“She certainly seemed to be.”
“She hangs around, tries to be like me.” Melanie swatted a hand in the air as if swiping an offensive gnat. “She vanished a couple days ago. Probably off to Single White Female someone else.”
“Why do you let her hang around?”
Melanie didn’t look at him, but he could see tears in her eyes.
“Mrs. Templeton?”
She took a deep breath, and her voice cracked.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Templeton?” He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to her. She stared at it for a moment, as if unsure what it contained, then took it. She held it in her hands for a moment.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice husky. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“It’s all right.” Curiosity burned even down to his fingertips. “Mrs. Templeton, I need to ask. Have you perhaps been stalking Patrick O’Leary?”
She laughed suddenly, her entire face contorting, as she did not laugh kindly. “Are you insane, Deputy? Stalking Patrick?” Her eyes welled again with tears. “Is showing interest in a healthy, handsome man now called stalking?”
“Do you follow him on social media?”
She waved a hand nonchalantly. “Of course I do. He writes about places to be seen in Philly. And I know him personally, of course. But that isn’t a crime, liking someone’s posts.” She sniffed and stood. “I need a drink. Would you like anything?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He followed her toward the kitchen. “Do you know who would be stalking him?”
She removed a liter bottle of French white wine from the fridge and poured a full glass. “No. I didn’t know he was being stalked. It happens, though, to those who live out in the public eye.” She took a large drink from the glass, and John could see her shoulders lower slightly, but her interest in him had clearly waned.
“Actually, may I have a glass of water?” He smiled broadly at her. “With ice, if you have it.” He sat on one of the bar stools at the island, watching her movements. “This is a beautiful house.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She slid the frosty glass toward him. “My husband bought it as a wedding present for me. I would have rather had diamonds.”
“My fiancée loves houses like this.”
“Oh?” Like he had just told her how moss grows.
“What do you like, Mrs. Templeton?” John sipped the water carefully, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Her posture changed, her shoulders slid back, a grin played along her lips. He needed to keep the desperation out of his voice. He had tried calling Kim Smith several times, but the numbers she had given him were all clearly fakes. He had also tried going to her house yesterday, but it was silent as a grave, the windows dark. No warrant, no entry. Melanie Templeton was his only link left.
All that time chasing down noise complaints that turned out to be unruly raccoons, and now this. Something real. A real case, a real challenge.
“I like lots of things, Deputy.” She simpered and sipped from her wine glass. “Lazy days by the pool, a cold glass of Chardonnay, a handsome man by my side…” She scrunched one eye, appraising him. “You’re not too bad yourself, by the way. Let me guess, a good Catholic Philly boy like you…I’ll bet you went to Villanova.”
“Navy for me. And you?” He bet Bryn Mawr.
“Bryn Mawr.” She sipped again at the wine, not breaking eye contact with him. “I wanted to go to Wellesley, but my parents didn’t want me to leave the state.”
“Family, right?” He paused. “Is that where you met Kim, at Bryn Mawr?”
She rolled her eyes, but this time in a playful manner. “God, no. Kim at Bryn Mawr? Please, she would have been eaten alive.” She ran her fingernails through her hair, combing it into gentle waves. “You know, I don’t know if she ever mentioned where she went to college.”
She probably did not pay attention. It was the Melanie show or bust. “I know they never would have let me anywhere near Bryn Mawr. So how did you meet Kim?” Keep it light, innocuous.
“I think it was at a wine bar, you know that new one that opened in Wayne? I was there one night, waiting for my husband, who was late as usual, and she sat next to me. One thing led to another. We had a couple of drinks.” Melanie shrugged. “Suddenly, she was everywhere. At the coffee shop, at Zumba, at yoga. I guess I got used to having her around.”
“Doesn’t she work?”
Melanie sighed. “Who knows? She said something at one point. I think she mentioned working in an office. She must have money, though. We’d go shopping, and she would buy whateverI advised.” She tossed her hair, pride shining through her. “I have a good eye for fashion.”
He felt like he was right at the cusp, like he was back on the submarine, and it was time for an emergency blow.
