‘This is not about accusations,’ I reminded her, gently. ‘This is about whether someone could hurt you. Ring is very smooth. He comes across as credible. I expect he resents that you’re FBI, HRT and he’s not.’
‘I think he’s already demonstrated that.’ Her voice was hard.
‘I just hope the jerk doesn’t keep asking you out.’
‘Oh, he already is. At least half a dozen times.’ She sat down. ‘He’s even asked Janet out, if you can believe that.’ She laughed. ‘Talk about not getting it.’
‘The problem is I think he does get it,’ I said, ominously. ‘It’s like he’s building a case against you, gathering evidence.’
‘Well, gather away.’ She abruptly ended our discussion. ‘So tell me what else went on today.’
I told her what I had learned at the labs, and we talked about fibers embedded in bone and Koss’s analysis of them as we carried steaks and wine inside. We sat at the kitchen table with a candle lit, digesting information few people would serve with food.
‘A cheap motel curtain could have a backing like that,’ Lucy said.
‘That or something like a drop cloth, because of the paint-like substance,’ I replied. ‘The spinach is wonderful. Where did you get it?’
‘Ukrops. I’d give anything to have a store like that in my neighborhood. So this person wrapped the victim in a drop cloth and then dismembered her through it?’ she asked as she cut her meat.
‘That’s certainly the way it’s looking.’
‘What does Wesley say?’ She met my eyes.
‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet.’ This wasn’t quite true. I had not even called.
For a moment, Lucy was silent. She got up and brought a bottle of Evian to the table. ‘So how long do you plan to run from him?’
I pretended not to hear her, in hopes she would not start in.
‘You know that’s what you’re doing. You’re scared.’
‘This is not something we should discuss,’ I said. ‘Especially when we’re having such a pleasant evening.’
She reached for her wine.
‘It’s very good, by the way,’ I said. ‘I like pinot noir because it’s light. Not heavy like a merlot. I’m not in the mood for anything heavy right now. So you made a good choice.’
She stabbed another bite of steak, getting my point.
‘Tell me how things are going with Janet,’ I went on. ‘Mostly doing white-collar crime in D.C.? Or is she getting to spend more time at ERF these days?’
Lucy stared out the window at the moon as she slowly swirled wine in her glass. ‘I should get started on your computer.’
While I cleaned up, she disappeared into my office. I did not disturb her for a very long time, if for no other reason than I knew she was put out with me. She wanted complete openness, and I had never been good at that, not with anyone. I felt bad, as if I had let down everyone I loved. For a while, I sat at the kitchen desk, talking to Marino on the phone, and I called to catch up with my mother. I put on a pot of decaffeinated coffee and carried two mugs down the hall.
Lucy was busy at my keyboard, glasses on, a slight frown furrowing her young, smooth brow as she concentrated. I set her coffee down and looked over her head at what she was typing. It made no sense to me. It never did.
‘How’s it going?’ I asked.
I could see my face reflected in the monitor as she struck the enter key again, executing another UNIX command.
‘Good and not good,’ she replied with an impatient sigh. ‘The problem with applications like AOL is you can’t track files unless you get into the original programming language. That’s where I am now. And it’s like following bread crumbs through a universe with more layers than an onion.’
I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. ‘Lucy,’ I said, ‘how did someone send these photographs to me? Can you tell me, step by step?’
She stopped what she was doing, slipping off her glasses and setting them on the desk. She rubbed her face in her hands and massaged her temples as if she had a headache.