Brutality (14 page)

Fina took a piece for herself and marveled at the restorative powers of butter, cheese, and garlic. She and Bobbi sat eating quietly for a few minutes.

“Do you want specifics about what I’m working on?” Fina finally asked. “Or do you prefer I wait until I have something significant?”

“I don’t need specifics right now. Jamie and I need to figure this out, but maybe after . . .” Bobbi trailed off.

“That’s fine. Just let me know.”

There was a gust of cold wind as the door opened, and Jamie walked into the pizza shop.

“Bobbi,” he called over to her. “The kids are here with Mrs. Sandraham.”

Bobbi looked up. “I’ve got to go, Fina. We’re doing a handoff. We don’t want the kids to spend too much time without either one of us.”

“Of course.”

Bobbi rose and gathered her belongings before coming around the table to give Fina a hug. Fina gave her an extra-tight squeeze to make up for her loss of words.

Jamie and Bobbi exchanged a few words before Jamie came over to the table. Fina really didn’t know what to say to him; end-of-life decisions were intensely private, and she didn’t presume that he wanted to discuss it with her.

“I’m heading over to the hospital,” he said.

“Right. I was just touching base with Bobbi.” Fina sat back down, but Jamie remained standing. “She told me about Liz’s condition. I’m sorry.”

He nodded. Really, what was there to say?

“Have you found something out?” he asked.

“There haven’t been any major developments,” Fina said, “if that’s what you mean. I’ve been talking to a lot of people, which may not seem like much, but it’s important.”

“Who have you been talking to?”

“Kelly Wegner, Kevin Lafferty, Tasha, Gus Sibley. The development officer at NEU, Pamela Fordyce.”

Jamie pursed his lips at one of the names on the list, but Fina couldn’t be sure who had elicited the reaction.

“What was that?” she asked.

“What?”

“You just reacted to one of those names.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said.

“Jamie.” Fina pulled off part of the garlic bread. “Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter. Sit down for a minute and tell me what’s going on.” She popped the morsel of bread into her mouth.

He hesitated.

“Talking to me is a concrete way to improve this horrible situation,” Fina said.

Jamie considered this before dropping into the chair that Bobbi had vacated.

“So who on that list bugs you?” Fina asked.

He massaged the back of his neck with his hand before answering. “Kevin Lafferty.”

“I didn’t realize you knew Kevin Lafferty.”

“Not well, but I don’t like him.”

“Why not?”

“I think he’s slimy.”

“He’s definitely a smooth operator, but what makes you so sure he’s a bad guy?”

Jamie shook his head. “I don’t know, I just don’t like him. I think the whole booster thing is weird.”

Fina shrugged. “I agree, but people have all kinds of hobbies. It’s not that different than people who are passionate fans of a pro sports team.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t understand that, either.”

“Some people might not understand your love of music and the sacrifices you were willing to make to play.”

Jamie was silent.

Fina took a deep breath. This was like pulling teeth. “That can’t be the only reason he rubs you the wrong way.”

He lightly kicked at the empty chair next to him with the thick toe of his boot. “He had a thing for Liz,” he said a moment later.

“What makes you say that?” Fina chewed another bite of garlic bread and washed it down with a pull of diet soda.

“Any time they saw each other, he flirted with her. He called her a couple of times, but she acted like it was no big deal.”

“This was recently? He called her recently?” Fina asked.

“A month or so ago.”

“Did she say what the calls were about?”

“Something about the NEU soccer program,” Jamie said, “but she never said more than that.”

“So, what? You think they were having an affair?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “What would you think in my position?”

“Fair enough,” Fina said.

“I need to go.”

“Wait, one more thing. Why didn’t you identify Kevin when I showed you the old NEU newspapers?”

Jamie picked at the skin around his thumb before answering. “I didn’t recognize him,” he said. He stood, and she watched as he swayed ever so slightly, reaching for the back of the chair to steady himself.

“Are you okay?” Fina asked. “Maybe you should sit down again.”

“I’m exhausted. That’s all.”

