“Email debacle?” I asked.
“Somebody’s been hacking into the computers of the Brooklyn Country Day parents, using their dirty laundry against them.” She hesitated again and pressed her lips together. “Like Terry’s Bench, for instance. You know, the Tinder for married people? A bunch of husbands had their account info emailed to their wives, which makes that hacker Robin Hood as far as I’m concerned. There’s that and all the naked selfies that have been stolen. Oh, yes, and porn. Buckets of porn people are getting blackmailed for.” She laughed in a sharp burst. “Anyway, this was all supposed to be secret because the school’s investigating. But that night at the party, everyone got drunkand started spilling. Maybe if I’d been with Amanda instead of listening to all that stupid gossip, she’d be alive.”
“Do you remember what time it was when you last saw Amanda at the party?”
Sarah wiped at her eyes and sniffed. “Let’s see, I got there around eight thirty, and I was home by nine thirty. So sometime in there.”
Suspiciously shortwas the first thing that jumped to mind. “That’s not very long.”
“I know.” Sarah sounded annoyed. “My oldest was supposed to be in the Hamptons for six weeks. That turned into six days after some fight with his girlfriend. Anyway, he didn’t have house keys, and Thursday nights my husband is out angling to break a hip. Believe me, I never would have left the party if my son hadn’t called. Nothing is better than watching to see who uses the ‘upstairs’ at Maude’s parties. Everyone’s so hush-hush after. If you want to know, you have to be there yourself. I’m in awe of couples whose marriages are that adventurous. Like Maude and Sebe. They could walk through fire naked together and not get burned.”
“Did you see Zach at the party?” I asked.
“I chatted with him for a second,” Sarah said. “He was skulking at the edges of the party and then he left.”
“Did you actually see him leave?”
“No, but I’m assuming … I didn’t see him again.”
“And you didn’t see either Zach or Amanda go upstairs?”
“Please.” Sarah laughed. “You should have seen Amanda’s face when she heard about it. She actually looked like she was going to faint.”
“And Zach?”
Sarah’s eyes went hard. “He’s your client.”
“I’m asking whatyousaw.”
She snorted lightly, looked away.Lawyers, the look seemed to say. “Aside from our two-second exchange, I only saw Zach circling like some kind of shark,” she said. “Then I went home. I have no idea what he did after that.”
She stood then, heading to the open door. “And now I really do have to get back to work.”
I rose and followed her. “If you think of anything else, you have my cell number,” I said. “It’s the one I called you from.”
“Yeah, I have it,” Sarah said, then paused. She squinted at me, focused anew. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so.” I certainly hoped not.
“Do you have kids in the neighborhood?” she asked. “I’m really good with faces.”
“I live all the way in Sunset Park.”
“Where do your kids go to school, though?” she asked. “I feel like we all cross paths eventually in Brooklyn.”
“I don’t have kids.”
“Smart,” she said, and now she looked intrigued. She glanced at my wedding band.
“Is your better half also a lawyer?”
“No,” I said, with a too hard, bitter laugh.
Sarah leaned in. “What does he or she do?”
“He’s a writer.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting,” she said. “My husband is a lawyer. No offense, but you are all boring as hell. Or maybe that’s just my husband. He’s not a criminal lawyer.”
