we ordered. A veal chop with three hearty side dishes for Mike, grilled Dover sole and a salad for Mercer, and a linguine con vongole for me.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” I asked.
Mercer opened his notepad. “The squad had a few calls in after Naomi’s name was released this afternoon. She’d been taking a course at the Jewish Theological Seminary. I thought I’d take a run up and do some interviews.”
“I’d like to be with you.”
“You want to go to your office first?”
“I do.”
“Pick you up there. Figure late morning.”
We were nibbling on breadsticks and antipasti as Adolfo opened a bottle of wine for us.
“There ought to be more information after the story breaks wide,” Mike said. “The guys will still be canvassing the neighborhoods around the churches, talking to Naomi’s neighbors, finding out more about Daniel and whoever he socialized with at work.”
“The autopsy set?”
“In the morning. I’ll be there while you two go to the seminary.”
As always when the three of us segued from the intensity of investigative work to a casual meal together, the conversation would have confused anyone listening in. One of us would think of something that had to do with the murder—in this case, Mike describing the condition of Naomi’s head to Mercer—then would go on discussing Mike’s mother’s health or Mercer’s son’s allergies or the last time I’d been to my ballet class.
I had the sense to pass up espresso, counting on a good night’s sleep before the frenzy of the next day. I dipped my biscotti in Mike’s cup, yawning despite the early hour.
“C’mon, Alex,” Mercer said. “I’ll drop you at your door.”
Mike lived in a tiny studio apartment east of the restaurant. He called it “the coffin,” for its small size and light-starved interior. We left him nursing his coffee and sipping the dregs of the fine bottle of wine that Giuliano had sent over to us. He was more likely to work out the day’s demons at the bar than in his bed.
Mercer drove me the short distance to my building. My father’s trust fund afforded me the luxury of a beautiful co-op apartment twenty floors above the racket of the city streets, secured by two doormen on duty twenty-four hours a day. I was grateful for the comfort and peace of mind my home provided me, as well as its convenience to the office.
“Say hi to Vickee. We’re overdue for a dinner. And tell Logan that I’ll be taking him to the zoo on the first nice spring day.” I leaned over and kissed Mercer on his forehead.
“Will do. Rest up and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waited and watched through the glass windows that fronted the driveway, making sure that Vinny and Oscar greeted me, gave me my mail and dry cleaning, and held the elevator open for me.
I locked the door of my apartment, tossed my jacket onto a chair, went into the bedroom, and hit the playback button on my machine while I put away the day’s clothes. Most of my friends called and texted to my cell, but Luc enjoyed leaving intimate messages to be played alone when I came home after a grueling day. The six-hour time difference often meant that we couldn’t speak frequently while I was working, but it was comforting to me to hear his voice and know that he was sound asleep in Mougins, after a busy night in the restaurant, just as I would be settling in.
“Bonsoir, ma princesse.” His deep, calm voice and the elegant French accent were instantly soothing to me. I had left Luc a voice mail explaining that a new case had interrupted the day and I would be hard to reach. He understood the demands of my schedule now in a way he had not when we first met, and respected the fact that my work took me away from friends and family, inconveniently and unpredictably.
Although he made fun of my schoolgirl French, my comprehension had only improved in our time together, so the messages were all in his language. I hung up my suit while he told me about friends who had visited the restaurant that evening, and about his motorcycle trip to Cannes in the afternoon to buy some of my favorite things—perfumes, a scarf, and a few surprises—for his trip to New York on Saturday. I slipped off my underwear and threw it in the hamper, wrapping a bath towel around me while I listened to his promises to make me