Steamed

you! I told him all he had to do was go upstairs and look at your apartment.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about or why he’d ask you about paint. But apparently you’ve survived your brush with the law, so just relax, Noah,” I fired back.
    “Well, now that you’ve had your little revenge, you can leave me out of your police conversations,” he said as he turned and headed back downstairs—but only after giving Adrianna the once-over again. “It was nice seeing you.” Adrianna took a step forward as though she was going to leap after him and clobber the jerk. I grabbed her hand but couldn’t stop her from yelling, “Don’t you even look at me, you big, dirty male slut!”
    “Stop, Ade!” I said, laughing. “You’re the one who said it’s not worth it.”
    “Oh God! He is so annoying. In fact”—she paused dramatically—“I found Noah threatening and potentially violent just now! He very well could have murdered Eric.” Don t be idiotic. You may have been threatening and potentially violent just now, but Noah wasn’t. Of course he didn’t murder Eric. He has no motive whatsoever. He obviously doesn’t give a damn about me and apparently had his hands full with Tank-Top Woman at the time of the murder.”
    “Fine,” she conceded. “He didn’t murder Eric. But I don’t know what you were thinking hooking up with him.”
    I shook my head at my own idiocy. “I have no idea either. I really don’t.”
    After Adrianna left, I sat in the sunshine on my makeshift balcony and finished my coffee. The phone rang twice, but I let voice mail pick up. The third call finally got me out of my chair. “Yes,” I answered irritably.
    “Chloe? It’s Detective Hurley here. From the other night.”
    “Of, course. Hi.” Like I knew thousands of detectives all over Boston. I bet that damn Noah had tried to incriminate me in Eric’s murder. Why did I have to paint everything? Hurley was probably calling to say he was on his way over to arrest me. Wait. Wouldn’t he just show up with handcuffs?
    “Listen, I’m just calling to check in. To see if you remembered anything else from Sunday.” He sounded tired, and I had a suspicion that his hair was as wild and uncombed as when I’d met him. He struck me as a chronically chaotic-looking person.
    “Honestly, not really. Um... I think I told you everything I could think of.”
    “Can we just go over who you saw at the restaurant again? Tell me all the staff members you can remember seeing.”
    I listed off everyone I’d met: Joelle, Tim, Garrett, Cassie, Ian, and the kitchen staff I’d seen but hadn’t actually met.
    “So only one chef? Or one person in a chef’s coat?” Hurley asked.
    “Well, I don’t know. I know Garrett was wearing one, obviously, but I think the other guys in the kitchen were wearing them, too. Only theirs weren’t as nice. You know, cheaper looking. But I wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest with you. Does that help?” I felt like a lousy witness. If I’d known these sorts of details were going to become important, I’d have studied everyone there.
    The detective continued. “Okay, now about the phone call Eric had. Could you go over that again?”
    Again, I had nothing to offer this earnest detective— except a slight concern about Noah’s casting suspicion on me with his paint comment. “Urn, listen. My neighbor, Noah, just stopped by. He said you came over and were asking him about paint? Was there paint in the men’s room? On that knife? I didn’t see any on Eric’s body at all. Or on Eric, for that matter. Before. And Noah said he told you that I paint all the time. In fact, I was painting last weekend. Calm, brown tones. I was trying to tidy up my place. Give it a little bit of a Zen feel, you know. But I took a shower before I saw Eric, of course. I hope you don’t think I did anything wrong.” I was blathering on in what increasingly felt like the manner of a murderer trying to convince the police of her innocence.
    “No, you’re not a suspect at this time. But I can’t comment on the investigation.” Sounded like some phrase he learned in detective school. But at least I was off the hook. He continued asking me about other people I’d seen that night, and I did my best to describe everything and everyone I could remember. None of it seemed helpful, and I was pretty sure that none of my information was going to blow this case wide open, as detectives and reporters said in