Page 46 of So Bleak

With the argument over, Turk trotted away and began sniffing around the scene.

“Coroner’s. Preliminary report confirms the presence of the poison in his system.”

“Do we have a name?” Faith asked.

“Yeah, Samuel Klein. Sixty-two. Minor celebrity in the food world, but more major than anyone else so far. He used to run the Rose City Steakhouse. I guess that’s a big-name steakhouse in New York. He retired from the restaurant business two years ago and now runs a podcast called, uh…” He consulted his notepad. “Perfect Bites. Not so much a critic as a food philosopher.”

“A food philosopher,” Michael repeated drily.

“Hey, I don’t judge.”

“Well, our killer sure did,” Faith said. “What were the symptoms this time?”

“Same as Lila Vance. Started sweating and salivating profusely. Tried to stand, then dropped. Dead by the time the ambulance got there.”

“And this didn’t get out to the media?” Michael asked. “No one texted their friends or family or posted on social media?”

"I don't know about the texts or phone calls, but we haven't seen anything pop up on social media. We know we're sitting on a time bomb with that, though, so I know we'll end up seeing something before the end of the day. Mainstream media won't be kept in the dark for long either."

Michael sighed. “Okay, well, let’s take advantage of the time we have. You said CSI’s been here already?”

“They have. Nothing on the server or in the food, just like the other times."

"Okay. In that case, I'm going to let Turk case the scene. I'm going to review the security footage. Faith, you can work with me or with Turk."

“Actually, I have the wife outside if you want to talk to her,” Howard offered.

“Klein’s wife? She’s here?”

“Yeah, she’s out back.”

Michael sighed. “Man, you really need to work on communicating things to us right away. All right, Faith, do you want to interview Mrs. Klein?”

Faith nodded. “Sure. I can do that.”

“I’ll take you to her,” Howard offered.

He led Faith away, probably just happy to be away from Michael. He confirmed Faith’s assumption a moment later when he said, “Christ, is he always in such a bad mood?”

“He tends to be unhappy when a critical development in a case is withheld from him,” Faith replied coldly.

Howard wisely chose to keep his mouth shut until they reached the back of the restaurant. He led Faith to a woman in her late forties who sat at a small table probably used for staff breaks by the restaurant. She was smoking a cigarette, and Faith couldn’t tell if she was sad or angry. Grief often manifested both emotions.

“Mrs. Klein?” Howard said, “This is Special Agent Faith Bold of the FBI. She’s investigating your husband’s murder. She’d like to ask you a few questions if that’s all right.”

Mrs. Klein looked Faith up and down. “You’re the one that’s all over tv now.”

Faith tensed slightly. “Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”

“You have time to work with the whole media circus over Franklin West?”

“I assure you, ma’am, this case has my full attention.”

Mrs. Klein nodded and took another drag from her cigarette. “All right. I’ll talk to you. I’m Millie, by the way. No need to be so formal.”

“Thank you, Millie.”

Faith sat across from the widow and looked pointedly at Howard, who took the hint and said, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

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