That’s an even bigger surprise. “You talk to Mel?”
“She helped my parents on some charity projects long before she worked for the Larssons, so I’ve known her awhile. I called Drew late this afternoon to follow up with him, and she answered. After she told me he was out for the rest of the afternoon, she brought up that she’d overheard him berate you. She’s a gossip, but I think she was also upset by how he treated you and wanted to vent.”
We’re standing only inches apart, and I can feel the warmth emanating from his body. Last night all I wanted was for him to step over the imaginary trip wire, but now that we’re in such close proximity, I couldn’t feel more awkward.
“Why don’t we sit in the kitchen,” I suggest, moving in that direction. “And then I’ll fill you in. Do you want something to drink?”
“You don’t have a cold beer by any chance, do you?” he asks, trailing behind me.
“No, sorry. Just white wine or sparkling water.”
“Water’s fine then.”
I fill two glasses, set them on the table, and take a seat across from Sam, who’s already flopped into a chair.
“The whole thing was horrible,” I say. “When I was invited to the house, I convinced myself that he wanted to hear what I thought, but he lit into me the second I got there. And then Liam joined in. They seemed to know everything I’ve done, everywhere I’ve looked.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t leave my car out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been checking up on you, and I didn’t want to give Drew any more fodder.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have minded his fury if anything positive had come out of the experience, but it didn’t. It seems clear that Liam’s real-estate holdings are a dead end.”
“You asked him about those?” Sam says, obviously surprised.
“They ended up giving me an opening.” As tough as it is to rehash the encounter, I relate Liam’s testy explanation for how he became a mini-real-estate mogul. “Does that make sense to you?” I ask when I’m finished. As an economics guru, Sam would certainly know.
He cocks his head, his expression pensive. “Yeah, that didn’t occur to me right off the bat, but that trajectory is certainly possible in a good market, if he had enough for the first down payment. But do you think Drew might have been covering for Liam?”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. It seemed like Drew was fully in the loop, and he must have had enough access to Liz’s bank statements to confirm that Liam hadn’t made any inappropriate withdrawals. Andif he had the slightest inkling Liam murdered Jamie, he would never hush it up, no matter what it meant for the family. He adored Jamie.”
Sam nods and reaches for the glass with one hand, while the other rests on the faded oiled tablecloth. His hands are nicely shaped, with long, slim fingers, and I realize I was so busy tryingnotto look at Sam during my relationship with Jamie that this is the first time I’ve ever reallyseenthem.
“Regardless,” Sam says, “he’s allowing his anger at you to get in the way of his judgment. And I feel guilty because I’m part of the reason you walked into a trap. When I spoke to Drew, I thought he seemed genuinely intrigued about the dog and what it might mean.”
“He said he could tell you only called him because I talked you into it.”
“He’s lying,” Sam says, his eyes flashing. “I told him I was as concerned as you were.”
I exhale, happy to have my doubts about Sam quieted. “The bottom line is that he’s not going to help us. We’re back to square one and all by ourselves there.”
“So, what’s next?”
“Can I run something by you? Ever since I became convinced Jamie was murdered, I assumed someone must have gone to the party intending to kill him. But now I’m wondering if something occurredat the partythat triggered the whole thing. When you were around Jamie, who was he talking to—and what was he discussing?”
Sam shrugs. “It was run-of-the-mill, I think. During the actual dinner, our table talked mostly about Vic’s book, about the mass hysteria in Salem and how we’ve seen so many modern examples of it. There was a certain amount of awkwardness because of that fucking party-crasher, Percy, but she mostly sulked while the rest of us ignored her.”
“What about before and after dinner? Did you hear or see him talking to anyone?”
He lifts his eyes up and to the left, clearly thinking. “He spoke to you in the study, of course. And right before that I overheard him chatting with a friend of Vic’s, something about playing more tennis in August.”
“I heard part of that. He was saying he was going to make pomodoro sauce and do some genealogy research.” I’d missed everything after that, as a couple of people had pushed past me just then to get to the bar.
Sam nods. “Yeah, he told the guy he believed he had ancestors in Norway, but he wasn’t sure how much his father had romanticized it. He’d just ordered one of those DNA tests from someplace like 23andMe, and he was thinking of going to Norway next year.”
“Anything else?”
“Not really, and since I left before dessert, I know nothing about the last part of the evening.”
“Maybe it’s a stupid theory. As you said, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.”
