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I managed a wan smile. "See, you should be the detective."
He snorted. "Nah. I'm just hoping it's the case. Otherwise? Well, only other thing here is me. So if it's not the case? It's me."
"It's the case."
"Talk to me."
I stretched out my bare legs, and he squeezed one before reaching for another piece of bread.
"It's just . . ."
I feel overwhelmed.
I took a deep breath. "I keep going back to Cherise Hale. Victor Walling's girlfriend."
"Okay."
I crossed my legs. "Howard Lang thinks that Cherise's death proves Sheila is a viable suspect. Cherise died when a gift blew up in her face. Charles Atom's daughter died from an IED presumably intended for her dad. Someone placed another IED in Angela's car. The devices weren't exactly the same, but there were similarities. The only connection between Cherise and the other two is Sheila."
"But you don't like her for it."
"Six months ago, she kills Cherise, accidentally, it seems, with an explosive device hidden in a gift. She's a suspect in that case, but she's never charged. Then she kills Mindy Lang, and it's ruled a suicide. Okay. Then she shoots Albert Kim and tries to set it up as another suicide, but that fails, which reopens Mindy's case, and the police realize the two killings are connected. So if you're Sheila, what do you do now? Move on to Charles Atom, using a device similar to the one that killed Cherise . . . which will then pull her death into the mix and point the finger straight at you?"
Jack grunted, his gaze going distant as he thought it through.
"Fuck, yeah," he said after a few seconds. "Makes no sense. You go after Atom? You're not gonna use an IED. It's the only thing tying Cherise to the Atom girl."
"Which then ties Sheila to the rest. Sending Cherise that 'gift' to spook her doesn't make sense. Not when her kids were there. And Sheila has never contested the divorce. She's only arguing for joint custody . . . Which she'd have gotten by now if she hadn't been investigated for Cherise's death."
"So what's her motive?"
"Exactly." I paused. "I want to talk to Sheila again. I worry that I'm basing conclusions on snap judgments. I spent a few minutes with her. That's not enough to judge someone's character."
"You've got good instincts."
"I've been wrong before."
He shrugged. "We all have. But yeah, talk to her tomorrow. See what you think."
Chapter Seventeen
Nadia
Iescorted Angela to work. Then I met up with Sheila. I'd called earlier this morning, and she'd agreed to see me.
"I start at seven," she'd said. "I'm an early bird. That means I take my break at nine, and it's a mile to the coffee shop. You seemed to be fine with walking while talking yesterday . . ."
"I am. I'll meet you at nine, then."
It turned out that the nearest coffee shop wasn't a mile from her office. She worked downtown, at a biochemical engineering firm, surrounded by coffee shops.
"I don't like those ones," she said when I commented. "And I need the exercise. That's how I'm staying off the meds."
I nodded. "Exercise can help with pain."
"It might. But exercise works for me because I hate every goddamn minute of it, so that's thirty minutes a day I'm bitching about something other than my shoulder."
She walked fast, long strides that had me half jogging to keep up. Those strides also kept her path clear, people making way for the grim-faced juggernaut. As we walked, we talked about Cherise. I didn't have to beat around the bush. One mention of the name, and Sheila knew what I wanted to chat about, and she was happy to do it.
