . . . in sickness and in health, until death do you part?’’
‘‘I—I . . .’’ she blubbered. Floods of tears were punctuated by the occasional loud gasping sob. All she could think of was how she had promised herself never to say the ‘‘obey’’ part. Had the minister said it? She was making so much noise it was impossible to tell.
They were waiting, but she couldn’t catch her breath to say the words. ‘‘Would you like me to say it for you, honey?’’ the minister whispered.
‘‘I do!’’ she wailed.
‘‘And you, Collier, do you take this woman, Nina Fix Reilly—’’
‘‘Fox!’’
‘‘Nina Fox Reilly, to be your lawful wedded wife . . .’’
‘‘I do,’’ Collier said, quite cool-headed, considering the circumstances.
‘‘The ring?’’
Nina began to wiggle the ring off her finger but Collier put up a hand to stop her. A second box, this one in velvet, appeared in his hand. He opened it. Inside, curled together like lovers, two slim gold bands nestled. ‘‘One for me,’’ he whispered. He was looking at her to see if she liked them. She liked them so much that it brought on more joyful sobbing.
‘‘Put it on her finger,’’ the minister finally suggested.
Collier lifted her limp left hand and slipped the gold ring on right beside the diamond. He handed her the other ring, and helped her to put it on his hand, clasping her hands in his, steadying her.
‘‘Ah now pronounce you man and wife,’’ the minister said as soon as he safely could. On an invisible cue, the CD broke into the triumphant Dah da dadada da da da da-dada da DAH song. The minister beamed. Collier held her up and she wiped her eyes on the handkerchief. ‘‘I’m s-so happy,’’ she said brokenly.
The lady came up and gave her a tape cassette. ‘‘Congratulations and here’s your precious memory,’’ she said.
‘‘Thank you,’’ said Nina, her voice quavering.
‘‘I’m afraid we have to clear out, now folks. There’s another couple waiting.’’ The photographer took a photo of the four of them, the lady and the minister still beaming in back, Nina smiling tremulously, feeling the makeup smearing on her face but not caring at all, standing with Collier in front.
On the way out, she dumped the cassette in the nearest trash can. The only sound would be sobbing, anyway. Collier carefully folded up the marriage certificate and put it in his wallet. The instant photos he carried in one hand. ‘‘Feeling better?’’ he asked her.
‘‘Yes.’’ She removed the last of her mascara with a long wipe.
‘‘You like the rings?’’
‘‘You know I do.’’
‘‘We can always go together and choose something else.’’
‘‘No,’’ she said, looking at the two rings that fit so snugly together on her finger, and then admiring the gold band that now encircled his. ‘‘I love them. And Collier, you are an amazing man. I never expected this, any of this. Being married to you is going to be a real adventure.’’
‘‘Can I kiss the bride? It didn’t seem like such a good idea in there.’’ He put his arms around her and she murmured into his shoulder, ‘‘I’m sorry I cried. I’m such an idiot. I always cry when I feel really happy.’’
‘‘Let’s go have a drink and drop a few hundred,’’ Collier said. ‘‘It’s a casino, after all. You don’t feel sorry? About not having a party like Sandy?’’
‘‘This is our party, Collier,’’ Nina said. ‘‘A private wedding, an intimate one, for just the two of us. Nothing else matters now, except that we are together.’’ She slipped her arm through his, absorbing the strength that the two of them had.
‘‘Feel like a winner?’’
‘‘Roulette,’’ Nina said. ‘‘That’s how good I feel.’’
‘‘Red and odd.’’
‘‘Number three.’’ They went up the elevator.
They spent the night at the Reno Hilton on a round bed, enjoying the kitsch and the champagne provided by the management. Nina finally got home around four in the afternoon and invited herself and Hitchcock over to Matt’s for dinner.
‘‘So we went to Reno and did it,’’ she finished. ‘‘I called Dad before I came over. He’s fine with it.’’ Matt didn’t bat an eyelid. He got up, went into the kitchen, and came back with another Coors. He popped it, poured some down his gullet, and set it on the table.
