The Bone Bed

press
answer.
    “Watch and wait.” Benton drives in. “Let him go through a few quarts and pass out in his chair. He probably never knew what hit him.”
    “I’m pulling in now,” I say to my chief of staff.
    “Oh my God, have I got news.” He’s so keyed up I have to turn my volume down.
    “There should be people waiting for us—” I start to say.
    “You were expecting them? Oh, Lord. I made them wait in the lobby.”
    “You what?”
    “Love, love the cat. Little Shaw’s in perfect cat health.” He says
purrfect
. “Okay, hold on, I’m calling Ron now, gonna get him on his cell, sure am sorry. It would be helpful if you’d let me know things like this, for God’s sake. Ron? You can escort them up immediately. I didn’t know they were expected; no one tells me anything.
    “I certainly apologize, but if you would just inform me? I had no idea?” Bryce is back to me, and I can’t get in a word. “Well, Shaw almost got all A-pluses. A touch of dry skin, a little anemic, vet says it’s best she’s not left alone all the time, since she used to be with someone rather constantly until the bad thing happened, not to mention she’s been traumatized. And Ethan works out of his home office three days a week, and I think we should keep her, especially after the scare with Indy, who’s fine, thanks for asking—”
    “Bryce!” I interrupt him for the third time.
    “What!”
    “Why would you make the FBI wait in our lobby,” I ask. “Or have them escorted up by security?”
    “No. Oh, no, the two women agents? Not them. Oh, Lord, I didn’t realize . . . They’re in the war room and not who I meant, oh, shit.” He sounds shocked. “Hold on, hold on, let me catch him. Ron! Don’t escort them up. You’re with them now? Oh, shit,” he says.

thirty-four
    I FAULT HIM FOR NOT MAKING AN APPOINTMENT AND then showing up unannounced at the CFC, but I can’t say he has no right to talk to me. I decide that Channing Lott and his companions are to be brought upstairs.
    “Just give me a minute to get settled,” I instruct Bryce over my cell phone. “Take them into the break room, get them water, coffee. I can see them for a few minutes only. Please explain I’m late for a meeting. I’ll text you when I’m ready, and you can bring them to my office.”
    I push the elevator button for the seventh floor and know what Benton is going to insist on, but it’s out of the question.
    “Kay, I should be with you—” he begins, and I don’t let him finish.
    I shake my head. “It’s no more appropriate for you to sit in on whatever he wants to discuss than it would be if he were any family member, any other loved one of the deceased. He’s the husband of someone whose case is mine.”
    “Her body’s not been found. She’s not your case.”
    “I’ve been consulted about her, and he knows it. I’ve testified about her in his trial, and in his mind she’s my case. She has to be somebody’s case, for God’s sake, because it’s highly improbable she’s still alive. Let’s face it, she’s no more alive than Emma Shubert is.”
    “You can’t make that connection based on fact.” The way he says it is revealing.
    “I know when people aren’t going to walk through a door ever again, Benton.” I study him carefully. “Those women are dead.”
    He says nothing because he believes it, too. He knows more than he’s saying. I think of the meeting I’m about to be quite late for, but whatever is happening will have to wait.
    “What if Channing Lott really didn’t have anything to do with his wife’s disappearance and people like me won’t talk to him?” I ask.
    “People like you?”
    “I have to, Benton.”
    “This is dangerous, Kay.”
    “We’re obliged to respect that he’s been acquitted of her murder for hire, and what’s dangerous is to assume he’s not grieving, not distraught, not devastated.” I’m firm. It’s not negotiable. “I won’t have the FBI sitting in. In fact, the FBI has interfered with my office enough.”
    “I’m not trying to interfere. I’m trying to protect you.”
    “I know you are.” I look at him and can see how unhappy he is. “And I can’t allow it.”
    He realizes when arguing will be fruitless, and while I always listen to his opinions and what he warns me about, I have to handle my responsibilities the way I know is right. If I weren’t his wife he’d never make the suggestion he just did. Inside the CFC there are no suspects, no