Love Can Be Murder

the little shades that had tiny uniform ducks circling the edge. It was true. If I hadn’t been so susceptible to Daniel’s charms even after he’d cheated on me, I wouldn’t be sitting here eating steel-cut oats with my former husband in my former breakfast nook. The surprising thing was…it wasn’t so bad. Well, except for Daniel being dead. But the knowledge that Grant could forgive me to the point of defending me made me feel humble and philosophical, and gave me the strength to face my boss and my coworkers.
    Unfortunately, Leora Painter was the first coworker I saw walking in from the parking garage. The woman did a double-take before falling into stride slightly in front of me.
    “I’m surprised to see you here,” she said, then stabbed the button for the elevator.
    “Maybe we can have that missed lunch,” I suggested sweetly. “My neighbor said you stopped by my apartment the day before yesterday. Funny, but I don’t remember us making plans.”
    She turned narrowed eyes on me. “Nice try. But I gave the police the text message I got from you to meet you there because you wanted to tell me something about Daniel. Little did I know it was a ploy to get me out of the way so you two could have a quickie rendezvous.”
    I gaped at her as the elevator doors opened. “I didn’t send you a text message. There was no rendezvous.”
    “Whatever.” She stepped onto the elevator, then held up her arm to prevent my entry. “I think you’d better wait for the next one.”
    I did, if only to digest the information that I had allegedly sent Leora a text message to meet me. I pulled out my phone and, to my horror, found the message in my “sent” folder amidst other business and personal messages. In a panic, I deleted the message while my mind churned for an explanation. My cell phone typically sat on my desk in my doorless office, accessible to anyone who happened by. And hadn’t I read somewhere that anyone with a gadget from the cable company could hack into someone’s phone within a half-mile radius?
    I was sweating copiously as I made my way to my tiny office. I tried to meet everyone’s cagey eye contact with a mournful—and innocent—smile while scrutinizing the foot traffic patterns in the vicinity. Out of about fifty employees, I deduced half of them could have been in or around my office without raising suspicion: everyone from Daniel’s two partners in the firm to the roving coed intern whose eyes were red-rimmed. Julie had been crushing on Daniel, I recalled, and made a mental note to tell Detective Salyers when I next spoke to her.
    The mood was solemn but busy as everyone tried to recover from the office being closed most of the day before upon hearing the news of Daniel’s demise. I tensed when I saw Sarah Finn, Daniel’s secretary, heading my way. She was an unmarried scrupulous woman approaching fifty, and the only fool she suffered was Daniel. I exhaled when she handed me one of two cups of hot green tea she carried.
    “I thought you could use this,” she soothed. “How are you holding up?”
    I sipped. “Still trying to absorb everything. I didn’t know what kind of reception to expect here.”
    “Mr. Wallace called us together yesterday morning before he closed the office and reminded everyone you were presumed innocent until proven otherwise.”
    Nice of him, I conceded. “Sarah, did Daniel have any enemies?”
    She dunked her tea bag up and down. “Like I told the police, from knowing Daniel, I’d say his murder was motivated by lust. It’s no secret he was a whoremonger.”
    The tea scalded my tongue. I waited for the prim woman to burst into flames for using such raw language.
    She gave me a contrite little smile. “No offense.”
    “None thaken,” I murmured thickly.
    Rick Wallace, one of the remaining two partners, rapped on the glass wall of my office and stuck his graying head inside. “Good morning, Renni.”
    “There’ve been better,” I returned.
    He inclined his head, but it was clear he didn’t want to engage in small talk or assurances. “We’re having a memorial service for Daniel tomorrow morning in the chapel at the church across the street. Sarah, I need to talk to you as soon as possible about reassigning Daniel’s cases to Eric.”
    “I’d be happy to help pick up the slack,” I offered.
    “We’ll see,” he said without looking at me. Sarah followed him out.
    I tried to pretend it was any other workday, but it was impossible not