‘‘So what do you think?’’ Nina said, spooning a second helping of peas onto her plate.
‘‘Can he chop wood? Can he shovel snow and put on his own tire chains? Can he unfreeze the pipes and most importantly, can he play stud poker?’’ said Matt.
‘‘I’m sure he can.’’
Andrea said, ‘‘My turn. Can he pick up his own socks, cook something besides frozen pizza, and keep the TV off when guests come over?’’
‘‘Absolutely.’’
‘‘Then bring him on over, and we promise we won’t tell him about your teenage years,’’ Matt said. That was it. They were so accepting, so kind.
‘‘I bet you were nervous about calling Bob,’’ Andrea said.
‘‘Oh, he knew. He’d been around us quite a bit. I’d talked to him before. He’s having such a good time with Kurt that I doubt it sank in right away. We’ll do some adjusting when he gets back. The thing is, though— Collier is great with him. He really loves kids.’’
‘‘How about Jack?’’
‘‘Jack?’’
‘‘You know, the guy you were married to for five years. I bet he’d want to know. ’’
When Jack walked out on her only a few years before, she had thought she would never recover. She could look back on that now and realize she’d passed through it, passed through the shock and grief and loss and come out the other side. As Wish had said, people leave, but if you’re lucky, new people come.
‘‘I’ll be darned,’’ she said. ‘‘I forgot about Jack. I’ll call him tomorrow.’’
‘‘I guess Collier will move in with you,’’ Andrea said. ‘‘Since he’s renting.’’ She started gathering up the plates. Matt got up to help. Hitchcock followed them, hoping a crumb would fall. Troy had already left to work on his homework. Even little Brianna had some sort of project that required many sheets of construction paper.
‘‘In the next month or two. There’s no hurry. He likes our cabin a lot,’’ Nina said.
‘‘Have you told him about your cooking disability yet?’’
‘‘Very funny. Don’t worry. He knows I cook like Julia Child practices law.’’
Matt stopped on his way to the kitchen. He looked thoughtful. ‘‘I can’t keep up with you, Sis. I never have been able to. You’ve always had this way of pushing right through everything when you decide to do it. You move in a blur, too fast to follow.’’
‘‘It wasn’t too fast this time, Matt. There were a lot of obstacles, challenges, you know? We couldn’t let the pressure separate us. We knew there would be a whole —I guess the word is, realignment of those challenges if we were married. Everyone can see that separation isn’t an option now. It changes things for Collier at work.’’
‘‘I was wondering about that,’’ Andrea said.
‘‘It’ll just have to work itself out. That’s what I mean. We’re married now and the machine’s going to have to burp and absorb the new configuration and move on.’’
‘‘You are fearless, Nina.’’
‘‘That’s not it. I just feel like you have to make your life, not just let it happen.’’
22
ON MONDAY MORNING after court, Nina told Sandy, Artie, and Wish about her marriage at the same time, since Artie had stopped in to talk about the motion to exclude evidence anyway.
She told them in an underhanded way. They had assembled in the conference room that nippy morning with their coffee mugs. Artie had just finished telling her that the motion looked good. She had just finished telling him and Sandy about her trip to Pyramid Lake and Tony’s Las Vegas lead on Heidi. Wish had a pad of paper and seemed to be assiduously taking notes.
‘‘We do want to find her?’’ Sandy was asking, dubious.
‘‘Oh, yes. If Heidi would just recant her story, the prosecution case would look like London after the blitz. Henry McFarland would put a stop to the whole thing. There would be no hearing, and that’s exactly what I want, to have all charges against Jim dropped without a hearing.’’
‘‘You don’t think the judge would find probable cause?’’ asked Artie.
‘‘A judge can find probable cause in a can of beets, if he wants to. There’s always that risk. Better to keep it away from him altogether.’’
‘‘Sounds good to me,’’ said Artie. He noticed Wish scribbling away. ‘‘Don’t tell me you’re writing down that stuff about the beets,’’ he said to the boy.
Wish blushed to his roots. ‘‘No.’’
‘‘What is it then?’’
