Living with the Dead

The boyfriend – Karl Marsten – was another matter. His good looks came with the polished sheen and casual arrogance Fi

Again, it was all in the body language. Marsten took the chair directly across from Fi

When he'd first taken that chair and fixed Fi

While they were talking, Damon slipped in. He said nothing, just stood off to the side, listening. Adams finished relaying her account of the night Portia Kane died, then came the big question: "When's the last time you spoke to Robyn?"

Adams 's gaze shifted to Marsten, and Fi

"An hour and a half ago."

Fi

She checked her watch. "Ninety-five minutes. I'd looked at the time just before I got her message, because I was wondering how long the maid had been cleaning our room." She paused. "I suppose that's what you meant – when's the last time we had contact. I didn't speak to her, though. She just left a message where we'd been staying, saying she was on her way here."

"Here?"

"To the police station. To turn…" Adams let the sentence trail off, her eyes meeting his. "She is here, right? That's why you called. We were at Bane together, so she gave you our names to back up her story…" Seeing his expression, her hands tightened on the chair arm. She twisted to Marsten, but he was already leaning toward her, his fingers on her forearm, murmuring under his breath. When he turned on Fi

"Robyn was turning herself in. If she's not at this station, I'd suggest you start making calls."

Fi

Fi

He returned ten minutes later to a quiet room. Too quiet, as if they'd heard him coming and stopped talking. He glanced at Damon, but he was lost in his thoughts.

"Ms. Peltier hasn't turned herself in to any precinct or any officer," Fi

"I guess not," Adams 's admission came slowly, her lashes lowered. "If we're done here, Detective…" She started to rise.

"I have a few more questions."

As she sat, Marsten glanced at his watch. "Is it really necessary for us both to be here?"

If Marsten hadn't noticed anything at the nightclub, then there was nothing he could tell Fi

"When's the last time you saw Robyn?"

"I last saw her Thursday night, when we left Bane."

"And spoke to her?"

"Earlier this afternoon. She called from a pay phone to let me know she was okay and ask for advice. I wanted to meet, but she didn't want to get me involved. When I insisted, she hung up. We went back to our hotel, and that's when we got the message."

"And before that? Had you spoken to her since Thursday?"

Adams shook her head. "I tried calling her cell Friday morning, after I saw the paper. Some guy answered. I think he'd found the phone. Anyway, that freaked me out, so I phoned her apartment and left a message. She didn't return it. It's probably still on the machine."

"And then?"

"I went into the office for an hour, just doing paperwork. I usually spend Fridays writing from my place, but I wanted to stop by, in case she tried calling me there. I kept hoping she would. But she didn't until this afternoon."

Fi

"Lost him?"

Damon turned, startled. "Ah-ha. Now you're the one sneaking up on me. Payback's a bitch, huh?" His words were light, but no humor reached his eyes.

"I thought I asked you to follow him," Fi

"I did. He went outside."

"I meant follow him wherever – "

"I did."

He pointed. Fi

"That's as far as he went," Damon continued. "He made three phone calls. For the first two, no one must have answered because he seemed to be leaving a message. I got as close as I could, but with the noise out here, I didn't hear much. He's one guy who lowers his voice on a cell, instead of raising it, and while I'd normally appreciate such consideration, it really didn't help for eavesdropping."

Fi

"You said he made a third call?" Fi

"Someone answered and they talked for a few minutes. It sounded like business. If you'd like me to speculate on what kind of business…"

"Go for it," Fi

"My guess is he called his lawyer. There was some definite legalese going on. As for what, I can probably speculate on that, too…"

Fi

"I don't know Karl that well. He'd only been dating Hope for a few months before I got shot, and I could tell he was never going to be hanging out on my couch, chugging beer, watching the game. But I got a decent feel for the guy. He acts smooth, but he's hard as nails. Guys like Karl know their rights and they don't give an inch, i

Marsten had straightened and was sca

"What did they talk about earlier?" Fi

"Hmm?"

"When I left the room to make those calls. What did they say?"

"Nothing."

He turned to Damon. "She just found out Robyn hadn't turned herself in. They had to say – "

"Zip. They aren't stupid, Fi

Adams and Marsten were walking away now, ignoring passing taxis, presumably heading to a parked car.

"So do you think your wife lost her nerve?" Fi

He blinked his worry away, then said, softly, "No."

"Neither do they."

Fi