The Secrets You Keep

She pushes the strap of her briefcase farther onto her shoulder, relocates the shopping bag to that arm, and uses the other arm to guide me the short distance along Broadway. Though there’s outdoor seating at the café, she suggests we venture inside toward the rear, where it’ll be quieter. Just sitting down makes a difference.

Sandra flags the waitress and orders us each a cup of tea and an ice water for me. As my brain begins to defog, I notice she’s dressed today as chicly as she was the first time I saw her—a navy pencil skirt and a white lace blouse with a piping of navy around the collar. Her rescue of me has surely interrupted her workday.

“There, that’s better,” I tell her after I take a few sips of the ice water. The swaying sensation has subsided.

“Did something happen to you? Is that why you went to the police?”

“No, no.” I lift the glass of water and hold it against my cheek, relishing the cold on my skin. “I mean not to me personally. But . . . well, do you remember me saying I was using a caterer for the dinner party last week? The chef, the woman who runs the company, was murdered.”

“My goodness, Eve Blazer, of course.” Sandra’s deep brown eyes cloud with worry. “I saw it on the news, and the whole thing has me scared out of my mind. I didn’t realize that’s who you’d hired.”

“Yes,” I say, keeping my voice low. “And you know how I told you some cash was missing that night? I went to her office to follow up on it and discovered the body.”

“That’s dreadful. And the police, they’re just getting around to interviewing you about it now?”

“No, they talked to me at the scene, but they had follow-up questions. I had to dredge it all up again.”

“That couldn’t have been a picnic.”

I smile grimly. “It was like one of those moments at airport security when the TSA agent asks you to step aside and you start wondering if you’ve inadvertently packed a Glock handgun in your roller bag.”

“Oh boy, I can relate to that. The one and only time I was stopped for speeding, I was overwhelmed with this ridiculous fear that the cop was about to open my trunk and find twenty bags of heroine piled inside.”

We laugh together, and I take a small amount of comfort in the fact that I’m not the only person whose free-floating anxiety balloons around law enforcement.

Our teas arrive in white ceramic pots.

“Here, why don’t I do this,” Sandra suggests, and fills my cup first. Her nails are beautifully manicured with the palest pink polish and French tips, reminding me that it’s been ages since I’ve bothered with mine. I take a long, slow sip of tea and feel the blood start to flow back to my face. “But you survived? You got through it okay?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

She eyes me quizzically, perhaps trying to read between the lines. I don’t want to send a signal that there’s a problem. “I mean, it was fine. It’s just tough to revisit it all again.”

“Poor girl,” Sandra says. Startled, I think she means me and then realize she’s talking about Eve Blazer. “It seems trouble followed her around.”

“What kind of trouble?” Goose bumps shoot up along my arms.

“I’ve just heard rumors over time. A former colleague of mine booked her for a party once and then swore she’d never do it again. She was pretty upset.”

“What was the issue?”

She cocks her head, thinking, and then slowly shakes it.

“From what I recall it wasn’t about the food or the service. Something weird happened, but at the time she didn’t say what it was.”

Money or valuables missing from the premises? I wonder. Eve had stated adamantly that she’d never had an issue with her staff, but that could have been a lie. I’ve let my eyes fall to the table, and when I glance back up, Sandra is studying me.

“Do you want me to try to find out?” she asks.

I do, but I don’t want to say so. Plus, I suddenly feel desperate to be home.

“That’s not necessary,” I say. “I was just curious, in light of everything that’s happened.”

“I don’t blame you. This must be upsetting for both of you.”

“Both of us?

“You and your husband. I assume he met her at your house, too.”

“Yes, it was especially troubling for him because they’ve worked together in the past.” I regret my words the second they’re out of my mouth. The goal for Guy and me has been to distance ourselves from Eve, and I’m doing the exact opposite.

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful comfort to each other.”

“I like to think so, yes.” I need to drop the subject pronto. I spot the waitress and raise my hand for the bill. “I should let you get back to whatever you were doing, Sandra.”

“This is my treat, though. Please.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you rescuing me.”

She snaps up the bill as the waitress sets it down and laughs again in that conspiratorial way she has.

“Well, you rescued me, too. I’m supposed to be assembling swag bags for a client event and I was dying for an excuse to put it off. Everyone wants swag bags these days. Free food and booze are no longer enough.”

“Is that what you were shopping for today?” I ask, nodding toward the bag on the chair beside her.

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