Wish tried to whisk the paper away, but Artie showed he still had some speed left in him. He lunged and tore the page from Wish’s hand. He unfolded and smoothed it, then held it up for all to see. There, in the middle, with the beginning of excellent detail, was a picture of a tin can with ‘‘Beets’’ marked on it.
‘‘Nice work, Michelangelo,’’ Artie said.
‘‘Glad to see you’re paying attention, Wish,’’ said Sandy.
Wish took his paper back and moved farther down the table, out of Artie’s reach.
‘‘Judge Flaherty’s going to feel some heat because this is the second time around,’’ Nina went on. ‘‘If he gives in to it, then the whole trial sequence begins. Jim can’t afford it, financially or emotionally. It would cost a fortune to fight.’’
‘‘You’re an ambitious young lady,’’ Artie said. ‘‘It’s not enough to win the hearing, you want to prevent it from even taking place. But what if you find her and she doesn’t change a word?’’
‘‘Then we’re no worse off, because she can’t testify since they’re married. Speaking of being married, I am.’’
Sandy, who was also taking notes, jotted on for a minute. Artie seemed not to have heard.
Wish put down his pencil very slowly and stared at her.
‘‘We could take his shares of stock as security, so we’re sure we get paid,’’ Sandy said. ‘‘Or did you marry a millionaire?’’
‘‘Huh?’’ Artie said. ‘‘What?’’
‘‘No, he’s not a millionaire. I married Collier Hallowell.’’
Artie said, ‘‘You’re kidding, right? This is a big joke on me for coming in late, is that it?’’
‘‘In Reno. On Saturday.’’
‘‘Paul’s gonna love this,’’ Sandy said, shaking her head.
‘‘Whoa,’’ said Wish admiringly. ‘‘Now that’s a move I bet the police never expected! Smart thinking!’’
‘‘But—Nina, really. How’s this going to impact the case?’’ Artie said. ‘‘I mean, congratulations!’’
‘‘I’m not so sure it’s a smart move, it’s just the one I wanted to make,’’ Nina said to Wish, smiling. ‘‘And Artie, I don’t know how it’s going to affect the case. It’s more than the case. It’s my whole life, you know? A whole new perspective.’’
‘‘You really did get married? We gotta celebrate,’’ Artie said. ‘‘Great news.’’ He gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek.
Sandy began gathering up her notes. ‘‘I’ll go call Jim and have him come in,’’ she said. ‘‘And I’m gonna have a hair appointment at that time.’’
‘‘You do that. I’ll disclose it to him, and then I’ve done what’s required. There’s no conflict problem if he agrees he wants me to stay on.’’
Sandy went into the outer office and began clicking on her keyboard.
‘‘She didn’t even congratulate you,’’ Artie said. ‘‘She’s damn rude.’’
‘‘She’ll come around,’’ Nina said, looking after her. ‘‘She was rooting for somebody else.’’
As the time for Jim’s appointment rolled around, Nina began feeling an uncomfortable mixture of defiance, embarrassment, and distaste. She had no idea how he might react to her news. Maybe he would feel that it gave him an edge.
The one thing that she didn’t want was for Jim to fire her in anger. The prelim was coming up again and he needed her, and it would hurt his case for him to fire her. Even if he did the firing, it would be as a result of her action, and she would feel that she had abandoned him. She felt her duty even more strongly since she actually wanted out of the case in many ways.
She worked on a motion in her purse-snatching case until three o’clock and was just handing Sandy the tape for transcription when Jim came into the outer office.
‘‘Your three o’clock,’’ Sandy said on the intercom. Nina had closed the door to the outer office.
‘‘Sandy, are you really going to leave?’’ Nina said into the phone.
‘‘Come to think of it, I can get my hair done tomorrow. Or next month.’’
‘‘Thanks. I’d feel better if you stay in the outer office.’’ She didn’t say why she might feel better.
A knock. Sandy opened the door and ushered Jim in. Wearing the Tommy Hilfiger jacket again, he looked more like an ad in
Esquire
than an unemployed murder suspect. Sitting down in the right-hand chair, he pulled it up to the side of the desk, as always edging ever so slightly too close.
