Page 92 of Nobody's Fool

“What kind of assignments?” Gary asks.

“Mostly background and research. There might be some surveillance too.”

“What’s the second case?” Polly asks.

I swallow because this is hard to say. “The murder of Nicole Brett.”

Silence.

They all know.

I figure one of them will ask a question. But none of them do. They just sit in silence and wait.

I clear my throat. “A man named Tad Grayson was convicted of the murder, but he was recently released from prison on a technicality. If we can get enough new evidence, perhaps we can get the Manhattan DA to retry him. Nicole Brett was a decorated rookie police officer with the NYPD when Tad Grayson gunned her down. She was—”

My voice catches. I stop for a second.

Polly stands. “We know who she was, Kierce.”

I look around at the solemn, pitying faces and say, “I’ll brief everyone on their assignments.”

Thomas Belmond’s converted farmhouse is stone and tasteful and rich and clean and decorated like it’s ready for itsArchitectural Digestclose-up. Thomas and his wife, Madeline, also fit the bill. Thomas looks like he’s getting off a yacht in Hyannis Port. He is youthful and healthy and tan. He sports an untucked blue Oxford shirt, jeans, sockless loafers. His face is beneath-the-skin clean-shaven and glowing. Madeline is a central casting match for him. She is lovely and blond and trim and has perfect skin and perfect teeth. Neither has a sweater tied around the neck, but I feel as though they should.

One of their two daughters bounds down the stairs as I arrive.

“Carly is picking me up in two,” she says to her parents, not yet seeing me. “Stacy’s upstairs studying. She’s got the Calculus midterms.”

Vicki notices me and before her parents need to prompt her, she comes over to me and sticks out her hand. “Hi, I’m Vicki.”

“I’m Sami Kierce.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kierce.”

Vicki smiles at me with Mom’s perfect smile. I smile back. She isa breath of fresh air, the sort of person who walks in a room and you can’t help but feel the room is made better. Her parents understandably beam. I know from the bios the Pink Panthers prepared that Vicki is eighteen, a senior in high school, and it strikes me how youthful and vibrant she is, even during this short meet and greet, and how she is at the exact same stage of life as her aunt Victoria was when she vanished.

“What time will you be back?” her father asks.

“Not long. We’re just going to watchThe Bachelorat Jamie’s.”

Vicki hugs her parents. Not a duteous touch. A bona fide embrace. Both Thomas and Madeline close their eyes and soak it in. It almost feels unreal to me, like I’m watching a performance, except there is the definitive whiff of authenticity to it. This isn’t a show for me. This is what they’re like.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kierce,” Vicki says, heading to the front door.

“You too,” I say.

A moment later, Vicki is gone. We all just stand there as though a tornado has passed through and left everything intact.

“Please,” Madeline says. “Let’s sit in the living room.”

They take the plush sofa with floral patterns. I take a matching armchair across from them.

“Would you like something to drink, Mr. Kierce?” Madeline asks me.

I tell her to call me Sami and say that I’ll have what they’re having. Turns out it’s iced tea. It’s too late at night for iced tea, but I find some people get comforted when you accept their hospitality.

Thomas crosses his legs, then uncrosses them. He tries to smile but it falters. Then he says to me, “I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“This being?” I ask.

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