‘I never asked you where you live,’ I said. I had the dining-room table all set up for him, with some sheets of paper for him to practice on and some nice cardstock to use for the final product. He stopped behind the chair and looked everything over.

  ‘I’m renting a studio apartment in a new building until I get back with my wife. She lives on Harper with my daughter.’

  ‘Harper?’ I said. My ears perked up when I heard that. ‘Where exactly?’

  ‘The area is called the Rosalie Villas?’ he said. ‘They’re all old houses built in the late 1800s. Ours – well, hers – is in the middle between 57th Street and 59th.’

  ‘Do you know the neighbors?’ I asked. He looked surprised at the question as I continued. ‘I’ve always heard that the people all know each other. They make arrangements for Halloween and such.’

  ‘My wife is the one into that. I never paid much attention.’ He seemed to think of something and his face brightened. ‘I know that the house next door still has fish-scale siding and the woman who lives there does yoga in the backyard. The one with a series of connected poses. Sun salutations,’ he added, seeming pleased that he’d come up with the correct name. He caught himself, realizing it sounded weird. ‘What I meant is, my office faced their backyard, and when I happened to look up from my work, I noticed that she was doing sun salutations in their yard.’

  ‘Was the house painted lavender?’ I asked, remembering that Maeve’s house was one of the few on the block that still had the Victorian-style siding.

  He had to think about it for a moment. ‘I thought of it as more a blue with some gray, but I suppose you could call it lavender.’

  ‘Did you know that woman died?’ I said.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ he said in a flatter tone than I’d expect for that type of news. I expected him to ask for details, but instead he suggested we get started because he had allotted only an hour for this and he had an appointment.

  I showed him samples and then demonstrated how to make hearts and flowers. He was a little put off about getting the ink on his fingers, but after making a few marks that pleased him, he got into it. He practiced making hearts and flowers using a pen to add definition. Then he found his inner artist and moved on to making caterpillars and bugs. I used the time to see if I could elicit any more information about Maeve that he might not realize he knew, but he shrugged off my comments.

  I knew mathematicians had a reputation for being in their own world of numbers, but Caleb’s lack of interest still struck me as odd.

  SIXTEEN

  Caleb forgot about his other appointment and stayed for a couple of hours. He moved on from playing around to making the actual cards, but even so went through a lot of cardstock before he’d made a couple of cards he was satisfied with. I had some content ready to put in them and he copied my words into them. He was going to drop one off right after he left. Relieved that it had turned out so well, I walked him to the door and followed him out onto the landing. As he reached the second-floor landing, he passed Ben. Caleb paid no attention to Ben, but Ben’s eyes were locked on Caleb. My client continued down the stairs and Ben looked up at me.

  ‘I have the information you requested. OK if I come up?’

  I was surprised to see Ben and for a second I didn’t know what he was talking about, but then it came back to me and I nodded.

  ‘Replaced me already?’ Ben said as I ushered him inside.

  ‘He’s a client,’ I said. ‘Love notes.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. He looks a little too buttoned down and zipped up to be someone who could write mush.’

  ‘It’s not mush,’ I protested. ‘He needs help expressing his feelings.’

  ‘As long as they’re not for you,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘I didn’t take you for the jealous type.’ I wanted to add that with the current circumstances he had lost that right anyway.

  He didn’t offer a hug or any form of affection, but kept his hands at his side, as if to remind himself that PDA were off limits for now.

  Thanks to Jankowski’s visit, I already knew what he was going to tell me. As I’d thought, Maeve was double dead. But I didn’t want to ruin Ben’s reveal. ‘You could have just called,’ I said.

  ‘Your Highness Mikey requested my presence for dinner, so I was coming here anyway.’ He glanced toward the living room. ‘Can I sit?’

  ‘Sure.’ I pointed the way, which of course he didn’t need.

