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“I urged her to go only half the distance, but she wouldn’t hear of it. How would it look to all the other runners if the organizer failed to finish? I said that was ego talking and referred to her commitment as an obsession.”
Knight whistled.
Jeff said, “I’ll admit, that was hitting below the belt. She stormed out of the room, and I was too angry to go after her. The quarrel ended on that note.”
“What did she vent about?” Grange asked.
Jeff took his time before answering, weighing how much he wanted to disclose, and decided to be forthright. “I was passed over for a promotion to partner in my firm. Not because I hadn’t earned it, but because of inner-office politics. Which is galling. I was disappointed, disenchanted, and, I confess, Emory bore the brunt of my dissatisfaction.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been moody and withdrawn. Admittedly, not much fun to live with. I rebuffed her attempts to cheer me and bolster my self-esteem.” He raised his shoulders. “Thursday night, months of frustration came to a head. We both said things.”
Grange just sat there looking at him. Knight asked, “No abusive language? Did the fight ever get physical?”
“Good God. No! We’re not white trash. Raised voices was the extent of it.”
Knight nodded. “My wife and I had a fight this morning over a wet towel I left on the bathroom floor. She yelled at me, asked why I didn’t pee on the floor while I was at it. You never know what’s going to set a woman off.”
The comparison left Jeff too affronted to speak.
Knight stood up, and, as though he’d given Grange a silent signal, he did likewise. Knight said, “Anything turns up tonight, we’ll let you know.”
Jeff looked at them with incredulity. “That’s it? You’re closing up shop and going home?”
“Don’t worry. We’ve got people working different angles.”
“What people? What angles?”
“Angles. In the morning, we’ll get an early start. Might actually help to have you come along, Jeff.”
“I’d like that very much. I don’t think I could endure another day of just sitting around.”
“Good. You can ride up there with us.”
In that rigged-out SUV? Not likely. “I’ll follow you in my own car.”
“Naw, let’s all go together,” Knight said, settling it and leaving no room for argument. The detective lifted his quilted coat off the back of his chair and pulled it on. Eyeing Jeff’s overcoat and Burberry scarf, he said, “You’ll need different clothes.”
“I packed a ski jacket.”
“You packed?”
Jeff turned to Grange. “Sorry?”
“You packed before leaving Atlanta to come up here?”
“I brought some things, yes.”
“How come? Did you count on being up here for a while?”
“I reasoned,” he said, emphasizing the word, “that when I joined Emory, it was unlikely that we’d drive back before Monday morning. I came prepared to spend at least one night.”
Grange registered no reaction to the explanation.
Knight pointed Jeff toward the exit. “Tomorrow morning we’ll pick you up, say…seven? Is that too early?”
“I’ll be ready. I only hope the motel can accommodate me for another night.”
