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“There’s something else he needs to do now. Remember how I had you investigate yourself when we first met—so we’d be aware in advance of exactly what the police would turn up in their own investigation?”
Of course she remembers. It had been a mind-numbing job, but at least she knew for sure going into her third interview with detectives that everything from her phone records to her E-ZPass account would confirm that she was home that Saturday night and hadn’t been calling a burner phone belonging to a hit man or otherwise orchestrating the murder from home.
“Yes,” she says.
“Tom needs to do that, too. He should look through his search history, phone logs, texts, emails, calendar, as wellas his credit card statements. He should cover the time between this conference you both attended and when the world knows you met. Then all the information is fresh if Webster asks specific questions.”
She can’t believe Tom is going to be stuck with this task, particularly at such a crazed time for him. And there’s something so morbid about it—gathering all these bits and pieces of your life to prove you’re not a cold-blooded killer.
“Okay,” she says, wearied by the conversation. “I’ll explain to Tom what to do.”
They exchange goodbyes, and before she can toss her phone in her bag, it rings again. Tom is on the other end.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says. “The presentation go well?”
“Overall. I can tell you more at dinner.”
“That’s part of the reason I’m calling. I planned to be home to eat with you, but there’s an issue I need to deal with and I’m going to be at the office till at least nine.”
Emma feels a twinge of frustration, though not at Tom. She never doubts she’s his biggest priority, but she was hoping to fill him in as soon as possible on the homework Dunne gave him. And beyond that, she was counting on the comfort of his company after such a stressful day.
“Not a problem. Is it the situation you’ve been working on with Justine?”
“No, something else. There’s a bit of confusion about the second-quarter numbers, and I need to go over them with Dan.” He’s referring to the long-standing chief financial officer at Halliday.
“Got it. Shall I make a plate for you and stick it in the fridge?”
“Actually, if I’m going to have to stare at spreadsheets for a few hours, I’d love to eat first. What if we meet at the Whelk around six and we can grab a quick bite together? I’m sure Brittany will be fine on her own.”
“That sounds like a perfect plan B,” she says, pleased with his suggestion. “See you there at six.”
Emma hangs up and is just about to start the engine when her gaze catches on a piece of white paper tucked under the windshield wiper and quivering in the afternoon breeze.Did Eric leave it?she wonders. But wouldn’t he have texted her rather than opt for a written note that might blow away?
She exits the car, plucks the paper out, and quickly unfolds it. There are only six words, written with pen in block letters.
You’d better watch what you’re doing.
