"How long were you in there?"she said.
"Not long.Sorry if the water woke you."
“No, that was your alarm,” she said as she reached for her own phone on the nightstand.Miles went to his bag and started pulling out fresh clothes.He'd packed light, a consequence of not knowing how long they'd be in Manhattan, and his options were limited.Clean shirt, same suit jacket.
"Bathroom's yours," he said.
"Thank you."She was already standing, wrapping herself in the hotel robe.They passed each other in the narrow space between the beds in a brief, slightly absurd shuffle, Miles stepping one way while she stepped the same direction, both of them catching themselves and pivoting.
"Sorry," he said.
"Move to the left."
"That is the left."
She pointed to his other left and moved around him.He heard the bathroom door click shut.Miles found a small clear space in front of the television stand to finish dressing, moving quickly before she came back out.He figured he had about five minutes before the choreography became complicated again.
He wasn’t wrong.Vic emerged while he was knotting his tie at the mirror inside the closet door, still in the robe, reaching past him to plug in her phone charger without saying a word.He stepped back to give her room and bumped into the bed frame.She had set her clothes on the chair by the window and was sorting through them with a focused efficiency that communicated clearly she did not want conversation.
He respected that.
By ten minutes to seven, they were both dressed and functional.Miles had his laptop bag slung over one shoulder and Vic was pulling her hair back into a low knot, checking it in the mirror by the door.
"Breakfast?"Miles said.
"God, yes.And coffee.”
The hotel had a small restaurant off the lobby, which they found easily.They took a corner table, away from the other guests, and ordered coffee and food from a server who left them largely alone.Miles wrapped both hands around the mug when it came and felt the warmth of it work into his palms.
"How are you doing?"Vic asked.
"Better," he said."I think I needed to sleep on it.Literally, even if the sleeping was lousy."He thought about telling her that he’d sent an email to the prison this morning but decided that might muddy the waters.So, he kept that to himself for the time being."Hayes is right.Youare right.The Marshals are resourced for this.I'm not.The work we can actually do is right in front of us."
Vic studied him for a moment."Okay," she said, without making it into more than it was.
"So…Claudia Ashford," Miles said, setting down his mug."I want to think through how we're handling this before we go in."
Vic pulled out her phone and opened the notes she'd made the night before."It’ll be interesting.We're going to be essentially asking her to help us identify which of her former employees might be committing murders.That's a delicate conversation."
"She may also feel some guilt about it," Miles said."Her company collapsed, she went to prison, and the people who worked for her scattered.If one of them turned into a killer, she's going to wonder whether she bears some responsibility."
"Or she'll get defensive.Protecting the legacy of the business, what's left of it."
Miles considered that."Either way, we need her to focus.Not on the past, not on the bankruptcy, but on specific people.Specific skills, specific grievances."He wrapped his hands around the mug again."I want to concentrate on two things.First, who had the technical ability to do what the killer's doing.Platinum electroplating is specialized work.Not every jeweler would even know the process."
"Hartley does."
"Hartley does.But I want her to confirm that, and I want to know who else from her staff would have had that knowledge."Miles paused."Second, who left the job carrying real anger.Not just frustration.Something deep enough to fester."
Vic looked up from her notes."You think she'll know that?"
"I think she ran that business for fifteen years.She knew those people.Whether she wants to tell us is a different question."
“And ifsheturns out to be the killer?”Vic ventured.
Miles shrugged and, with a hopeful smile, said: “Then hopefully this case will be closed by noon.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
