Delusion in Death

anything out of the ordinary while you were in the bar?”
    “Nothing,” Weaver murmured, with tears swimming in her eyes. “There was nothing. It was happy hour, and most of the tables werefull, so we just took the bar. I didn’t want anything to eat anyway. We just sat at the bar, talked about the presentation, the campaign. Just shoptalk.”
    “Did both of you leave alone?”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes,” Callaway concurred. “I actually walked out with somebody else from the company. Not our department. Whistler,” he said to Weaver. “I didn’t know he was in there, and we hit the door pretty much together. Said how’s it going, and went our separate ways.”
    “How did he die?”
    “I’m sorry, Ms. Weaver, I can’t tell you at this time.”
    “But his wife, his kids. He has a boy and a girl.”
    “We’ll be talking to her. I’m going to ask you not to contact her until tomorrow, until we can make the official notification.”
    “There must be something you can tell us,” Callaway insisted. “Something we can do. Joe … we were all there with Joe.”
    “I can tell you that we’re actively investigating, and we’re pursuing any and all leads. We’ll be issuing a media release as soon as possible. You can tell me if either of you know of anyone who’d want to harm Mr. Cattery.”
    “No, absolutely no.” Weaver took a long, steadying breath. “He’s the original Mister Nice Guy. He coaches a soccer team. He’s the first one to give you a hand if you need it. He’s been married—first and only time—for … I don’t know, twelve years, maybe more. He doesn’t forget your birthday.”
    “Everybody likes Joe,” Callaway confirmed. “You have to.”
    “How long have you worked with him?”
    “I’ve been with S&R for nine years next January,” Weaver said. “He came on a few months after me.”

    “I’ve been there almost ten years. We don’t always work together,” Callaway qualified. “We have solo projects, team projects.”
    “And Stevenson Vann—related?”
    “He’s the COO’s nephew,” Weaver informed Eve. “He came on about five years ago. He’s good. He’s got the knack. He and Joe are pretty friendly, actually. Their boys are about the same age—Steve’s divorced, but he gets the kid every other week. They talk kids. They talked kids tonight a little. Oh my God, who’s going to tell Steve?”
    “I’ll do it.” Callaway took a breath. “I’ll tell him.” When Weaver covered Callaway’s hands with hers, he patted it. “I’ll get in touch with him tonight.”
    “Did you know anyone else in the bar?”
    Callaway blinked at her. “Sorry?”
    “You said you walked out with someone you knew. Did you know anyone else in the bar?”
    “I … I don’t know, honestly. I mean to say, you see familiar faces as it’s a popular spot for people who work at S&R and in the area.”
    “We had our backs to the room most of the time.” Weaver squeezed her eyes shut. “There could have been other people I knew in there, and I wouldn’t have noticed. They might be dead, too.”
    After taking their contact information, Eve walked them out. Waited for Roarke.
    “Your take?” she asked him.
    “The woman’s emotional, but knows under most circumstances how to pull it in.”
    “Controlled.”
    “Yes, and so is he.”
    “What’s S&R?”
    “Cleaning products. Industrial, home, body. They’ve been around for more than a century. Very solid. And to save you time—Weaveris the VP in charge of Marketing. Vann, Callaway, and your victim work under her. Though Vann heads this current campaign, under her supervision. Callaway and the victim carry the marketing exec title. Weaver’s single, with two official cohabs in the past, and Vann’s divorced. Callaway’s single. And the victim, as you were told, married with family. Vann has a boy, eight—as does the victim, and a girl, five. No children for Weaver or Callaway.”
    “You make a good aide.”
    “I can get you more, if and when you need it.”
    “It’s enough for the first picture. Any sense of a thing between Callaway and Weaver?”
    “Sexual or romantic? No.”
    “I didn’t get one either, but he came when she called. Is that an obey the boss thing or a friend thing? We’ll see.”
    She stopped outside Interview A. “Tell me about this guy.”
    “Devon Lester, forty-three. Second marriage—same sex—no children. He’s been in food and beverage for more than twenty years. Worked bars,