Page 16 of So Alone


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The woman looked between the two agents, seemingly surprised by the request. “Ain’t got two singles,” she said, “but I have a double queen with a walk-in closet.”

Michael pursed his lips. In a recent argument, Ellie had pointed out her discomfort with the fact that Michael shared rooms with Faith while they were on cases. He had committed to getting separate rooms since, even after Ellie apologized for her outburst.

Faith noticed his discomfort. “I can look for a room at the other motel down the road,” she offered. “We can meet at one of the cafés in the morning.”

“No, it’s fine,” Michael said, handing the stoic woman his Bureau credit card. “Ellie isn’t worried about that anymore.”

The stoic woman lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Michael didn’t bother correcting her obvious suspicions. She handed them each a keycard, then looked down and seemed to see Turk for the first time.

“Dog’s an extra twenty a night,” she said, “No charge if you tie him up outside.”

Michael placed a twenty on the table and smiled. “Thank you.”

The woman didn’t return his smile and said nothing else as the three agents left the lobby and headed to their room. Faith dropped her bag on the floor near the room’s one window and informed Michael she was going to shower.

Maybe it was just the uncomfortable memory of his argument with Ellie, but Michael felt his thoughts drift a little too close to imagining Faith naked in the shower.

He had convinced Ellie that he had no more romantic feelings for Faith and saw her only as a friend. Now he was wondering if she still shampooed first and washed her body later. Could Ellie have been right to worry? He had no plans of cheating on her, but thinking about Faith at all in this way concerned him. Maybe he should have allowed Faith to room at the other motel.

He sighed heavily and kicked his shoes off, then plopped onto his side of the bed and switched the tv on. He would shower in the morning.

CHAPTER FIVE

Genevieve was on her phone when the agents arrived. She looked contemptuously at Turk and asked, “That dog’s not going to shit on our floor, is he?”

Gigi Demetrious lived with her daughter, Genevieve, and her mother, Olivia, in a large, well-appointed two-story home in the Rolling Hills Estates in the extreme northeast corner of Goldwood, the opposite side of town from where Gigi's body was found. Both women appeared to be carbon copies of Gigi, Genevieve, a younger version, and Olivia, an older version. Neither woman seemed all that upset at Gigi’s death.

Upon being reassured that Turk was, in fact, housetrained, she returned promptly to her phone and put on the expression of practiced boredom Faith associated with the plastic women whose insecurity demanded that they make it clear to everyone how bored they were with everyone and everything around them.

Olivia was somewhat less haughty but still looked down her nose at Michael and Faith, as though she were doing them a great favor by speaking to them.

“I assume you’re here to ask me about Gigi,” she said in a regal tone.

“Yes,” Faith said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Genevieve scoffed at that. Olivia nodded with the barest politeness.

Faith and Michael shared a look. Then Faith began. “When was the last time either of you saw Gigi?”

“The morning of her death,” Olivia replied. “She was here for breakfast, as she was every morning, then she left for work.”

She said the last word as though it was a dirty word.

“What did she do for work?” Faith asked.

“She owned a clothing boutique in Goldwood.Le Courtesan.I imagine you can deduce what sort of apparel she sold.”

Faith could and could also deduce Olivia’s disapproval of her daughter’s line of work. Then again, maybe it was the idea of work in general that disgusted her.

“Did she seem different to you in any way?” Faith asked, “more irritable than normal? Aloof, anxious?”

“My daughter was not an anxious woman, officer,” Olivia replied.

Faith decided it would be a waste of time to remind Olivia that she was a special agent and not an officer. “And you noticed nothing out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

Faith turned to Genevieve, who held her phone up and posed, her facial expression never changing. Before the end of the interview, she would no doubt post that picture with a caption that said something about peace or serenity.

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