He left Fina at the table to contemplate his claim that he hadn’t recognized Kevin. She found it hard to believe, but maybe he genuinely was too distracted at that moment, or maybe he was too embarrassed at the prospect of his wife and Kevin being involved.

Fina pitched her can in the recycling bin and placed the empty plate and mug on the counter. She reached into her wallet and pulled out twenty bucks, which she slid toward the young man.

“Thank you,” she said. “That was very kind.”

He slid the bill back in her direction. “On the house.”

“If you insist,” Fina said, depositing the money in the tip jar.

Outside, she jogged to the parking lot as the frigid wind sought out every available inch of exposed skin. She was dismayed to think that Jamie wasn’t being up front with her, but she could cut him some slack, given that his life was falling apart.

But Kevin Lafferty?

There was no excuse for the lies he’d told her.

9.

Fina searched the NEU website and found the address for Liz’s workplace, the Schaefer Lab of Environmental and Chemical Engineering. She also learned that the director of the lab—presumably Liz’s boss—was Dr. Vikram Mehra. She located the lab on the map and navigated her way to the nearest parking garage.

Fina never felt bad about racking up expenses when she was on a case for Carl, but this case was different. She cringed every time she paid for parking or contemplated Emma’s exorbitant fee. Bobbi Barone didn’t strike Fina as living high off the hog, and these expenses added up. Perhaps Carl would have to subsidize the case—unbeknownst to him, of course.

Fina pulled into the garage and locked her gun in the trunk. She had a permit to carry a concealed weapon, but she knew it would cause a brouhaha if she had to go through a metal detector. Her gun was probably the least dangerous thing in the lab.

“I’m here to see Dr. Mehra,” she told the security guard behind the desk in the lobby.

“Who are you?” He was a black man with heavy-lidded eyes. He did a visual inventory of her, a slow and exhaustive process.

“I’m a private investigator.” She held up her license for his inspection. “I’ve been hired by Liz Barone’s family.”

The man made a phone call, which Fina couldn’t overhear despite her best efforts.

“Dr. Mehra is unavailable. You’re welcome to try back in an hour.”

Fina looked around the lobby. “Is there any place I can sit and wait?”

He stared at her. “No.”

“No?”

“There is a coffee shop around the corner. I imagine you would be welcome there.”

“All righty then. I’ll be back.”

Fina understood that they might not want people hanging around in a lab building for security reasons, but he could have been a little more chipper.

She found the aforementioned coffee shop and bought a hot chocolate, which she nursed while she caught up on e-mails. An hour and fifteen minutes later, she walked back to the lab, hoping her luck had changed.

“I’m back,” she said, handing him her license.

“Hmm. Well, aren’t we the lucky ones,” he said.

“Well, I think so, but I’m biased,” Fina responded.

He picked up the phone and had another hushed conversation. He replaced the receiver and keyed her information into the computer.

Fina glanced at the name tag on his navy blue blazer. “Louis, can I ask you a question?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You don’t have to answer, I suppose.”

He kept typing, but didn’t respond.

“As I mentioned an hour and fifteen minutes ago, I’m investigating the attack on Liz Barone. Did you know her?”

“I know everyone who works here,” he said.

“So you’d know if someone wanted to hurt her.”

He raised his lids and studied her. “I don’t know their personal business.”

Fina leaned her elbows on the counter separating them. “Oh, come on. You see everyone who goes in and out of this place. You know who’s sneaking out early, and I bet you know who’s fraternizing when they shouldn’t be.”

Louis shook his head. “I know nothing.”

“What’s Dr. Mehra like?” Fina asked.

“You are quite the chatterbox,” he said, placing a visitor’s ID badge in front of her.

“Liz is in critical condition. If you know anything that could shed some light on the situation, I know her family would appreciate it.”

“Through the metal detector, take the elevator to the eighth floor.” He gestured toward the elevator bank.

“Let’s stay in touch,” Fina said, slipping her card toward him.

Louis picked it up and deposited it in the trash can by his feet.

“Oh come on, Louis. Humor me!” She grinned and walked through the metal detector.

