Smoke in Mirrors

hall. “Thing is, I’ll have to take off the towel before I can put on any clothes.”
    “Of course you will.”

    “You know,” Thomas said a long time later, “if you’re going to make a habit of walking past my house every morning just in time for breakfast, maybe you should think about spending the nights here. Be a lot more efficient.”
    She watched him ladle the steaming oatmeal he hadjust finished preparing into two bowls. “I like to walk in the mornings. Good exercise.”
    He wondered if he had been a little too subtle. He didn’t do subtle well. He decided to try again, keeping it light but a bit more to the point.
    “If it’s exercise you’re after, I would be happy to provide you with the type we just had in the bedroom on a daily basis,” he said.
    “It did get my heart rate up a bit. But I’m not sure sex is a substitute for aerobic walking.”
    Maybe he was still erring on the subtle side.
    “Okay, I’ve got another idea.” He put the bowls of oatmeal on the counter and opened the container of brown sugar. “How about I spend the nights at your place and then we both walk back here for breakfast every morning? Think that would work?”
    She opened the refrigerator and took out the carton of milk, keeping her back to him. “Sounds a lot like moving in together.”
    “You’re not ready for that, I take it?”
    She closed the refrigerator and turned around. Her expression was very serious. “I don’t think we should rush things, Thomas. They’re already moving fast enough.”
    “Right. Wouldn’t want to move too fast.” Probably trip and fall flat on his face.
    He sat down by the counter. Leonora slid onto the stool beside him and picked up a spoon.
    “Maybe we should talk about how we’re going to handle Julie Bromley,” she said.
    Okay. No one had to hit him over the head with a two-by-four to drive home a point. She wanted to change the subject. Right now.
    “How about the good cop, bad cop routine?” he suggested.
    “I don’t know. Neither of us are cops.” She wrinkledher nose. “Besides, everyone who watches television knows that trick. Hard to believe that sort of elementary psychological manipulation would work in real life.”
    “Are you telling me that you actually doubt the truth of what you see on television?”
    “Well—”
    “Besides, our goal isn’t to manipulate Julie Bromley with clever psychology.”
    “No?” She raised her brows. “What is our goal?”
    “To scare her into telling us the truth.”
    “Oh, right. Got it.”

    “I didn’t steal anything,” Julie shrieked. “I swear it. I just looked at some of your stuff, Miss Hutton, that’s all, honest.”
    Thomas winced and glanced uneasily at the wall that divided Julie’s apartment from the one next door. The off-campus building had been constructed as student housing and it was obvious that no one had worried much about sound insulation.
    Julie’s small studio apartment was crammed with the clutter of student life. There were several oversized cushions and a single chair. The bed was unmade. A half-full bag of potato chips was propped against the computer. Textbooks and a couple of notebooks were scattered across the desk. The closet door was open. Thomas could see several pairs of shoes and boots tumbled on the floor. A red leather jacket hung over the back of a chair.
    Julie had looked startled to find them in the hall outside her apartment, but she had allowed them inside without protest. She had been drinking a can of cola and had tentatively offered her visitors some. The idea of drinking pop at that hour of the morning sent a shudder throughThomas, but he had declined politely. Each to his or her own source of caffeine, he thought.
    Leonora had explained in a very firm voice that they needed to speak with her about an important matter. Julie had backed down in the face of an authoritative adult.
    Her initial nervousness had turned to outright alarm when Leonora had confronted her with the information that she had been seen sneaking out of the library office. Panic had set in immediately. After a weak stab at denial, she had plunged straight into mitigating circumstances.
    Leonora had been right. Julie wasn’t what anyone would call a hardened criminal.
    “I realize you didn’t take anything.” Leonora sat in the chair at the desk. “But I want to know why you searched my satchel. I’m sure you can understand my concern.”
    “I was just curious, that’s all,”