“No, but I’m wondering if you should consult with a lawyer. I doubt you could end up in any legal difficulty, but it might be smart to have a pro helping you navigate things with both Ithaka and the police. It’s getting very complicated.”
This time Kit groaned. “I’ll be honest, the thought crossed my mind in Miami. There’s nothing like sitting in a police precinct to summon the “L” word to your mind. But there was no hint from the police that they suspected me of being in cahoots with the fake Matt Healy. And I just don’t want to throw the money away. Even a few hours of consultation would be a huge chunk of change.”
“Well you wouldn’t be throwing it away if it worked in your favor.”
She nodded, weighing Baby’s words.
“Let me mull it over. I certainly don’t think I need one for the meeting at Ithaka. But if things get ratcheted up, I’ll definitely consider it.”
“Wear your black suit today,” Baby suggested. “There’s something about it that just says, ‘I refuse to be intimidated.’”
Smiling, she promised she would. Though she couldn’t imagine Wainwright being the least bit cowed by a cropped gabardine blazer and pencil skirt.
An hour and a half later, as the elevator whisked her to the thirtieth floor of the midtown building, she could feel her dread ballooning. It’ll be over soon, she reassured herself.
The receptionist tapped Kit’s name into an iPad, nodded, and then led her down a long, hushed hallway. From what Kit could see, there were no glass offices up here, no trading floor either. It all seemed very corporate.
Finally the receptionist came to a stop and swung open a mahogany door on the right. Inside was an empty executive conference room. One wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that faced a stunning canyon of midtown Manhattan office buildings. Kit wondered about all the deals that had been cut in the room, as well as the scheming and conniving that had transpired there. Her father had been undone in business and she couldn’t look at a room like this without being reminded of that.
“Please have a seat,” the receptionist said, gesturing toward a rectangular table big enough to accommodate ten. “Mr. Wainwright will be with you shortly.”
The woman started toward the door and then looked back.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked.
Kit politely declined. A glass of water would be nice but she refused to be beholden to Ithaka for even that.
A minute later, Wainwright entered with Ungaro in tow. Ungaro was dressed in business casual again, but the silver fox was in an expensive suit, as if the day entailed important meetings out of the office. He took a seat directly across from her, and Ungaro settled into one to his right. There was no mistaking the message. Wainwright would be in charge of the questioning today and Ungaro would be playing sidekick.
“We don’t want to take up much of your time, Ms. Finn,” Wainwright said, holding onto her gaze with his penny-shaped eyes. “We’d simply like to hear about your trip to Florida.”
Kit took a breath.
“There’s really not much to tell,” she said. “The Miami-Dade police called me to say they were holding the body of a hit-and-run victim who had no ID on him but was carrying my business card in his pocket. I told them I thought it might be the man I’d met in Islamorada. When I explained he’d had red hair and blue eyes, they said that matched the victim. I mean, Matt Healy’s hair was really strawberry blond but someone could consider it red. It never crossed my mind that Healy was the actual victim.”
“And you offered to fly down and identify the body?” Wainwright said. “That was very generous of you.”
There was an edge to his tone, challenging.
“No, that’s not how it happened. As I mentioned to you on the phone, I had business back in Florida, and when I told the main detective that, she asked if I would come to the morgue and confirm that the victim was this—this stranger I’d met. It seemed like the right thing to do so I agreed.”
“Can you tell us anything more about mystery man?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t think of anything that I haven’t shared with you already.”
“This is a delicate question but we have to ask,” Ungaro interjected. He’d been taking notes since she started speaking but stopped at this point, his pen poised. “Was this man ever in