—

F
ina’s boots squeaked on the shiny linoleum of the eighth floor. She followed a sign to the Schaefer Lab and found a small grouping of desks in an open area halfway down the hallway. Three were unoccupied, but a young woman in a lab coat was seated at the fourth.

“I’m looking for Dr. Mehra’s office,” Fina said.

“Last door on the right,” she answered.

“Thanks.” Fina continued down the hallway and stopped at the last door, which was ajar. A man was seated with his back to the door, studying something on his computer at a workstation. Fina knocked and poked her head in.

“Dr. Mehra?”

“Yes, come in.” He rotated his chair around so he was facing his desk and the doorway.

“I’m Fina Ludlow. I’m a private investigator.” She walked to his desk and extended her hand. He looked at her blankly, then shook it. His skin was cool and dry.

“May I sit down?” Fina asked when an invitation was not forthcoming.

Vikram gestured at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

The office was tidy, but lacked any warmth or personality. Most of the surfaces were bare, and the floor was clear of boxes and piles. Magazine files, each neatly labeled, filled the open shelving units. There was a coffee mug on the desk and one framed photo showing Vikram, a woman, and two teenage children; no one was smiling. The window overlooked roofs of smaller buildings, and the sill held two potted succulents.

“I was wondering if you could provide some information,” Fina asked.

Vikram tilted his head and opened his mouth in an expression that brought to mind the wolf in
Little Red Riding Hood
. His white teeth glimmered against his skin. “First, I’d like to hear exactly who you are and why you’re here,” he said.

“Of course.” It was a simple and legitimate request, and Fina was always surprised by how infrequently it was made of her. She wouldn’t always be transparent, but there was a greater chance she would be if only people asked.

“As I said, my name is Fina Ludlow. I’m a private investigator, and Liz Barone’s family has hired me to investigate the attack she sustained.”

“Are you working with the police?” Vikram asked. He was wearing a white lab coat over a pair of khakis and a plaid button-down shirt.

“Of course. Lieutenant Pitney and I have spoken about the situation, and I’m in frequent contact with Detective Menendez. I assume they’ve spoken with you.”

“Yes, and I didn’t have anything of value to share,” Vikram said.

Fina smiled. “Well, I’m sure they told you that it’s hard to know what’s of value until a lot of information has been gathered.”

“That’s exactly what they said.”

“Can you spare a few minutes?” Fina asked.

Vikram sighed and looked at his watch. “I suppose.”

“Could you tell me what Liz’s job entailed?” Fina asked.

“Liz is the administrative manager of the lab.”

“What does that mean specifically?”

“She orders equipment, manages the budget, that sort of thing,” Vikram said.

“And what’s your position?”

“I’m the scientific director. I oversee all aspects of the lab, including the actual research projects.”

“What do you study here?” Fina asked.

Vikram launched into a spiel on pesticides, and Fina filed it under
information she really didn’t want to know
. That was one of the benefits of a largely processed diet; she rarely worried about the chemicals on her fruits and vegetables.

“Did Liz have conflicts with any of her colleagues?”

Vikram shrugged. “When you’re in charge of managing the budget and other resources, it’s not unusual for someone to be unhappy with you.”

“But there was no one in particular?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“And your relationship with Liz?” she asked.

“It was professional,” he replied, stony-faced.

“I assumed as much.” It would be hard to have an intimate relationship with an ice cube, after all. “My understanding is that you had a conflict with Liz.”

He peered at her. “Where are you getting your information from, Ms. Ludlow?”

Fina smiled at him. “From a variety of sources. Is it true?”

“You’ve been misled, I’m afraid,” Vikram said. “You’ll need to leave now. I’m very busy.” He picked up a pen and uncapped it in anticipation of her departure.

“Thanks very much for your time.”

Fina started down the hall, knowing that that wasn’t the last she would see of Vikram Mehra. She was passing the grouping of desks when a loud voice echoed after her.

“Dana, I need to see the latest readings!” Vikram hollered to the young woman who’d directed Fina to his office.

Dana pushed back her chair and rolled her eyes. Fina smiled in solidarity and made her way to the elevator.

Downstairs, Fina pulled off her visitor’s badge and swung by the front desk.