‘‘So?’’ he said. ‘‘News?’’
‘‘Thanks for coming down today, Jim.’’ In response to this mass of masculinity sitting so damn close to her that she could feel his breath brushing the hair on her arm, she pushed her chair back from the desk.
‘‘I wanted to talk to you about some personal news. Something that’s happened . . . in my life,’’ Nina continued.
He looked apprehensive. She had never before mentioned her personal life, and he must know any talk of it was bound to mean bad news for him. ‘‘Like what?’’
‘‘Well, uh, I guess I’ll just say it. I got married this weekend.’’ She kept her face cordial, professional.
He cocked his head at this, as though he didn’t trust his ears. Then he tortured his lips into a smile. ‘‘Now that’s disappointing,’’ he said. ‘‘I was going to marry you myself. Ha, ha.’’
Now that was a truly weird statement. If it was a joke, it was an alarming one. ‘‘As you probably know,’’ Nina said, more formally than she’d intended, ‘‘if something comes up that has even the appearance of a possible conflict of interest, an attorney has to discuss it with the client so that the client has full knowledge of it.’’
‘‘Huh,’’ he said. ‘‘Well. Although I’m very, very disappointed in you, Nina, I don’t think that makes for a conflict of interest, does it?’’ He still wore that strange, lopsided smile. Suddenly she recognized the expression. He looked like a man caught doing something squalid, something despicable. With increasing unease, Nina said, ‘‘Why are you disappointed, Jim?’’
‘‘Oh, I suppose I thought . . .’’ He let the sentence dangle.
She decided she didn’t want to know after all and left it dangling. ‘‘I need to tell you this because the person I married happens to be the deputy district attorney prosecuting your case.’’ Feeling stifled, she got up to open the door to the outer office, bracing herself for his response. As she passed him, Jim reached out and caught her arm.
‘‘What in the hell were you thinking! He’s our enemy, Nina! You married our enemy? What does that make you?’’ She took her arm away and opened the door, then returned to her desk, wondering how to handle his reaction.
‘‘It doesn’t change me at all, Jim, or our relationship. I’m still your lawyer, still totally committed to helping you. I’m telling you this because I have an ethical responsibility to tell you. But I want you to understand very clearly. I’m a professional, and I keep my home life separate from my personal life.’’
‘‘That’s impossible,’’ he said flatly.
‘‘I don’t agree.’’
‘‘How long has this been going on?’’ he asked.
He made her feel like a perfidious wife. ‘‘We’ve known each other quite some time.’’
‘‘All this time you were seeing him. You never even mentioned it to me. Don’t you think I had a right to know you were sleeping with the enemy?’’
Nina sighed. ‘‘It was only a friendship for a long time. Then rather suddenly we found we were—’’
‘‘Did you talk to him about my case?’’
‘‘I would never, never talk to him about anything confidential, Jim. Never. Do you understand? I never have and I never will.’’
‘‘How do I know that?’’
‘‘Because I’m telling you.’’
‘‘It’s completely unacceptable.’’
‘‘What’s unacceptable?’’
‘‘You marrying him.’’
‘‘Well, it’s a done deal. If it really is completely unacceptable to you, I’ll ask the judge for a continuance on the hearing to give you time to find another lawyer. But I hope you don’t do that.’’
He clapped his hand to his forehead. ‘‘I’m screwed!’’ he cried. ‘‘Completely screwed. You screwed me. I can’t believe it. Things were going along so well.’’
‘‘No, Jim, I—’’
‘‘How could you do this to me?’’ He was shouting. Sandy appeared in the doorway. ‘‘Calm down, Jim. Sit down and let’s talk about this. I’m quite shocked at your—’’
‘‘You’re shocked?
You’re
shocked? What about me!’’
‘‘Stop that shouting!’’ Sandy said, her deepest, loudest voice roiling into the room over his.
Jim whirled around to face her. ‘‘Get out of my face!’’ he shouted. Sandy stood her ground, solid as a tank in tennis shoes.
