block.”
“I’d rather go to the hotel restaurant.”
Quinn thought that was a good idea. The restaurant would likely be more conducive to conversation.
He found himself wondering if Rena Collins had something more than conversation in mind. He’d seen it work that way, the near proximity of death acting as an aphrodisiac, a lusting for its polar opposite. At the end, underlying everything, we all wanted to live. We wanted life for ourselves and for everyone we loved.
He told himself not to be an idiot. This woman didn’t want a roll in the hay with an aging ex-cop. She wouldn’t get one, in any event. She had just gazed on the remains of her dead daughter. He was at least partly responsible for having her do that, and he was responsible for whatever might happen after.
Quinn was still plagued by guilt for what he’d contemplated, when he turned the Lincoln over to a hotel parking valet. He let Rena go ahead of him and then stepped in behind her and provided most of the power for the revolving glass door. They entered the cool lobby.
The restaurant was serving lunch and was already crowded, so they went into the nearby bar and found a booth that afforded relative privacy. Three flat-screen TVs over the bar were showing last night’s Yankees–Red Sox game, but the volume was off. Rena ordered a Diet Coke with a lemon, and Quinn asked for a cup of coffee.
When their drinks came, he added cream to his cup and stirred, and watched her squeeze her lemon wedge and drop it in the Coke. She stirred the ice deftly with her forefinger and then sipped from the glass, ignoring the straw that had been delivered with the drink. When she placed the glass back on its coaster, she pressed her cool hand to her forehead for a moment, then looked at him.
“Isn’t it warm out to be drinking coffee?” she asked.
He smiled. “Cops would drink coffee in hell.”
She sighed, knowing that even though this was her idea, they weren’t there for small talk. Cops would be cops in hell. “You want to discuss Macy.”
“There are things I need to know,” he said. “You okay with that, or would you rather we do it later?”
“Now’s all right.” Another sip of Coke. Another cold palm pressed to the forehead.
“This might sound obvious,” Quinn said, “but did Macy have any enemies?”
“Somebody who might do such a ghastly thing to a twenty-one-year-old girl? No, of course not. But then ...”
“What?”
“Obviously she did have such an enemy.”
“What about at school?” Quinn asked.
“We were in contact. I would have known about any sort of serious issue. Every indication was that things were going well at school. Macy liked being away from home, out on her own. She was proud of it. That’s why she decided to stay in New York instead of coming home for the summer. And she was interested in her job, interning at a law firm. Enders and Coil. Do you know it?”
“Know of it,” Quinn said. “Big firm.”
“Odd that she’d be so interested in a job like that. She was always kind of a counter-culture rebel, more the public defender type.”
“Did she know the girls she subleased from?”
“Not at all. She found the place on a school bulletin board.”
“They aren’t students at Waycliffe.”
“True, but they know where to look for someone who can afford to sublease their apartment when they leave the city.”
“Did they all leave town?”
“For the summer, yes. All but one of them.”
“Jacqui Stoneman?”
“I think so.”
“Stoneman left ten days ago,” Quinn said. “The super and the other two girls said she’s backpacking around Europe. She isn’t due home for another month.”
Rena nodded. She managed to sip her drink without using her palm to cool her forehead.
“So Macy knew no one in New York?” Quinn asked.
“Not well. Other than some of the people she worked with at the law firm. She did mention someone, an older woman named Sarah. And maybe she was a casual acquaintance
“I’d rather go to the hotel restaurant.”
Quinn thought that was a good idea. The restaurant would likely be more conducive to conversation.
He found himself wondering if Rena Collins had something more than conversation in mind. He’d seen it work that way, the near proximity of death acting as an aphrodisiac, a lusting for its polar opposite. At the end, underlying everything, we all wanted to live. We wanted life for ourselves and for everyone we loved.
He told himself not to be an idiot. This woman didn’t want a roll in the hay with an aging ex-cop. She wouldn’t get one, in any event. She had just gazed on the remains of her dead daughter. He was at least partly responsible for having her do that, and he was responsible for whatever might happen after.
Quinn was still plagued by guilt for what he’d contemplated, when he turned the Lincoln over to a hotel parking valet. He let Rena go ahead of him and then stepped in behind her and provided most of the power for the revolving glass door. They entered the cool lobby.
The restaurant was serving lunch and was already crowded, so they went into the nearby bar and found a booth that afforded relative privacy. Three flat-screen TVs over the bar were showing last night’s Yankees–Red Sox game, but the volume was off. Rena ordered a Diet Coke with a lemon, and Quinn asked for a cup of coffee.
When their drinks came, he added cream to his cup and stirred, and watched her squeeze her lemon wedge and drop it in the Coke. She stirred the ice deftly with her forefinger and then sipped from the glass, ignoring the straw that had been delivered with the drink. When she placed the glass back on its coaster, she pressed her cool hand to her forehead for a moment, then looked at him.
“Isn’t it warm out to be drinking coffee?” she asked.
He smiled. “Cops would drink coffee in hell.”
She sighed, knowing that even though this was her idea, they weren’t there for small talk. Cops would be cops in hell. “You want to discuss Macy.”
“There are things I need to know,” he said. “You okay with that, or would you rather we do it later?”
“Now’s all right.” Another sip of Coke. Another cold palm pressed to the forehead.
“This might sound obvious,” Quinn said, “but did Macy have any enemies?”
“Somebody who might do such a ghastly thing to a twenty-one-year-old girl? No, of course not. But then ...”
“What?”
“Obviously she did have such an enemy.”
“What about at school?” Quinn asked.
“We were in contact. I would have known about any sort of serious issue. Every indication was that things were going well at school. Macy liked being away from home, out on her own. She was proud of it. That’s why she decided to stay in New York instead of coming home for the summer. And she was interested in her job, interning at a law firm. Enders and Coil. Do you know it?”
“Know of it,” Quinn said. “Big firm.”
“Odd that she’d be so interested in a job like that. She was always kind of a counter-culture rebel, more the public defender type.”
“Did she know the girls she subleased from?”
“Not at all. She found the place on a school bulletin board.”
“They aren’t students at Waycliffe.”
“True, but they know where to look for someone who can afford to sublease their apartment when they leave the city.”
“Did they all leave town?”
“For the summer, yes. All but one of them.”
“Jacqui Stoneman?”
“I think so.”
“Stoneman left ten days ago,” Quinn said. “The super and the other two girls said she’s backpacking around Europe. She isn’t due home for another month.”
Rena nodded. She managed to sip her drink without using her palm to cool her forehead.
“So Macy knew no one in New York?” Quinn asked.
“Not well. Other than some of the people she worked with at the law firm. She did mention someone, an older woman named Sarah. And maybe she was a casual acquaintance
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