had withdrawn again, silenced by her bewilderment. The most telling indication of her distress was that she hadn’t protested when Kit had volunteered to drop her first and then head to Baby’s apartment on her own. Under any other circumstances, Dara would be insisting on helping Kit lug the bags up to Baby’s.
“I’ll call you in a little while, okay?” Kit said when they pulled up in front of Dara’s building. She was trying to sound reassuring but she knew her voice was strained.
“Thanks, Kit,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “Oh, by the way, one client called when you were packing, someone I guess you’re in the process of signing. Sasha Glen.”
That was a surprise. After the abruptness of their meeting last week, she’d suspected she might never hear from Sasha again.
“Did she say why she was calling?”
“Just that she wanted to set up another meeting. I told her you’d be in touch.”
“Thanks for letting me know.
But better to leave that one alone. She needed to keep her distance from anything to do with Ithaka.
It took another fifteen minutes to reach Park and 89th Street and by then Kit was ready to jump out of her skin.
Baby hugged her as soon as she’d set all the bags down in the foyer. It felt good to be comforted and yet at the same time Kit couldn’t help but detect a stiffness in Baby’s arms. Maybe, she thought, it was simply Baby’s nerves betraying themselves, but Kit was still worried that it could actually signal the first inkling of impatience with the nightmare she’d been dragged into. Baby had a brilliant reputation, one she’d burnished over decades, and, despite her imperturbability—her ability to remain unbothered by lying vendors or lard-ass contractors or even a client in the throes of a massive hissy fit—she’d never allow that reputation to be besmirched. A break-in was one thing; a client dying violently at the office was in a category all to itself. There was a good chance this new development would bite them both in the ass, and Baby might not be up for that amount of trouble.
“I sensed you didn’t want to say much in front of Dara so tell me everything now,” Baby said. She led Kit into the living room, where they both collapsed onto the sofa.
Kit spilled out the story, including the remark she’d overheard from the medical investigator and the fact that Avery had been wearing her trench coat.
“I could have been looking at myself lying there,” Kit said, still so distraught at the memory. “And Dara noticed it, too.”
“Dear God. So you think someone actually meant to attack you?”
“Yes, maybe, and poor Avery ended up dead instead. I mean, it makes no sense that someone would come to the building intent to kill her.”
Baby’s face tightened even more in concern and she tapped her fingers a few times, as if she were urging her thoughts to form.
“Did you end up meeting with that man last night—Garrett Kelman?” she asked after a pause.
“Yes, at around nine, and what he told me plays into Avery’s death somehow, I’m sure.” She briefly described her conversation with Kelman—the claims he’d made about insider trading at his company and his supposed intention of going to the authorities later in the week.
“I just don’t know whether I can believe him,” Kit added. “At certain times he seems credible, and yet he’s given me no proof that anything he’s said about Ithaka or his role in the situation is true. But if he is being honest, it means that an Ithaka employee could have killed Avery or sent someone to do it.”
“How did he seem to you last night?”
“Weary. Shaken by the news that his pal Healy might have been on the wrong side. I just can’t evaluate whether it’s the real him or he’s putting on an Oscar-winning performance because he needs access to what I know.”
“But was he—rattled at all? Frantic?”
“Frantic?” Kit said, at first not understanding, and then she got it. Baby was wondering if Kelman was Avery’s killer.
“I know what you’re suggesting,” she added, “and I’ve considered it, too. But if he believed he’d just shoved me down a flight of stairs, why hang around in the restaurant for me?”
“To give himself an alibi? He might have assumed you’d told someone you were meeting with him. If the cops tracked him down, he’d be able to say he was waiting for you but you never showed.”