Page 56 of The Note

“Was someone hurt?”

“It really has nothing to do with the hotel,” he reassured her in a casual tone.

“I was wondering if it was about the people who were arguing in that room on Saturday.”

“You heard an argument?”

“I certainly did. I had come back to the room to—well, I guess I can tell you the truth now that it’s legal. I came back for”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“a little toke on a vape.” She mimed taking a drag. “How utterly delightful to say that to a cop! Never could have predicted that in 1970.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been known to partake a little now and then.”

“Oh, that is wonderful!”

He rocked on his heels. “So … the argument?”

“Yes, I could hear their voices even as I was coming down the hall. The woman was definitely not happy. She was calling him every name in the book. My husband would have walked right out the door if I went off on him like that. I could hear the man’s voice but it was lower. I wasn’t ableto make out what he was saying. I enjoyed my little toot, and back out to the beach I went. They were still at it when I left.”

“Could you tell what they were fighting about?” He was inclined to believe Christine’s account of the argument, but a third party’s corroboration would lock that piece of the picture in place.

She shook her head. “Of course, that didn’t keep me from speculating. My theory was that it had something to do with him being on the phone Friday night—or I guess it was technically Saturday morning.”

This woman in the muumuu was just full of information. “You could hear that, too?”

“Not the actual words, no. But I could tell it was a man’s voice. He was out on his terrace. I peeked through the curtains and could see he was on his cell. I wanted Hal—that’s my husband—to tell him to keep it down, but Hal said that’s how people get shot these days. Isn’t that insane?”

That was one word for it. “Did the phone call sound acrimonious? Was he yelling or any other indication of an argument?”

She squinted as if she was trying to remember. “I honestly don’t know.”

“What time was this?”

“Late. The clock said one-forty when he woke me up.”

It was the call he had seen in Smith’s phone log, the Rhode Island number that he had not beenable to trace. “Anything else you remember about the couple or what you may have heard?”

“Well, when I came back to the room later on Saturday, the male half passed me in the hallway in the other direction. He was carrying a black plastic bag tied up at the top. I think it was garbage.”

“Got it.” It would line up with Christine’s account of the broken bird figurine that had disappeared from Smith’s room. “Anything else?”

“Nope. That’s it. But you’re sure we’re safe? Like, wink your right eye if you think Hal and I should get the hell out of here?”

“You and Hal are all good,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t toke and drive though, okay?”

She smiled slyly. “It’s a deal.”

*

Carter was finishing a second search of David Smith’s suitcase when his phone rang. The city number was familiar.

“Decker,” he said.

“It’s May Hanover. I need you to listen to me.” The trepidation that had been in her voice when he called her two hours earlier was gone now. Her tone was confident and urgent.

“I’m definitely listening,” he said.

“You know that Kelsey’s husband was shot, right? In Boston? They were on the verge of divorce.”

“Luke,” he said.

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