The Attic on Queen Street (Tradd Street #7)

“If you’re thinking this is the perfect opportunity to get Veronica alone, then yes.”

We found Veronica applying lipstick at the sink, our eyes meeting in the mirror. Smiling, she turned around. “This is a nice surprise,” she said, putting her lipstick in her clutch and snapping it shut.

“It is,” I agreed. “We were just finishing our meal and Michael came over to say hello. He wants to set up an appointment with me to discuss speeding up the selling process. I promise to come up with a few roadblocks I can mention at the meeting, but I want you to come up with a few issues, too. I think we’ve found a couple more clues to move us forward on the investigation into Adrienne’s death, but we need more time.”

Veronica’s eyes widened with interest. “What have you found out?”

“It was actually Thomas,” Jayne said, comfortable with her words now, although her cheeks pinkened when she said Thomas’s name. “He found a new fingerprint on the inside of the lid of the Discman, so that’s hopeful. He also thinks he spotted her in a photo with the sailing team, but she wasn’t on the team list printed beneath the photo.”

Veronica was silent for a moment. “I’d almost forgotten. Adrienne wasn’t on the team. But she had a lot of good friends who were—it was coed, so both boys and girls. She loved to sail and would drag Mom and Dad and me to every regatta to watch, but she wasn’t a sailor. Our family never had that kind of money. Instead she sort of became the unofficial team manager.”

A toilet flushed and a woman came out of one of the stalls. We waited for her to wash her hands and leave before we continued.

“You need to let Thomas know,” I said. “He couldn’t find any interviews with any of the sailing team members in Adrienne’s file. There could be new information there.”

Veronica nodded, her face brightening with hope. “I’ll call him tomorrow. I can’t talk with him tonight. . . .”

Jayne held up her hand. “We know. That’s fine.”

“Thank you.” Veronica tucked her clutch under her arm, preparing to leave.

“One more thing,” I said. “When we were at Adrienne’s dorm, you said something to me that I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

She closed her eyes for a quick breath, then met my gaze directly. “I said I didn’t want to let her down again.”

I nodded. “What did you mean?”

After a brief pause, she said, “In the days leading up to her death, she called me several times, asking me to meet her because she had something important to tell me.”

“And you didn’t go because you had a work deadline,” Jayne offered softly.

At Veronica’s startled look, I said, “Thomas told us. He interviewed Adrienne’s roommate, Lynda.”

Veronica nodded. “She said she had something important to tell me, but that it needed to be face-to-face.”

“And you have no idea what that was about?” I asked.

Veronica shook her head. “None whatsoever. She was always a little prone to drama, so I didn’t think it was as urgent as she made it out to be.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jayne said calmly, putting her arm around Veronica. “You had no idea. The only fault is with the person who killed her. Not hers, and not yours. We’re here to make sure we find the person responsible and make sure whoever it is faces justice.”

I looked at my sister with a new appreciation. I was good with the spreadsheets and the logical progression of a puzzle, but Jayne’s first instincts were all about the personal repercussions. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the emotional aspects of losing a loved one; it was just that I hadn’t been raised with open emotions or the ability to express them. I’d simply had to take a crash course in the last few years since Jack, Nola, and my parents had joined my life. I was still suffering from the whiplash of being shoved from my isolated life to navigating the current one of family and other people’s emotional wants and needs.

I cleared my throat. “I want to go back to your attic and ask Adrienne questions. When is a good day when you know Michael won’t be there?”

“I’ll let you know. Maybe we can do it after our meeting? Michael will be eager to return to the office. He hates being pulled away in the middle of his workday.”

“Sounds good—just call me.”

Jayne hugged Veronica. “You go on and enjoy your dinner, all right? And happy anniversary.”

Veronica smiled and said her good-byes. I was about to suggest to Jayne that we might as well use the facilities while we were there when the lock was unlatched on one of the stalls, and the door opened.

“Melanie—what a nice surprise!” Suzy Dorf said pertly as she approached the sink and began washing her hands the way a surgeon would, scrubbing between her fingers and around the tops. It fit her personality, which suited her journalist profession: thorough, detailed, and intrusive. I found it as impressive as I found it annoying. Especially when her tunnel vision was trained on me.

“Suzy, how nice to see you.” I grabbed Jayne’s elbow. “Would love to stay and chat, but we were both leaving . . .”

Suzy faced me as she dried her hands. “Did you not get my texts? I’ve sent about a dozen in the last week.”

“Did you? I’ve been so busy, it’s possible I might have missed—”

“You owe me an interview, remember? You promised—before all that business with the Gallen Hall cemetery. That’s old news now, so instead I’m asking for an exclusive regarding the new treasure hunt that’s buzzing around the Internet right now.”

“An exclusive . . . ?”

“Interview. The one we’re going to schedule right now while we both have our phones so that there’re no missed texts.”

“I don’t . . .” I stopped. Recalled the moment I stood in the back garden and felt Louisa’s presence. Felt her subtle reminder of the priority of family. Remembered Jack going off to think on his own and my conviction that Jack and I worked great together. Even if that meant that we sometimes had to work separately, because we had always shared the same end goal.

I met Suzy’s gaze. “Okay.”