“He claims that I didn’t have the box when I came down.”
He offers a look that’s starting to become familiar—that suspicious squint.
“You don’t seem like a person to make a mistake like that.” He leans back, still with those watchful eyes on me, like he’s trying to figure me out, see beneath my surface. But maybe that’s just his way, occupational hazard.
“I’m not,” I say.
He offers a slow nod. “So what do you think happened?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe he just screwed up and tried to cover.”
“Can I see it?”
I consider it. What would Olivia say? “I’ll surrender the box to you after I’ve consulted with my attorney.”
He lifts his palms. “Okay.”
“They were just pictures of Dana, though, things he’d collected over her lifetime. A letter, which somehow got lost. I thought she might find it healing, to know that he followed the events of her life.”
He steeples his fingers, which I’ve read is the gesture of someone supremely confident. It tracks. “That thing on your mantel.”
He doesn’t look behind him but my eyes drift there.
“Dana was wearing a necklace with the same symbol,” he says.
Did he notice Chad’s necklace, as well? I put the one Ella gave me on my desk.
I decide to channel Dr. Black. “It’s a fairly common symbol. The palm represents abundance. The stones in the center are the evil eye charm, meant to protect you from ill will.”
“Doesn’t seem to be working.”
My phone rings then, and we both look at it buzzing on the table. Olivia.
When the call engages, she’s already talking. Well, yelling sort of. “What was it about ‘don’t talk to the police’ that you didn’t understand, Rosie?”
He bows his head, digs his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket.
“Olivia, you’re on speaker. The detective is here.”
Silence. She clears her throat.
“My client will not be speaking any further without my presence. Please leave her residence. You do not have permission to search without a warrant. Do you have one?”
“No,” he says, rising, beaten. He informs Olivia that this is now a homicide investigation. There’s another silence, this one surprise I’m guessing, but she quickly recovers.
“Please contact my assistant, and my clients will come in and speak to you at their convenience.”
The detective moves reluctantly toward the door, face blank with annoyance, eyes still roving.
“Rosie, don’t hang up until he leaves.”
I show the detective into the elevator foyer and press the button for George.
“I’ll need to speak to your doorman,” says Detective Crowe. “Abi, you said?”
I nod, feel guilty for throwing Abi under the bus, but what I told the detective was the truth.
“That’s not our problem,” says Olivia’s disembodied voice, tinny on my phone speaker. “As long as you’re not speaking to Chad or Rosie Lowan without me.”