worth it. At least, I hope it is.”
I laughed politely, admiring her resolve to help people out. Most of us just complain about politics – Claire was actually doing something about it. “Speaking of networking,” I said, “I heard Adam liked to go to a lot of these charity events. Did you ever run into him there?”
She nodded. “Quite often. He and that beautiful girlfriend of his went to these things a fair bit.”
“Cynthia Pruttley,” I prompted, and she nodded.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Any idea why Adam went to all these parties? As far as I know, he wasn’t earning all that much money, and it’s not like he’s got family money.”
Cynthia twisted her lips and shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help you there. Maybe he was helping out with the charities and didn’t have to pay for those tickets and things?”
“No, I don’t think so.” If he’d been volunteering at a charity, his mother would’ve added it to the list of reasons why he was a saint. Still, it might be worth calling her and checking up.
I went through the rest of my questions, and got the typical responses in return. Once again, I learnt that Adam didn’t seem to have any enemies, he did seem quite friendly, and he hadn’t seemed any different in the weeks before he’d been killed. No, she had no idea what he’d been doing in the office so late at night, and she didn’t know anything about “red roses.”
Finally, I asked her how her trip to DC had been.
“Good,” she said. “I met with a couple of people and I think we’ve really progressed on some matters.”
“When did you get there?”
“Flew out late last Sunday night, and then I flew back this Saturday. Mike’s still in Nebraska. We went to the airport together last week, but caught flights in opposite directions.”
I smiled. “What about Mike? What’s he like?”
“Just the best husband in the world,” Claire said. “We’ve been hoping for kids, but it doesn’t seem like that’ll happen. The two of us are really happy together and I’m just so glad I married him.”
“Is his job as crazy as yours?”
“It’s nuts in a different way. I think that’s why we got together in the first place – we both want to help people, and Mike’s way of doing that is to help people who are ill.”
I nodded, unable to think of anything else to ask, and glanced at Ian, who’d been pretty quiet and well-behaved during the interview.
“Well, I guess that’s it,” I said, fishing out a card from my bag and placing it on Claire’s shiny white coffee table, on top of the big book about historic Las Vegas. “Call me if you think of anything.”
“Of course,” she said, with a friendly smile.
I always have this conversation when I’m leaving. People always say they’ll call, but they never do. I couldn’t depend on Claire to tell me anything new – I could only hope that my conversation with Cynthia Pruttley would reveal something. Anything.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nanna was fast asleep when I got back to my condo, and I decided that a nap wasn’t such a bad idea. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow, and before I knew it, my cell phone alarm was going off, and there were five voicemail messages waiting for me.
The first was from my mother, asking me why I wasn’t picking up, and what was Nanna up to? The second was from my friend Emily, asking me if we were still on for cocktails this afternoon. The next three were all from Natasha, with info about Adam’s friends. His three closest friends were Charlie Stiggins, a cop; Barry Wardle, a marketing exec at a construction company; and Johann Tappley, who’d got married and moved away to Canada a few months back.
I wrote down their names and numbers, and after a brief chat with my mother about how Nanna was doing, I called Charlie Stiggins.
“I suppose I could talk to you,” he said, his tone implying that he’d much rather not. “But I’m sure the LVMPD’s already done a thorough
I laughed politely, admiring her resolve to help people out. Most of us just complain about politics – Claire was actually doing something about it. “Speaking of networking,” I said, “I heard Adam liked to go to a lot of these charity events. Did you ever run into him there?”
She nodded. “Quite often. He and that beautiful girlfriend of his went to these things a fair bit.”
“Cynthia Pruttley,” I prompted, and she nodded.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Any idea why Adam went to all these parties? As far as I know, he wasn’t earning all that much money, and it’s not like he’s got family money.”
Cynthia twisted her lips and shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help you there. Maybe he was helping out with the charities and didn’t have to pay for those tickets and things?”
“No, I don’t think so.” If he’d been volunteering at a charity, his mother would’ve added it to the list of reasons why he was a saint. Still, it might be worth calling her and checking up.
I went through the rest of my questions, and got the typical responses in return. Once again, I learnt that Adam didn’t seem to have any enemies, he did seem quite friendly, and he hadn’t seemed any different in the weeks before he’d been killed. No, she had no idea what he’d been doing in the office so late at night, and she didn’t know anything about “red roses.”
Finally, I asked her how her trip to DC had been.
“Good,” she said. “I met with a couple of people and I think we’ve really progressed on some matters.”
“When did you get there?”
“Flew out late last Sunday night, and then I flew back this Saturday. Mike’s still in Nebraska. We went to the airport together last week, but caught flights in opposite directions.”
I smiled. “What about Mike? What’s he like?”
“Just the best husband in the world,” Claire said. “We’ve been hoping for kids, but it doesn’t seem like that’ll happen. The two of us are really happy together and I’m just so glad I married him.”
“Is his job as crazy as yours?”
“It’s nuts in a different way. I think that’s why we got together in the first place – we both want to help people, and Mike’s way of doing that is to help people who are ill.”
I nodded, unable to think of anything else to ask, and glanced at Ian, who’d been pretty quiet and well-behaved during the interview.
“Well, I guess that’s it,” I said, fishing out a card from my bag and placing it on Claire’s shiny white coffee table, on top of the big book about historic Las Vegas. “Call me if you think of anything.”
“Of course,” she said, with a friendly smile.
I always have this conversation when I’m leaving. People always say they’ll call, but they never do. I couldn’t depend on Claire to tell me anything new – I could only hope that my conversation with Cynthia Pruttley would reveal something. Anything.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nanna was fast asleep when I got back to my condo, and I decided that a nap wasn’t such a bad idea. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow, and before I knew it, my cell phone alarm was going off, and there were five voicemail messages waiting for me.
The first was from my mother, asking me why I wasn’t picking up, and what was Nanna up to? The second was from my friend Emily, asking me if we were still on for cocktails this afternoon. The next three were all from Natasha, with info about Adam’s friends. His three closest friends were Charlie Stiggins, a cop; Barry Wardle, a marketing exec at a construction company; and Johann Tappley, who’d got married and moved away to Canada a few months back.
I wrote down their names and numbers, and after a brief chat with my mother about how Nanna was doing, I called Charlie Stiggins.
“I suppose I could talk to you,” he said, his tone implying that he’d much rather not. “But I’m sure the LVMPD’s already done a thorough
Similar Books
