She saw him look questioningly at Adam, who shrugged.
“Long day,” Brent said.
“Really? What did you do with your long day?” Joe asked him.
“We played tourist,” Brent said.
“Great,” Joe said. “Where’s Eileen? Didn’t she come with you?” he asked, looking worried.
“Eileen is fine. She called about five minutes ago and made her apologies. She’s tired and decided to stay home,” Adam explained.
“How was your day?” Adam asked Joe.
“Not bad,” Joe said, and glanced at Genevieve.
She smiled pleasantly at him but kept silent and played with the condensation on her glass, knowing she was too far beyond tipsy to safely speak. She focused on the music, which was really quite good, she decided. And the whiskey wasn’t half bad, either. In fact, the more she drank, the better it tasted.
Frowning, Joe returned his attention to Adam. “I talked to the Ravens, and also to Albee Bennet,” he said.
“Poor old Albee,” Genevieve put in, her words slurred.
“Is she all right?” Joe asked, looking at Nikki.
Trust a guy, Gen thought, to figure only a woman would have another woman figured out. Chauvinist. “I’m fine, and I can speak for myself white…quite well, thank you,” she told him, her delivery giving the lie to her words.
He studied her for a long moment, then clearly made the decision to ignore her. “Albee said that Thorne had traveled to research his book. He’d been to Richmond, Baltimore and Philly.”
“But…Thorne was the victim,” Nikki said.
Joe nodded. “He didn’t travel alone.”
“Aha! The butler did do it!” Genevieve said triumphantly and much too loudly.
They all stared at her.
Joe said, “Jared and Mary accompanied him on all his trips, along with Albee.”
Brent frowned. “The son and the sister-in-law. They would be at cross concerns, don’t you think?”
“I spoke with Mary. And I think she’d lie in a second flat to give Jared an alibi,” Joe said. “They’re sleeping together.”
“But she’s his aunt,” Nikki said.
“By marriage,” Joe said.
“I don’t care,” Genevieve offered. “That’s just…ewwww.”
“So you think Jared did it?” Adam asked thoughtfully.
“I don’t like him, so that probably adds to my conviction,” Joe said. “And there’s nothing to prove it. But he’s the major beneficiary, and the person supporting him—saying that he gave his father CPR, even though the body was found at the desk—is Mary. It bothered me from the beginning, the position of the body. Everything could have an explanation, but it’s all starting to add up.”
“And Jared Bigelow could look like Poe,” Genevieve announced happily.
Joe stared at her, frowning. “What the hell is she talking about?” he asked the table at large.
“Long story, better left for another day,” Adam said.
Joe groaned.
“In fact, I think I’ll get my driver and see Genevieve home,” Adam said.
Joe stood. “I’ll take her home,” he said in a tone that dared anyone to contradict him.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Genevieve said, and stared at Joe, trying to focus. It would have helped a lot if his head had stayed still. “Don’t you want dinner? And what if I want to stay?”
Joe ignored her and turned to Brent. “Are we still heading out tomorrow?” When Brent nodded, Joe added, “Do you mind an early start?”
“No problem,” Brent said. “How early?”
“Six. We’ll make it on down to Richmond, stay there overnight, then hit Baltimore on the way back.”
“I’ll arrange for a larger car,” Adam said.
“I’ll drive,” Joe said.
“Is your car big enough?” Adam asked.
Joe crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought just Brent, Nikki and I would go.”
“Aren’t you are just full of it?” Genevieve said angrily.
“Genevieve—”
“I do believe I’m your employer,” she said, trying to sound dignified, but she heard her own voice, and knew she just sounded snotty.
“I quit, then,” Joe told her.
“You can’t quit. You…you owe my mother.”
“Genevieve, you need to go home and get some sleep,” Nikki said gently. “In the morning—”
“In the morning Adam and I will be going with you on that trip or I will be doing whatever the hell I want back here in New York,” she said icily, then winced. Oh, God, she really did sound like a bitch.
