Page 45 of Over Her Dead Body

At 6:40 that evening, the man responsible for Lisbon returns.

He comes through the side entrance between two men who are better at their jobs than he is. His left wrist is wrapped against his chest. Poorly. The fingers have swollen around the bandage.

He still has soft hands.

One of them is now largely decorative.

A second chance is how one distinguishes a mistake from a limitation.

This is why I gave him one.

“You asked for another report,” he says.

“No. I asked for a better one.”

He sits and places it on the table with his good hand.

Four pages. Typed. Stapled. Underlined in places.

I have always disliked underlining. It gives weak thoughts confidence.

Emma Calloway arrived at work at 8:57 a.m.

Emma Calloway spoke with Owen Mercer at 9:14 a.m.

Emma Calloway laughed at 9:16 a.m.

Emma Calloway entered the preview room at 9:22 a.m.

Genevieve Loring arrived without the referral.

Emma Calloway agreed to attend the private preview.

Emma Calloway will bring a date.

I read the last line twice.

“How proud you must be.”

His eyes lift.

“You learned the word date.”

“I wrote down everything that happened.”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

I turn back one page.

“Emma Calloway laughed.”

He waits for me to continue.

“At what?”

“I don’t know.”

“With whom?”