She pulled me in close for a quick hug. I inhaled, taking comfort in the familiar smell of coffee and cinnamon that seemed to follow her everywhere, even when she wasn’t at her shop. “No need to apologize,” she said. “I just hope you’re okay. We can do this anytime this week—I bought a pass for the whole week anyway. Just take care of what you have to now, and we’ll both enjoy the show together another day, okay? Call me later. Promise?”
I promised, and after one more hug we parted with plans to try again tomorrow. Next, I rushed to the break room, where I found a female police officer sitting by the door. As soon as I arrived, the officer made a call. Presumably to Sean to let him know I was back. I peeked inside and saw Lynn sitting alone.
“Lila! I’m so glad to see you,” Lynn said as soon as I entered the room. “A police officer came to my booth and told me to come here and that he’d be back to question me.”
My heart went out to her. She blinked a few times as if trying to wake herself from a bad dream. “That was probably my fiancé, Sean Griffiths. He’s a detective.”
“A detective?” Her fingers flew to her hair, where they worried at the mousy brown strands that curled around her face. “Did I do something wrong?”
I took the chair next to her. Sean had asked me not to say anything to her about the murder until he was present, so I chose my words carefully. “Lynn, where were you earlier? I was looking for you, but you weren’t at your booth.”
She raised her brows and tapped her fingers on the book on the table next to her. “I’m sorry. I just took a little break to get a book. There wasn’t much going on at my table, so I thought I’d do a little reading.”
I glanced down at the title. It was Dr. Meyers’s book, Strong Women, Strong Marriages. “Did you get it signed?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I didn’t get a chance to go by her booth. I thought perhaps she’d sign it later for me.”
“Lila?” Sean approached with a stern look.
I sat back and swallowed hard before attempting an explanation. “Lynn and I were just discussing a book. That’s all.”
He took the chair across from us, loosening his tie and running a finger between his neck and collar before addressing Lynn. “I’m sure Lila has told you that she’s my fiancée,” he started.
Lynn nodded. “And that you’re a detective. Have I done something wrong?”
Sean glanced my way briefly. I scooted in a little closer to Lynn and placed my hand on her arm. “Do you know Chuck Richards?” Sean asked.
Her chin dipped slightly. “Yes. He’s my ex-husband. Why? Has he . . . ?” Her eyes darted between Sean and me. “What’s going on?”
“Has he what, Ms. Werner?” Sean wanted to know.
She shrugged, pulling her arms in close and wiping her palms on her sweater. “I don’t know. Is he in some sort of trouble?”
“Has he been in trouble before?” Sean pressed.
Another shrug. “No. Not really.”
“Can you give me an idea of your schedule since arriving at the Arts Center this afternoon?”
“My schedule?” She looked at me for clarification, but I didn’t dare speak out. Instead, I smiled encouragingly. Then another thought occurred to me. This was my client. Maybe what I should be doing instead of smiling encouragingly was advising her to get an attorney. What if she said something that could be misconstrued or held against her at a later time? And here Sean was asking all these questions without even telling her that her ex-husband had been murdered. What was he doing? I had thought he was going to tell her. That was why I wanted to be here, in case she needed comfort. Not as some sort of accomplice in the old good cop/bad cop routine. My eyes slid toward Sean, who steadily held my gaze. Either he just now sensed my conflict or he had anticipated it all along. Were those intense blue eyes of his daring me to step in and stand up for my client? Was this some sort of test of loyalty to him?
I took a deep breath and reached across the table toward Lynn. “Lynn, I think you—”
“Don’t say a word, Lynn!” Bentley’s voice interrupted. She blew right past the female officer sitting at the door and crossed the room with a perturbed look. I shrank back into my chair.
Across the table, I heard Sean curse under his breath. “This is official business, Ms. Duke, and you’re interfering—”
“Has Detective Griffiths told you what these questions are about?” She ignored Sean and spoke directly to Lynn.
“No. I don’t understand what’s going on,” Lynn said, looking to me again for some sort of answer.
“Ms. Duke!” Sean was on his feet now, motioning toward the female officer for assistance.
Bentley held up her hand. “I’m advising my client to remain silent.”
“Remain silent? Client?” Sean chuckled. “You’re a literary agent, not an attorney. And this is official police business.”