‘‘I leave when you twiddle the volume down to low,’’ she said.
Nina said, ‘‘Look, Jim, take some time. Think about it, and then call me. I’m sorry I surprised you with this, but I had to tell you. I hope you can realize it’s not as bad as you think. It doesn’t really change a thing between us.’’
He looked at her over his shoulder. She didn’t like the look. ‘‘I’ll say only one thing,’’ he told her. ‘‘You’re my lawyer. You’re staying my lawyer. You’re not passing me off on that worn-out turkey in a cheap suit.’’ He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair and took a step toward Sandy.
She stepped aside, holding the door for him.
Exit irate client.
Nina held on to the side of the desk. ‘‘Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,’’ she said. ‘‘Check down the hall, will you?’’
Sandy moved to the outer door and opened it. ‘‘No sign of him.’’ She locked it, came back in, and sat down in the chair Jim had just vacated. ‘‘You okay?’’ she said.
Nina rubbed her cheek. ‘‘I never dreamed he’d take it so hard. He acts as if I stabbed him in the back.’’
The phone rang. They looked at it. ‘‘If that’s Jim calling me from around the corner or something,’’ Nina said, ‘‘tell him I am indisposed.’’
Sandy picked up the receiver and held it as if a jellyfish lived in there. ‘‘Oh, hello, Tony,’’ she said. ‘‘Yeah, she’s right here. Most of her.’’ She handed Nina the phone.
‘‘Nina? Hey, I talked to Dick and Dottie here in Vegas. Heidi is Dick’s niece. They hadn’t heard from her in fifteen years, since she was a kid. She called about three weeks ago and said could she borrow the trailer, and they told her where the key was. They thought she was still there. She hasn’t called them since.’’
‘‘Is there a phone in the trailer?’’ Nina asked.
‘‘No. They use the gas station when they’re up there.’’
‘‘They think she’s still there? That’s all they know?’’
‘‘That’s it. What now?’’
‘‘Did you check the trailer?’’
‘‘I tried. I still couldn’t get in the yard because You Know Who never leaves his place next door. But I don’t believe Heidi’s around. I staked it out until four in the morning. No lights, no sign of the Tioga she was supposed to be driving.’’
She let out a breath she seemed to have been holding since Jim first arrived. ‘‘Better come on back, Tony. Can you stop in tomorrow?’’
‘‘Sure. About eleven?’’
‘‘See you then.’’
She heard Sandy’s fingers clacking on the keys outside, trying to finish some paperwork that was due at five. There was never enough time to absorb anything— anger, fear, dread. The scene with Jim had seemed so out of control, but they were all being swept forward so fast, she’d have forgotten it in five more minutes.
And now came the news that Heidi’s trail had gone cold. Wild stories, baseball bats, vague hints that led nowhere . . . Might as well chase a real wild goose. Okay, forget her. Onward to the next move, the next crisis.
Nina put her hands behind her head and stretched, looking out the window at the mountains. She was sick of it, all of it.
She really wanted this case to be over. She wanted to get on with her life with Collier, and until this thing was resolved their relationship could not start up properly.
That was a selfish thought. She felt guilty about being so selfish and about the conversation with Jim. Without meaning to, she had harmed the relationship between them. How would she react, if she were the one charged with murder and her lawyer had married the man prosecuting her? She might well have shouted. She might even have cried. At least he hadn’t cried.
The Strong file sat in the middle of her desk directly in front of her. She put her hands down on it and picked it up, then thumbed through the pages, one by one.
What had she missed? What more could she do?
The government-issue clock on the wall said three-thirty. Collier had been told to sit on the antique green settee which Henry McFarland had brought in to add some class, as he described it, to the corner office.
The settee was hideously uncomfortable. Collier wondered how much this had entered into Henry’s calculations. Certainly, it made Collier eager to keep their meeting brief.
‘‘I don’t believe we’ve ever had a situation like this before, Collier,’’ Henry said, once he had raised his nose above his notes. ‘‘I have to say, I don’t feel good about having her opposite you.’’