Page 29 of The Writer

Her cheeks go bright red. “It was actually Rihanna, but Idon’t blame you for not being able to tell the difference. It wasn’t exactly my finest moment.”

She doesn’t mention the bottle of Jim Beam she’d carried all night or the three minutes she’d spent in the copy room with Jonny Brandt. That’s how he got the nickname “Three-Minute Jonny.”

Cordova nods toward the door. “Can you close that?”

Declan nudges the door shut and takes a seat.

Susan produces a stack of Denise Morrow books from the canvas bag at her feet and sets them in neat piles on the table. Half of them bear stickers with raised print touting messages like#1 New York Times Bestseller!, Autographed Copy!, Advance Reader Copy,andSoon to Be a Major Motion Picture!As the impressive stack of titles grows, Declan can’t help thinking of Morrow’s current work in progress. The USB drive feels warm in his pocket.

Cordova pulls out a chair and sits. “Susan here is abigfan of Morrow’s. She runs her local fan club.”

“I don’trunit, I’m just the treasurer. But I help out as much as I can.”

“Help out how? What does a fan club do?”

“Mainly we work with the publishers and Denise’s marketing people. Help organize local appearances. Show up when we can to support her. They send us copies of her books before they come out, and we post about them on social media. Help create buzz. That sort of thing.”

Cordova says, “She was at Morrow’s bookstore appearance the other night out in Tribeca.”

Her face lights up. “We packed that place.”

“Did she seem off in any way?”

Susan shifts in her seat. “If you’re asking if she ducked out to kill her husband and then came back with guilt all over her face, the answer is no. She did not. As always, she was friendly. Attentive. She gave more or less the same talk she’d given at the Barnes and Noble on Fifth two weeks ago and at the Strand last month. Told the same stories. Made the same jokes. Just canned stuff for the paperback release ofWhy Corrine Had to Die.” She studies the stack of books and taps the spine of a hardcover with that title. “That’s last year’s release. Her new one won’t be out until March.” Her shoulders slump. “Look, I was sad to hear what happened to David, but I’ve known Denise for nearly six years, and I’d swear on my child’s life there is no way she hurt him. She’s just not like that.”

I’ve known Denise.

Those words jump out at Declan. Back in high school, he’d dated a girl who was in the Beyoncé fan club, and she talked about Beyoncé in much the same way—as if the two of them were best buds who chatted every night, had sleepovers every other weekend. But in truth, she’d met the famous singer only once, after standing in a very long line outside Madison Square Garden. Security hadn’t even allowed her to take a photo.

Cordova catches it too and silently mouths,Let it go. Rather than call her out, he plays into it. “Because Susan is so high up with the fan club, she’s sometimes involved directly with Denise Morrow’s publisher and she even introduced Morrow once at… what was it?”

“The Academy of Art Tribeca Ball. Denise was the keynote speaker.”

“Was David there?”

A disgusted look crosses her face. “Oh, he was there.”

“Tell him what you told me,” Cordova prods. “About David.”

Susan answers in a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, everyone knows she put him through med school. You ask me, he took advantage of her. You rarely saw them together, and when they were, they weren’t reallytogether, if you know what I mean.”

“What? Like an open marriage?”

“No. Nothing like that. Denise is loyal. Faithful to a fault. But that man was a dog. At one point during the ball, he was surrounded by women and he was not shy about flirting. He clearly didn’t care who saw, andeveryonedid. A few hours in, the whole party was talking. Denise pretended not to notice. She kept smiling, working the crowd, making small talk. Thing was, she was drinking, and Deniseneverdrinks. Not like that. One drink turned into two. Two turned into four. I don’t know how many she had altogether, but when it was time for her to make her speech, she was slurring her words. And David had vanished. Off doing God knows what. Missed her entire talk. Half an hour later, Denise found him and they had this blowout argument near the bathrooms. Someone managed to rush them out, but not before a reporter from Page Six got an eyeful. There was a story the next day. I felt so bad for her.”

Declan exchanges a look with Cordova, then asks her, “Did you ever learn where he went? Or who he was with?”

She shakes her head. “There have always been rumors, but nothing specific.”

“Never about her, though? Always him?”

“Denise wouldnever. She’d leave him first. Honestly, even if she wanted to cheat, I don’t see how she could. The paparazzi follow her all around the city. Local celebrity and all that. Shecan’t sneeze without three reporters writing it up. You’ll find her in the society pages at least once a week.”

Declan retrieves his phone and loads up a picture of Geller Hoffman. “You ever see her with this guy?”

Susan takes his phone, studies the image carefully, then hands it back to him. “Her attorney? I’ve seen that guy with both of them. When they do charity functions, he’s usually at their table.”

“What about alone with Denise?”

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