was she in their sights simply because she’d been at the dinner? Weren’t the last people to see someone alive always possible suspects? Plus she was a woman. By now, Keaton’s sheets—and the used condom, if Keaton had left it by the bed—had clearly given away what he’d been doing during the hours before his death.
The detectives’ interest in her might have been heightened by whatever Steve had told them. He was supposed to be a friend, buthe’d thrown her under the bus, and she had no clue why. If he’d driven by her last night, why not pull over and offer her a lift? Had he not stopped because he’d seen her searching for a particular building? Had he told the police that?
She glanced back down at the page open on her laptop. How was she ever going to be able to concentrate enough to pull her presentation together?
A sound in the doorway jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Dr. Levin standing there.
“Sorry if I startled you,” he said. “It seems we’re all on edge at the moment.”
“Yes, it’s awful.”
“The police tell me they’re almost done, for the time being. As soon as they’re gone, and I’m done with my final procedure, we should talk—you, me, and the other doctors. We need to know how to handle this from a PR standpoint.”
As he spoke Lake realized that she should have been the one making this recommendation, but she’d been too crazed to think straight.
“Absolutely,” she said. “I have some suggestions I can make.”
He nodded soberly. “Let’s say about four then.”
“By the way,” she said as he turned to leave. “Reporters will start to call. Until we’ve discussed a plan, you shouldn’t talk to anyone. And tell the staff not to.”
A short while later she became aware of staff moving up and down the corridor, and Lake figured the detectives had probably gone. She decided she needed to get out of the office for a few minutes, to try to calm herself before her meeting with Levin, and think of what advice she should offer. On her way out Lake saw that the receptionist was the only one in the waiting room—sitting grim-faced, twirling a strand of her hair.
Lake was halfway down Eighty-third Street, headed towardLexington Avenue, when she heard her name called and turned to see Steve hurrying up behind her. He was still wearing his white lab coat, as if he’d dashed out when he saw her leaving.
“You okay?” he asked when he caught up to her. His brown eyes looked worried.
“Not ideal,” she said. “It’s pretty upsetting.”
“I know,” he said. “Sorry you got stuck in the middle of this.”
“Well, you haven’t made it easier for me,” she said. She surprised herself by her bluntness.
“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly perplexed.
“You told the police you saw me wandering around SoHo last night.”
He drew a breath. “But—I don’t understand—what’s the problem with that?”
“They seem to find that suspicious,” Lake said.
“God, Lake, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
“Just that I saw you as I was driving home. They asked when I’d last seen each person who’d attended the dinner, so I mentioned that I spotted you after we’d picked up the car.”
“I was looking for a cab.”
“Well, there’s hardly anything wrong with that,” he said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t stop for me.”
He sighed and glanced off to the left.
“I should have. But to be honest, I was having a pretty intense discussion with Hilary. It would have been awkward.”
Lake wondered if it was about how flirty Hilary had been with Keaton during dinner.
“Is that all you told them then?” Lake asked.
“What do you mean?” Steve said. “What else would I tell them?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want to be caught off guard again.”
“That was it—and again, I’m sorry. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I’m just feeling a little rattled,” she
The detectives’ interest in her might have been heightened by whatever Steve had told them. He was supposed to be a friend, buthe’d thrown her under the bus, and she had no clue why. If he’d driven by her last night, why not pull over and offer her a lift? Had he not stopped because he’d seen her searching for a particular building? Had he told the police that?
She glanced back down at the page open on her laptop. How was she ever going to be able to concentrate enough to pull her presentation together?
A sound in the doorway jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Dr. Levin standing there.
“Sorry if I startled you,” he said. “It seems we’re all on edge at the moment.”
“Yes, it’s awful.”
“The police tell me they’re almost done, for the time being. As soon as they’re gone, and I’m done with my final procedure, we should talk—you, me, and the other doctors. We need to know how to handle this from a PR standpoint.”
As he spoke Lake realized that she should have been the one making this recommendation, but she’d been too crazed to think straight.
“Absolutely,” she said. “I have some suggestions I can make.”
He nodded soberly. “Let’s say about four then.”
“By the way,” she said as he turned to leave. “Reporters will start to call. Until we’ve discussed a plan, you shouldn’t talk to anyone. And tell the staff not to.”
A short while later she became aware of staff moving up and down the corridor, and Lake figured the detectives had probably gone. She decided she needed to get out of the office for a few minutes, to try to calm herself before her meeting with Levin, and think of what advice she should offer. On her way out Lake saw that the receptionist was the only one in the waiting room—sitting grim-faced, twirling a strand of her hair.
Lake was halfway down Eighty-third Street, headed towardLexington Avenue, when she heard her name called and turned to see Steve hurrying up behind her. He was still wearing his white lab coat, as if he’d dashed out when he saw her leaving.
“You okay?” he asked when he caught up to her. His brown eyes looked worried.
“Not ideal,” she said. “It’s pretty upsetting.”
“I know,” he said. “Sorry you got stuck in the middle of this.”
“Well, you haven’t made it easier for me,” she said. She surprised herself by her bluntness.
“What do you mean?” he asked, clearly perplexed.
“You told the police you saw me wandering around SoHo last night.”
He drew a breath. “But—I don’t understand—what’s the problem with that?”
“They seem to find that suspicious,” Lake said.
“God, Lake, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
“Just that I saw you as I was driving home. They asked when I’d last seen each person who’d attended the dinner, so I mentioned that I spotted you after we’d picked up the car.”
“I was looking for a cab.”
“Well, there’s hardly anything wrong with that,” he said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t stop for me.”
He sighed and glanced off to the left.
“I should have. But to be honest, I was having a pretty intense discussion with Hilary. It would have been awkward.”
Lake wondered if it was about how flirty Hilary had been with Keaton during dinner.
“Is that all you told them then?” Lake asked.
“What do you mean?” Steve said. “What else would I tell them?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want to be caught off guard again.”
“That was it—and again, I’m sorry. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I’m just feeling a little rattled,” she
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