Page 76 of Dancing in the Dark

“Okay.” Reese picks up her trilling desk phone. “This is Mayor Lawrence’s office, Reese speaking. How can I help you?”

Nodding, I knock on Justin’s door and wait a single second, then I let myself in and find him waiting for me in a crisp black, pinstripe suit made to fit his broad shoulders. He sits behind his desk, his left ankle braced on his right knee and both hands casually set in his lap.

But his eyes, silver and steely, watch me closely.

Ugh. He sure knows how to make a girl feel like she’s sixteen years old again and sneaking in after curfew.

“Good morning, Mr. Lawrence.” I close the door and move hesitantly toward his desk. “I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

“No.” He gestures toward his visitor's chair. “Not late at all.”

“Great.” I take a seat and set my things on my lap. “Would you like to go over today’s agenda?”

“Let’s cover the Bayside investigation first.” He snags a half-full coffee mug from his desk and brings it up. “I believe the detectives have identified her?”

“Ah, yes.” I’ve already read this woman’s bio a dozen times and could probably recite every detail on rote, but I navigate to my emails anyway, pull up the one Archer sent while I was ignoring the world and dancing in my living room last night, then I scroll down and use my phone as an excuse not to meet his hard eyes. “She’s been formally identified as Johanna Waltham. She’s a twenty-three-year-old tax accountant and works for Slater and Datsun, a firm on the other side of the bridge. I believe the detectives intend to speak to her employers today.”

“Good.” He takes a contemplative sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “What else?”

“She, uh…” I know Justin is friendly with Archer and Minka, and I know I, too, have a personal relationship with them, which means the emails I receive from Archer probably come with a slightly more casual flair than, say, those he would send to Anderson or the like. This is how I know that, “She didn’t have ID on her when she washed ashore, but the detectives were able to identify her by running her fingerprints through their systems.”

“Criminal past?” he wonders. “Or security clearances?

“Criminal, sir. She was charged approximately a year ago for theft.” I peek up from beneath my lashes. “According to Detective Malone, she swiped traffic cones on a night out with her girlfriends. Unfortunately for her, it was all caught on CCTV. She was ordered to pay damages and attend a seminar for low-level perpetrators.”

A soft chuckle rolls along his throat. “Unfortunate, indeed. And absolutely something my own daughters would do, so I can’t find a great deal of energy to grumble about Ms. Waltham’s checkered past. Luckily, my daughters’ crimes have been, for the most part, committed in the absence of security cameras. Chief Mayet is attached to this case, correct? Have we reached a cause of death?”

“I’ve received no reports from her as of yet, but Detective Malone’s email hints toward asphyxiation.” I lock my phone again. “That’s all we know so far.”

“Asphyxiation…” He ponders. “Like her killer held a pillow over her face and tossed her overboard after she was dead? Or asphyxiation, like she choked on a peanut and stumbled overboard in her panic and no one realized?”

“I-I don’t know, sir. But I’ll follow up with the detectives shortly.”

“Alright.” He carefully balances his coffee mug on the side of his knee. “I heard there was a small ruckus at the bay yesterday. A clash of horns between the detectives and Deputy Legal Counsel Markum. Do you have a comment on that?”

Just my entire breakfast, barfed up and soaking a gross stain in your rug. “Uh…”

“I don’t intend to pry. But you know Markum has been on my mind increasingly lately. I’ve felt off about him since day one, and when you’ve reached my age and life experience, you learn not to brush those kinds of things away without, at the very least, digging around a little.”

Oh, God. Here it comes.

“What happened yesterday?”

“He, uh…” I nervously tuck locks of hair behind my ears. “He and the detectives had words. My understanding is that he intends to keep a close eye on this investigation, and they…” I shrug. “Would prefer close meant five miles away and in silence.”

Justin’s lips twitch with a smile he doesn’t allow to unfurl completely. “How do you expect the rest of this case to unfold? Will Markum’s involvement place Ms. Waltham’s investigation under undue strain? And by extension, will the tension between Detective Fletcher and Markum cause undue strain for you?”

“N-no, sir.” Charlie promised he would be good. “I don’t expect it will. They’ve worked together in the past. It’s not comfortable, but it’s doable.”

“Right…” He inhales a lungful of air and considers me until his stare becomes a pounding drumbeat in the back of my skull.

I gulp.

“Does Detective Fletcher know of your past with Markum?”

Damn, damn, damn him for asking!

“Yes, sir.” I drop my gaze and look anywhere but at him. “As of late yesterday afternoon, Detective Fletcher became aware.”