The officer says, “You should file a complaint.”
“Oh, I don’t like to start things, but if you need another statement, you know where to find me.”
“Good to know, because we’re just at the beginning stages here.”
“How many stages are there to a noise complaint?”
Officer Middlebury’s smile drips with condescension. “Perhaps I haven’t been clear. The beginning we’re at is looking into the disappearance of Grayson Fields.”
Nerves make Mallory release a bubble of laughter. “Sounds like a magician show.”
The officer doesn’t even blink.
“Oh, oh, you’re serious?” She draws Harley closer. “But Grayson’s just on a trip. Isn’t he?”
“You tell me. You seem to know more than anyone. Where was he going?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“How long was he going to be gone?”
“A few days,” Mallory says noncommittally, then adds, “Grayson’s not really the best with details. But maybe you could try his secretary? She’s in charge of his schedule.”
“But you might have been the last to see him.” The officer bends to give Harley a scratch under his chin. “We’re still waiting for footage from the building’s cameras, but the gentleman with the bad back at the security desk can’t remember seeing him leave. We’re still trying to nail down a timeline.”
Here’s her opening. “Well, maybe I can help. We left before he did. I think about...” Vague is better, right? “It was after brunch.” Mallory scrunches up her cheeks, as if deep in thought. “I’m sorry, we had mimosas, plural, so I’m not exactly sure of the time.”
“We, meaning you and Mr. Fields?”
“He had some, yes, and Ilena and Aubrey, my friends and business partners, though Ilena technically only had the juice because she’s pregnant.”
The officer stands, giving a slight (fake) chuckle. “They stayed over too? You all must be really close.”
Mallory refrains from sinking her teeth into her lip, straightens her spine to accentuate the several inches she has over the officer, and lobs that chuckle right back. “They came over in the morning. We were celebrating. Actually, we were celebrating what’s happening upstairs. My company—our company—is going to be onThe Shandy Shane Show. They’re doing some B-roll footage today. I really shouldn’t keep them waiting. Is there anything else I can do for you, Officer?”
“This interview, is it local?”
“Yes, though I’m not sure if they use an audience. I can ask, if you’re interested.”
“I only stream. Don’t even have cable.” The officer hands Mallory a card. “Let me know if you do have to travel for any reason. We might have some more questions.”
“Sure thing. I’ll also ping him myself. But he’ll be back soon. Nothing would stop him from being on TV.”
“Really?” Officer Middlebury says with renewed interest.
Mallory wants to kick herself. “You know men with big egos.”
“You aren’t worried?”
What would someone who has no idea what’s happening say?
“I wasn’t, but I guess I’m starting to be, a little.” She scoops up Harley, the sheath dress doing nothing to hide the fading marks on her forearm. Mallory adjusts the dog to cover. “Is it okay if we check in with you?”
The officer gives nothing away. “Absolutely. Open dialogue.”
“Perfect.”
“Perfectly perfect.”