  ‘I actually found out more than you’d asked. I figured you’d be in a hurry to know, so I thought I’d come up before dinner, but if you want to wait I’m sure my sister will want me to bring you some leftovers.’

  ‘Now, please,’ I said. His tease of more information had worked and I was impatient to know what else he’d found out.

  ‘I want you to know that I had to go through a lot to get all these details, including claiming that my sister knew the victim and I might have some information.’ His eyes flickered over my face, waiting for a response. I thanked him profusely, anxious for him to get on with it. He paused for a moment longer and I wondered if he was enjoying building up the suspense.

  ‘Well?’ I said finally.

  ‘As you thought, they believe the victim was dead before she fell. Do you want all the technical details or just what they think may have been the cause of death?’

  ‘Everything,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Her eyes were bloodshot and there was a high level of carbon dioxide in her lungs.’ He looked at me to see if I understood.

  ‘So, you’re saying she suffocated?’ I knew a bit about forensics from writing the Derek Streeter books. ‘What about the signs of a struggle?’

  He shook his head. ‘No signs she tried to fight anybody off. She might have been drugged before she was suffocated. They didn’t find any evidence at the scene, but took samples from her. The results of the tox screen won’t be back for at least four weeks, maybe longer.’

  My mind was clicking as he talked. ‘That means it was someone she knew,’ I said. ‘I wonder how they suffocated her. They probably thought it wouldn’t be detected and the fall would be considered the cause of death,’ I said, and Ben agreed.

  ‘Did they say where they think it happened?’

  ‘No. They are still investigating as far as I could tell.’

  His phone made a sound and he looked down. ‘I hate to break up this cheery topic of conversation,’ he said, ‘but Mikey awaits.’ He got up and went to the door. ‘I’m sure you’d be welcome to join us. I heard my sister made an apple pie.’

  My mouth was watering at the thought, but I shook my head. It was too awkward with things being the way they were. ‘No thanks, but I wouldn’t say no to some leftovers,’ I said. ‘Or it’s peanut butter sandwiches again.’

  He did a mock bow with a smile. ‘At your service.’

  ‘And don’t forget the apple pie,’ I said before I shut the door.

  I was left with plenty to think about. Someone had gone to an effort to take her out. It meant planning, premeditation, not something done in a moment of anger. She had seemed a pleasant person with a sunny disposition, from what I’d seen of her. Why would someone want to kill her? I remembered the strange comments in the notes, seeming to plan some kind of revenge. There were no names named, but I had to believe the ‘person’ that she referred to was Michael Angel.

  I was still thinking about Maeve and the notes when Ben came back with some delicious-smelling leftovers and a piece of pie. He didn’t even come in, just handed it all to me at the door, saying he had to get home. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone there waiting for him.

  SEVENTEEN

  My mind was heavy with thoughts the next morning as I drank my coffee. Ben had reconfirmed what I’d already figured out from meeting with Jankowski, but he’d added details about how Maeve had died. It made me feel short of breath to think of her being suffocated. If I’d had the slightest doubt that it was murder, I didn’t anymore. I was guessing that the police had put the case on hold until they got the results from the tox screen.

  How could I create the manuscript without knowing who killed Maeve and why? At the same time, I couldn’t wait around while the police figured it out. There was also the issue of me being implicated in her death. Jankowski had come up with a motive and I had been at the house in the vicinity of the time she died. I couldn’t believe that he really saw me as a suspect, but who knew? It seemed my only alternative was to find out everything on my own.

  All of the above left me stuck in neutral with no idea how to proceed on anything. I knew the best antidote was to leave it all behind or go for a walk to clear my head. I threw on a jacket and headed west on 57th, thinking I had no destination in mind, and yet I walked directly to the campus and the business school building.

  I suppose Tizzy’s office was in the back of my mind all along, though I still was surprised when I ended up there. She was doing something on her computer and looked up when I came in. I worried about bothering her at work, but she seemed happy to see me.

