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“He told you to call me?” she says, tensing inside.
Scott chuckles. “Well, he didn’t come right out andorderme to. Though when your boss forwards a link to an article with a note that says, ‘This woman really seems to know her stuff,’ you don’t blow it off. Especially when that boss is Tom.”
She stares at him again, unable to even fake a smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, I would have called you even if I’d come across the article myself,” Scott says, misjudging the reason for the distress she can’t wipe from her face. “It was clear from your comments that the agency could really use someone like you.”
“Thanks, Scott,” she manages. “And there’s no issue. I just hadn’t been aware that Tom had read the article, too.”
“And he’d heard you, too, of course.”
“Heard me?”
“At a talk you gave. Someone at the agency once mentioned that she and Tom had gone to it together.”
“You mean in Miami?”
Scott frowns and taps a finger to his lips, trying to summon a memory. “Not Miami. In New York City, and I think it was Stacey Manning who brought it up. You know—the former number two who Justine replaced?”
Before the murder, Emmahadgiven talks in the city, and also participated in panel discussions—at places like the Ninety-Second Street Y and the Harvard Club—but Tom certainly hadn’t attended one of those events.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. She’s sure Scott must be wondering why the conversation has taken such a weird turn.
“Well, if there’s any confusion, at least we know how to clear it up,” he says, flashing a smile. “Just ask your husband.”
“Ha, exactly. And speaking of Tom, I should see if he’s done with golf and also let you get back to your day.”
Scott insists on paying for their coffees and they exchange goodbyes in the parking lot. Emma doesn’t leave right away, though. She sits stunned in the front seat of her car, trying to make sense of what she’s heard.
There was a chance Taylor was confused, but Scott surely isn’t. Contrary to what Tom has led her to believe for the past two years, it washimwho initiated her involvement with the agency. And yet he’s never admitted he put things in motion.
And what’s this business about a speech in New York? When Stacey spoke to Scott, she surely must have been referring to the Miami dinner since it’s likely she was there, too. But it suggests Tom might have heard more of that talkthan he told her. No wonder he’s aware of the jewelry she was wearing.
All this is making Emma feel like Tomhasplayed some kind of long game, attracted to her from the beginning and then surreptitiously drawing her into his orbit. The whole thing feels manipulative... even slightly stalkerish.
And what would Dunne think if he found out? Or worse, Webster?
Emma sinks back into the seat, massaging her temples. Is she getting ahead of herself yet again,projecting? Part of Tom’s success at work comes from regularly passing along interesting items to staffers as a way of seeding ideas, counting on employees to take it from there—and often deflecting credit for the role he initially played. Perhaps when he read the article and passed it to Scott, he didn’t even remember her from the Miami program.
Still, she would like to be sure that Tom hasn’t had some creepy obsession with her.
The alarm’s off when Emma enters the house, indicating that Tom or Brittany’s there, though a second later she remembers that in her rush to leave for Terrain, she never punched in the code. She calls out both names but there’s no reply.
She feels grungy from running around in the warm weather this morning and also from her endless worrying, and she decides to change into a fresh top. Upstairs, the long hallway is utterly quiet. She picks up the lingering scent of the cypress candle she sometimes lights when she and Tom make love.
There are four rooms on this level: their bedroom, the guest room that Brittany’s using, a backup guest room, which one day—depending on what they decide and whether fortune smiles on them—might become a nursery, and finally, at the very end, a home office for Tom.
Emma touches the doorknob to their bedroom, but then, barely conscious of what she’s doing, drops her arm and stares down the length of the hall. The next thing she knows, she’s making her way toward Tom’s office. She feels a little like a sleepwalker who’s woken with a jolt in some distant part of the house, but she knows exactly what her intention is. She wants to glance around. Not for anything specific, just something to confirm that her husband is exactly the person she thinks he is, and their relationship began as organically as she’s always assumed.
She’s reaching for the handle when the creak of a door behind her makes her nearly jump out of her skin. Spinning around, she discovers Brittany emerging from the guest bedroom.
“You’re here?” Emma asks, realizing how lame that sounds.
“I got back about twenty minutes ago. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh, I called your name.”
“I must have been in the shower.”
