I’ve asked them. We’re starting over. Assume I know nothing, okay? Because I don’t.”
“What’s to know? Julie got in her car on July third to drive to Baltimore and we never saw her again.”
“Yes, that’s according to the guy who worked for her.”
“The chef .” Said with some disdain. Well, given Andrea Norr’s tea, she probably didn’t put a lot of stock in preparing food.
“But when was the last time you saw her before that day?”
She twisted in her chair, like a little kid playing with a swivel seat, although this chair was rigid, with no swing to it. “It had been almost six months.”
“Six months? So you weren’t close.”
“We were. Once.”
“What happened?”
“We had . . . words.”
There it was again, another strange usage. We had words . Everyone has words. Sandy and Andrea Norr were having words right now. What a useless euphemism. The phrases that people used to make things prettier never worked.
“About?”
“I thought she was stupid, expanding the inn, adding a restaurant. I didn’t think it was the smart thing to do.”
“Did you have an interest in the place? A financial interest?”
“No.”
“Was she trying to borrow money from you?”
“No.” She clearly knew where he was headed and decided to jump the gun. “We didn’t have any money issues between us. I just thought it was a bum idea. The inn was doing fine as a B and B. She was making things unnecessarily complicated for herself. She had always made things unnecessarily complicated for herself, getting into messes and running to me, as if I could help her. I couldn’t.”
“Messes like what?”
If only people knew how obvious their lies were, at least to him. Maybe then they wouldn’t bother with them. “Nothing important,” she said, and he knew it was at least somewhat important.
“Messes involving Felix.”
She shrugged. “He was married. That’s always a mess. A big stupid mess that everyone saw coming but her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Same old story. She fell in love with him. He had a wife. He had always had girlfriends at the club, but he wasn’t going to leave his wife. He had a wife, a steady girl, and more girls on the side. Julie thought she was so sophisticated, thought she knew what she was doing. Me, I never got the big attraction. He was short, nothing to look at it. Sure, he had money, and he bought her things, but so what?”
“Didn’t he set her up, after he left?”
“Who told you that?” Defensive. Okay, it was gossip, pure and simple, but gossip wasn’t always wrong. Someone had staked Julie Saxony.
“Did he or didn’t he?”
“He gave her this little coffee shop on Baltimore Street. That’s all, as far as I knew. But she was good at running things. She parlayed up.”
“That’s a big parlay, from a coffee shop on Baltimore Street to an inn on the verge of opening a restaurant.”
“Look, I know what I know. I can’t tell you what I don’t. We weren’t in each other’s pockets. I never asked her for money, she never asked me. We were brought up to take care of ourselves.”
“And where was that?”
“Aw, c’mon, you know this stuff. You told me you read the file. You probably know more than I do.”
“I have to pretend I don’t.”
Andrea Norr sighed.
“We were born in West Virginia. Most of our parents’ friends had the gumption to leave during World War II, get factory jobs in Baltimore. Ours didn’t, which tells you everything about them that you need to know. They’ve been dead for years, since before Julie disappeared. We left when we were teenagers. Two giddy girls with a VW bus and four suitcases. Three of them Julie’s. She was the pretty one. That was okay with me.”
Interesting that she provided that detail automatically, as if it were still uppermost in her mind. It wasn’t like he was going to ask. Wonder, but not ask.
“We rented a room on Biddle Street and got hired at Rexall Drugs. Clerks. One day, two
“What’s to know? Julie got in her car on July third to drive to Baltimore and we never saw her again.”
“Yes, that’s according to the guy who worked for her.”
“The chef .” Said with some disdain. Well, given Andrea Norr’s tea, she probably didn’t put a lot of stock in preparing food.
“But when was the last time you saw her before that day?”
She twisted in her chair, like a little kid playing with a swivel seat, although this chair was rigid, with no swing to it. “It had been almost six months.”
“Six months? So you weren’t close.”
“We were. Once.”
“What happened?”
“We had . . . words.”
There it was again, another strange usage. We had words . Everyone has words. Sandy and Andrea Norr were having words right now. What a useless euphemism. The phrases that people used to make things prettier never worked.
“About?”
“I thought she was stupid, expanding the inn, adding a restaurant. I didn’t think it was the smart thing to do.”
“Did you have an interest in the place? A financial interest?”
“No.”
“Was she trying to borrow money from you?”
“No.” She clearly knew where he was headed and decided to jump the gun. “We didn’t have any money issues between us. I just thought it was a bum idea. The inn was doing fine as a B and B. She was making things unnecessarily complicated for herself. She had always made things unnecessarily complicated for herself, getting into messes and running to me, as if I could help her. I couldn’t.”
“Messes like what?”
If only people knew how obvious their lies were, at least to him. Maybe then they wouldn’t bother with them. “Nothing important,” she said, and he knew it was at least somewhat important.
“Messes involving Felix.”
She shrugged. “He was married. That’s always a mess. A big stupid mess that everyone saw coming but her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Same old story. She fell in love with him. He had a wife. He had always had girlfriends at the club, but he wasn’t going to leave his wife. He had a wife, a steady girl, and more girls on the side. Julie thought she was so sophisticated, thought she knew what she was doing. Me, I never got the big attraction. He was short, nothing to look at it. Sure, he had money, and he bought her things, but so what?”
“Didn’t he set her up, after he left?”
“Who told you that?” Defensive. Okay, it was gossip, pure and simple, but gossip wasn’t always wrong. Someone had staked Julie Saxony.
“Did he or didn’t he?”
“He gave her this little coffee shop on Baltimore Street. That’s all, as far as I knew. But she was good at running things. She parlayed up.”
“That’s a big parlay, from a coffee shop on Baltimore Street to an inn on the verge of opening a restaurant.”
“Look, I know what I know. I can’t tell you what I don’t. We weren’t in each other’s pockets. I never asked her for money, she never asked me. We were brought up to take care of ourselves.”
“And where was that?”
“Aw, c’mon, you know this stuff. You told me you read the file. You probably know more than I do.”
“I have to pretend I don’t.”
Andrea Norr sighed.
“We were born in West Virginia. Most of our parents’ friends had the gumption to leave during World War II, get factory jobs in Baltimore. Ours didn’t, which tells you everything about them that you need to know. They’ve been dead for years, since before Julie disappeared. We left when we were teenagers. Two giddy girls with a VW bus and four suitcases. Three of them Julie’s. She was the pretty one. That was okay with me.”
Interesting that she provided that detail automatically, as if it were still uppermost in her mind. It wasn’t like he was going to ask. Wonder, but not ask.
“We rented a room on Biddle Street and got hired at Rexall Drugs. Clerks. One day, two
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