Page 140 of Nobody's Fool

I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all good.”

“It’s not though. These people have lawyers who can crush you.”

“My lawyer is way better.”

Arthur smiles. “Truth.”

I tap his shoulder again and move past him. As I do, I look up and see Talia Belmond standing by a window. She looks down at me. Our eyes meet. I don’t know what to do. I raise my hand and give a small, stupid wave. She just stares back. I don’t know what to make of that.

I go inside where Gun Guy awaits me. He has one of those metal detector wands, though it looks slightly more high tech. “Empty your pockets,” he tells me, pure Airport-TSA in his tone. I do. He waves the wand over me. He pats me down, checking for a wire. I don’t have one. He is thorough. He knows what he’s doing.

“They’re waiting in the conservatory,” Gun Guy says.

“Does anybodynotrich refer to a room as a conservatory?”

“I’ll keep your phone and belongings safe for you.”

“Afraid I’ll get robbed?”

Gun Guy shakes his head.

“What?”

“I’m disappointed. I expect wittier rejoinders from you.”

“If it helps,” I say, “I’ve let myself down too.”

As I head toward the conservatory, I walk past Lenore Spikes. She doesn’t say anything either, just gives me a solemn look. I guess that I’m supposed to get some deeper meaning from this look too, but I don’t, so I give her a semisarcastic salute and enter.

Archie and Thomas, father and son, stand shoulder to shoulder, primed for my entrance. I get why. I have been joking around because that’s what I do, but I know that when we leave this room (er, conservatory)—and not to sound overly melodramatic—but our lives will never be the same.

“Where’s Talia?” I ask.

“She won’t be joining us,” Archie says. “Please have a seat.”

“You two sit,” I reply. “I need to stand and pace.”

Here we are, in this decked-out “conservatory,” and I can’t helpfeeling like I’m Hercule Poirot gathering all the suspects, except that there are only two in the room, and with the way I dress and act, the more probable detective hero I’m emanating here is Columbo. Like in that show, we all know the guilty parties. Sort of. With Columbo, he knows it right away. That’s the fun. We just wonder how he will catch them. I’m not that quick, but I catch on eventually.

The two men do sit. Thomas is wearing a white Oxford cotton shirt, khakis, loafers. Archie has a gray sweater vest over a blue shirt. Both cross their legs the same way, left ankle over right knee. I see the father-son echo in their faces, in their mannerisms, in the way they cross their legs.

I see no reason to ease my way into this. Not yet. So I start with Thomas.

“You lied about the night your sister disappeared,” I say without preamble. “You didn’t drop her off at McCabe’s Pub and head home. Victoria took your keys, so you couldn’t drive back, even if you wanted to. So instead, you sat in a bar down the street. Is that about right?”

Thomas looks over at his father. Archie says, “We know you’ve talked to Caroline Burkett.”

I’m not surprised. I figured at some point he would put people on me too. “I don’t care,” I say. I look back at Thomas. “Is that what happened? You stayed at a bar down the street? Victoria had your keys?”

Thomas simply nods. I start pacing.

“You told me before that you’d broken up with your girlfriend. A Lacy Monroe. You said she dumped you and you weren’t taking it well. That part was true. You also claimed that your sister called you, per the phone records at 11:04, and that her call went to voice mail. But it didn’t go to voice mail, did it?”

He looks at his father. His father nods at him.

“No,” Thomas says, “I sat on a barstool at that bar and I was getting drunker and drunker. The bartender told me I should leave. So I called her to tell her I had to go, but she didn’t answer. So I hung up.That’s why there’s no record of that. But a few minutes later, she saw my missed call on her phone.”

“And she called you back.”

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