Sacred Sins

Cuisinart. There was a man's picture in a frame beside her bed, a quarter ounce of Colombian in her bureau drawer, and fresh flowers—white zinnias—on top of it.
    She'd been a good employee. Only three days out sick since the first of the year. But her coworkers knew nothing about her social life. Her neighbors described her as friendly and described the man in the bedside picture as a frequent guest.
    Her address book had been neatly ordered and nearly full. Many of the names were passing acquaintances and distant family, along with insurance brokers, an oral surgeon, and an aerobics instructor.
    Then they located Suzanne Hudson, a graphic artist who had been Anne's friend and confidante since college. Ben and Ed found her at home, in an apartment above a boutique. She was wearing a terry-cloth robe and carrying a cup of coffee. Her eyes were red and swollen, with bruising shadows down to the cheekbones.
    The sound on the television was off, but the Wheel of Fortune played on screen. Someone had just solved the puzzle: WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS.
    After she let them in, she went to the couch and curled up her feet. “There's coffee in the kitchen if you want it. I'm having a hard time making the effort to be sociable.”
    “Thanks, anyway.” Ben took the opposite end of the couch and left the chair for Ed. “You knew Anne Reasoner pretty well.”

    “Did you ever have a best friend? I don't mean someone you just called the best, but someone who was?” Her short red hair hadn't been tended to. She combed a hand through it and sent it into spikes. “I really loved her, you know? I still can't quite grip the fact that she's…” She bit down on the inside of her lip, then soothed the hurt with coffee. “The funeral's tomorrow.”
    “I know. Ms. Hudson, it's a hell of a time to bother you, but we need to ask you some questions.”
    “John Carroll.”
    “I'm sorry, what?”
    “John Carroll.” Suzanne repeated the name, then spelled it meticulously when Ed produced his notebook. “You wanted to know why Anne would have been out walking alone in the middle of the night, didn't you?”
    The grief and anger were there as she leaned forward and picked up an address book. With the coffee still in her hand, she used her thumb to page through it. “Here's his address.” She passed the book to Ed.
    “We have a John Carroll, a lawyer who was on staff at the firm Ms. Reasoner worked for.” Ed flipped back in his notes and coordinated the addresses.
    “That's right. That's him.”
    “He hasn't come into the office for a couple of days.”
    “Hiding,” she snapped. “He wouldn't have the courage to come out and face what he's done. If he comes tomorrow, if he dares to show his face tomorrow, I'll spit in it.” Then she covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. “No, no, it's not right.” Fatigue came through now as she lowered her hand again. “She loved him. She really loved him. They've been seeing each other for almost two years, ever since he joined the firm. Kept it quiet—his idea.” She took a big gulp of coffee and managed to keep her emotions in check. “He didn't want office gossip. She went along with it. She went along with everything. You can't imagine how much she swallowed for that man. Anne was the original Miss Independence—I've made it on my own and like it, single is an alternative life-style. She wasn't militant, if you know what I mean, just content to carve out her own space. Until John.”

    “They had a relationship,” Ben prompted.
    “If you can call it that. She didn't even tell her parents about him. No one knew but me.” She rubbed her eyes. Mascara had been clumped on her lashes and came off in flakes. “She was so happy at first. I guess I was happy for her, but I didn't like the fact that she was… well, so controlled by him. Little things, you know. If he liked Italian food, she did. If he was into French movies, so was she.”
    Suzanne struggled against the bitterness and grief for a moment. Her free hand began to clamp and un-clamp over the lapel of her robe. “She wanted to get married. She needed to marry him. All she could think of was bringing their relationship out and registering at Bloomingdale's. He kept putting her off, not saying no, just not yet. Not yet. Anyway, she was sinking pretty low emotionally. She made some demands on him, and he dumped her. Just like that. He didn't even have the guts to say it to her face. He called