later in the day, she raced through emails. With a twinge of disappointment, she noted that there was no message from Dr. Holt.
Her phone rang and she checked the screen before answering, making sure it wasn’t the security chief again. No. But the second she said her name into the phone, her brain spit out a piece of information. The prefix was the same as Ungaro’s.
“This is Mitch Wainwright,” the caller said, his voice deep and imposing. “Have you got a few minutes?”
It was a question that came out more like a command and Kit’s body tensed in frustration. Ungaro had sicced the big boss on her, and she’d stupidly picked up the phone.
“Yes, but literally just a few minutes. I’m very sorry about Mr. Healy, by the way.”
“It’s a tragic loss for the firm, and for his family, of course. Are you aware that Mr. Ungaro has made several attempts to reach you? We’d like you to come in again for another conversation.”
He had to be kidding. Don’t let him bully you, she warned herself.
“I can’t imagine how I can be of assistance,” Kit said. “The police are the best people for you to communicate with at this point.”
“We’ve been in touch with them, needless to say. But we’d like to talk to you, too. There are details that only you can provide.”
It felt as if he was standing in the room with her, backing her into the corner with the sheer force of his presence.
“I don’t really know what you’re referring to. All I did was identify the body.”
“It’s interesting that you happened to be in the area again.”
“Interesting?” she said. That was the last word she would have used to describe her trip to the morgue. “I had business in Florida and I simply agreed to help the detective in charge while I was there.”
“How were you aware they needed your help?”
She hated how he was pressing her.
“Mr. Wainwright, this is a police matter now, and they’re the ones you should be discussing this with. It’s not appropriate for me to be in the mix of things anymore.”
“But you are in the mix. You seem to be smack in the middle for some reason.”
She was speechless. What was this guy implying? That she might be connected to Healy’s death?
“Look, Ms. Finn,” Wainwright interjected into the silence. “We got off on the wrong foot with this call. The firm simply wants as many answers as possible. We’re at a disadvantage being a thousand miles away from where one of our people was killed. But we need to be certain this case ends up solved.”
There was no legal reason she had to fill in the blanks for him. But maybe, she decided, it would be better to cooperate. She could relay to him and Ungaro the bare basics about her trip to the medical examiner’s office and then she wouldn’t have to talk to them again. Besides, it might assuage some of her guilt. She was still plagued by the worry that her appearance at Healy’s apartment might have set in motion the events that led to his death.
“All right,” she said. “I could come by later today, at about five. But from that point on you’ll need to speak to the police about this matter.”
“Five works for me,” he said. “And, by the way, please come to the thirtieth floor instead of the twenty-ninth this time. We’ll have a bit more privacy there.”
Did he have a private office up there, she wondered, away from the high-stakes hurly-burly? Whatever, she’d just have to get in and out. And assisting Ithaka might prove to be a benefit to her in the long run. The firm would surely put pressure on the authorities to move quickly. If X were arrested, she wouldn’t have to fret about him any longer.
A few minutes later, Baby returned from a job site.
“Something’s up,” she said as she sat down at her desk. “I see a worry dent in your forehead.”
“It’s thanks to my endless date from hell,” Kit said. “Every day there’s a crazy new development.” She shared the details of the recent phone call from Wainwright.
“Well, that’s nervy,” Baby said.
“I can’t totally blame them for wanting information, but after this afternoon, I’m done.”
Baby pursed her lips, a thought clearly brewing.
“What?” Kit asked.
“Dan used to say that when you’re facing a battle, you don’t go in with a wooden stick. You go in with a gun.”
Kit snorted. “Wait, you’re not suggesting I pack a firearm