“I think I’ll take her home now,” Joe said. “Adam, we won’t need a car service. I’d like to drive, so we’ll just rent something.” He inhaled deeply as he clenched his teeth. “Something big enough that the five of us can be comfortable.”
“Thank you,” Genevieve said primly, though she was tempted to cry. “And now I need to go home,” she said, standing and immediately starting to teeter as her head spun.
“I’ve got you,” Joe said, and put his arms around her to steady her.
The world was still spinning, but one thought occurred to her very clearly. Yes, you do have me. Too bad neither one of us can tell if you actually want me or not.
“Good night,” Joe said to the others. “See you at six o’clock at Gen’s, all right?”
“Fine. And I’ll arrange the rental,” Adam said. “Just one thing…”
“Yes?” Joe replied.
“I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but for now, Genevieve can’t be left alone. Not for a minute, do you understand?”
“I understand,” Joe said huskily.
No, he didn’t, Gen thought. Not yet, anyway. How on earth were they going to explain to him that the killer had dressed up as Poe to abduct Lori, even though she herself would have been his preferred victim, and that they knew this because Lori’s ghost had passed the message through Leslie and Matt, who were still hanging around at Hastings House? That was so not going to go over well.
As they walked toward Joe’s car, his arm still around her to keep her upright, he suddenly stopped and stared into the night.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he replied after a long moment.
“They’re out there, you know,” she said solemnly.
“Who?”
Ghosts, she thought, but decided not to say so.
“I heard footsteps. Real footsteps,” he said, when she didn’t answer his question.
She laughed softly. “That’s because there are real people in this city, lots of them.”
He looked down at her, and she could see him decide not to argue with her. It was scary, the way she was able to read his expressions, she thought, sure that if she hadn’t been with him, he would have investigated further.
The sounds from the pub were distant, and the street was quiet. He stood still for a minute longer, then urged her on to his car.
He was quiet as they drove, and she concentrated on not being sick. She felt his eyes touch her now and then, but they reached her building in silence. He signed in so he could get a visitor’s parking pass from Tim, who welcomed them both with a friendly smile.
As soon as Joe parked, she started to get out of the car on her own, certain she could accomplish the feat, but she fell back into the seat as she tried to stand, and the door swung back on her. By then Joe had rounded the car to help her, and he held the door open and helped her out, saying, “I’m not sure whether you’re going to be up to traveling tomorrow morning or not, Miss O’Brien.”
“I’m fine,” she protested. “I’m just a bit…tired. I assure you, I can handle my whiskey. It was Irish whiskey, after all, and I am Irish,” she said proudly.
“All right, Irish, let’s get inside.”
He grabbed his overnight bag from the trunk, then supported her into the building and up to her apartment, where she made a studied point of getting her door open. “Can I make you tea or something?” she asked politely. The words were clear, but she ruined the effect by staggering.
“No, thanks. Keep walking, straight to bed. Where are those hangover pills you gave me the other morning? Might help if you took a few now.”
She waved a hand in the direction of the bathroom. He led her to her bed, supporting her while pulling down the sheets, and left her sitting there on the edge of the mattress. A minute later he was back with the pills and a tumbler of water. As soon as she had taken the pills, he took off her shoes.
“I’m really all right,” she said, but she was shielding her eyes from the light that seemed to radiate like fire from the bedside lamp.
He turned it off, helped her lie down and pulled the covers over her.
“Is the room spinning even with the light off?” he asked.
“No.” She sighed. “Yes.”
“Let’s hope the pills kick in soon, then.”
For a moment she was both floating in her own wavering world and simultaneously aware that he had undressed and climbed in beside her. She inched closer to him. After a minute, she heard him sigh. And then his arm came around her, and he pulled her closer.
“What the hell made you do this?” he asked softly.
“Ghosts,” she said, before she could stop herself.
He tensed, and she thought he was going to pull away from her, but he didn’t.
“You shouldn’t have called Adam,” he said. “Ghosts…can’t help. All they can do is muddle your mind. Remnants of the past that tear at your soul.”
“Because you were in love with her,” she said.
“I could have been in love with her,” he replied. “But she loved Matt.”
“She’s with him now, you know.”