  ‘I hate to interrupt you, but there’s been a development with that client of mine and I need someone to talk things over with,’ I said. ‘I thought maybe we could get coffee.’

  ‘Of course. Is it about the artist’s wife? She’s the only client of yours I know about, so I suppose it has to be about her,’ Tizzy said. As she was talking, her boss Alex walked in. He nodded a greeting at me and then stopped next to her desk.

  ‘Are you talking about Maeve Winslow?’ he asked. I was a little taken aback by his question, meaning that he was admitting he’d been eavesdropping, and I nodded as an answer. ‘She was my daughter’s art teacher. The kids are having a hard time processing that she’s gone.’

  He looked at me with new interest. ‘She was a client of yours? I suppose what you want to talk about is what you were working on for her.’ Alex knew that I was a writer for hire and led the group that Tizzy was in. I didn’t want to say any more about what I’d found out – or that I was sort of a suspect – in front of him.

  Tizzy picked up on my hesitation and turned to her boss. ‘Veronica gets very involved with her clients. She’s still processing her loss. It helps when you have someone to talk to,’ she said. ‘It’s time for my coffee break anyway.’ She picked up her purse and jacket.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Alex said in a somber tone. ‘Of course, there is nothing like the comfort of a friend at a time like this.’

  As soon as we were outside, Tizzy turned to me. ‘I hope that was OK to say, but I had to give him something.’

  ‘What you said was perfect. It’s hard to keep up with how connected everyone around here is,’ I said.

  ‘The usual place OK?’ she said. I knew she meant the coffee stand in the food court we’d gone to before. There was the issue of people overhearing what I had to say.

  ‘It’s fine, but can we sit outside?’ I said, thinking the wind would keep my words away from any nearby ears. She agreed and this time she got the coffees and brought them out to me.

  I’d already found a bench, not concerned that the others around it were taken. There was a bite to the air, but the sun was shining, drawing people sit in the pleasant courtyard.

  ‘Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears,’ Tizzy said. A gust of wind blew a paper cup across the stone patio with a rattling sound.

  She’d splurged and gotten us cappuccinos, and I took a sip of foamy coffee drink. Though I had kept some of the information back before, I’d decided to tell all now. ‘To begin with, I have reason to believe it wasn’t an accident, and since I’m the one who found her, it makes me a suspect or person of interest, which is just a nicer way of saying the same thing. The detective has even come up with a motive that she fired me from the job of writing the memoirs.’

  ‘Where did he get that from?’ Tizzy asked.

  ‘I know Michael Angel tried to stop the project, and I think this is another attempt of his. He could think that if the police are investigating me, I won’t have time to finish the manuscript even though there’s a contract. I’d also like to find out who killed her, in case Detective Jankowski decides that his gut tells him it was me.’

  ‘And you want my help,’ Tizzy said with an expectant look. ‘Of course, I’d be glad to. I can be your wing person. We can shoot ideas back and forth. Theo will probably want to be involved. He really enjoyed the other night. You saw how he loves delving into things.’

  ‘I don’t know about Theo,’ I said. ‘I was hoping to keep it kind of quiet.’

  ‘He won’t tell anyone. I’m the blabbermouth in the family, but when I give my word to keep it quiet, I do.’ She played with the lid on her coffee cup. ‘You saw that I didn’t tell Alex about anything.’

  I had to admit she was right, and I knew from before that she could keep something to herself.

  I told her everything I knew about the detective’s visit and what Ben had told me. As soon as she heard his name, she sidetracked into wanting to know what was up with him.

  ‘I know that you want the group to think you’re just friends and that his delivery of food after our meetings is just an attempt to get extra help, but I know there’s more.’

  I could see her point. She had run into me a number of times when Ben and I had been out together in the neighborhood. ‘And I also know that something happened. He’s been all weird lately. The way he had so few pages and his bristly mood.’ She looked at me, waiting for an answer.

  So far, I hadn’t been honest with anyone about how far my relationship with Ben had gone. Both Ben and I wanted to keep Sara in the dark because it would put pressure on a future for us. That seemed like old news now. I hadn’t wanted the group to know because of exactly what happened. If Ben and I had a falling out, they might feel awkward and like they had to take sides. It was hard to define our relationship any way other than tentative. We’d been taking it very slowly, since we both were nervous about anything with too many expectations. Since Tizzy had obviously seen through my efforts to make it seem that Ben was just my student, I decided to tell her the truth.

  ‘His ex-wife showed up?’ she said, incredulous, after I’d explained. ‘No wonder he was out of sorts the other night.’

  ‘There’s more. You really have to keep this quiet. He hasn’t even told his sister.’ I stopped to take a breath, thinking the situation over again and shaking my head in exasperation. ‘She never signed the divorce papers.’

  ‘Wow,’ Tizzy said as her eyes opened wider. She forced herself to recover quickly. ‘The important question is what does he want.’ She offered me a sympathetic nod.

  ‘I don’t really know. He claims to want to end it with her, but I know there’s that part of anyone who has been dumped that wants another shot with the person who dumped them.’

  ‘And you?’ she asked.

  ‘It might make me seem less dull, but I’m not cut out to be the other woman.’

  She insisted that I wasn’t dull at all, and that I really led a very exciting life. I used my wits to make a living, had solved mysteries, and could handle Ed and all his salacious copy that he brought to the group. And then she agreed about my not wanting to be the woman on the side.

  ‘But the thing is, I like him,’ I said, feeling as if I sounded like a silly teenager.

  ‘And I’m sure he will pick you,’ she said in a reassuring tone. ‘Now what makes you think it was murder and what should we do?’

  Tizzy listened wide-eyed as I told her about Maeve already being dead when she fell down the staircase. I could have just given all the credit to Ben for the information, but I was proud of the way I’d figured it out, so I shared the head wound and lack of blood with her. She was duly impressed.

  ‘Double dead,’ she said with a nod. ‘I like that.’

  ‘I thought we might start with Michael Angel’s ex-wife. You remember Theo found that article, which described Michael’s ex throwing the champagne in Maeve’s face? It’s pretty clear she wasn’t a fan of Maeve’s, and for good reason. And another reason why I don’t want to be the other woman. What’s that quote – hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’ I thought about how Sara had described Ashleigh and wondered how far she would go to hang onto Ben.

  By the time we’d finished our coffee drinks, we’d come up with a plan.

  Saturday morning, Tizzy was waiting for me downstairs. She had dressed down for the occasion. No fluttery colorful kimono top, but a trench coat over what seemed to be black jeans and a black sweater.

  ‘We look like a couple of ninjas,’ I said, showing off my similar outfit, though I didn’t have a trench coat, but instead a long cardigan-sweater.

  I’d found out that Rina Wolinski worked at a downtown art supply store. I’d checked and made sure she was working that day. ‘Wolinski is Michael’s real last name,’ I explained as we rode downtown on the Metra train.

  ‘I can see why he goes by Michael Angel. It’s a lot more poetic and memorable,’ Tizzy said.

  We got off at the last stop and as we came up the stairs from the station were immediately in to the hyperactivity of downtown.

  We joined a throng of people walking down Randolph. When we got to State Street, a group of musicians were performing on the corner; it was impossible not to start walking to the beat of the drums. Farther down the block, a preacher with a portable sound system was offering to save everyone from the fires of hell if they acknowledged their sins and gave up a few things.

  Tizzy looked at the street ahead of us and brought up how much she missed all the department stores that used to be there. ‘It’s a bygone era,’ she said wistfully. Macy’s was the only one left. The plaque on the building still said Marshall Field’s, but the other signs all said Macy’s. Chicago people had a loyalty to their sports teams, their pizza and to their stores. There had actually been protestors when Macy’s insisted on changing the name.