Chapter 10 #2
I shrug. Part of me resents Logan for creating this situation—couldn’t he have just given Lisa a pair of fucking diamond earrings to show his gratitude for her help on the scholarships—but I also feel sorry for him.
The dinner tonight and the reception Thursday are a culmination of his yearslong plan to pay tribute to our daughter, to make sure her name lives on, and instead of simply relishing the experience, he’s got to navigate having both his ex-wife and current girlfriend on-site with him.
“What we should be focusing on right now is Halligan,” I tell him. “Making sure he talks to Jack when he’s here and also starts thinking about other suspects.”
“Absolutely. By the way, I also texted you the details for the dinner tonight. Will you need a lift?”
You mean: Do I want to ride over with you and Lisa?
“No, thanks. And Maya isn’t expecting me to say anything tonight, is she?”
Logan shakes his head. “Not unless you want to. I can speak for both of us if you like.”
“Yes, please . . . See you later, then.”
I take the stairs to my floor, and after peeling off my coat, I sit in the armchair for a couple of minutes, decompressing. Being around Lisa would be far more tolerable if she weren’t so irritating.
Finally, I dig my phone from my purse, scroll through my contacts, and tap the number for Harry Kronish.
He was one of Melanie’s two apartment mates the year she died, and as far as I know, he’s still living in San Francisco.
He’d been out of town at his family home the Friday night of the murder—her other roommate, Jennifer Choi, had been away as well—but he’d rushed back as soon as he heard the news.
Once the police went through everything in the apartment, Harry joined Logan and me in packing up Mel’s belongings, and he also helped us track down extra copies of The Muse, which he’d worked on, too.
He even wrote to us a few times in the years right afterward.
Since last night I’ve had time to consider what I want to say to Harry, and I’m just hoping that the old number I have for him is still one he uses.
The phone rings and rings, not even going to voicemail. I’m about to hang up when a man answers, though—to my dismay—not one who sounds like the Harry I remember.
“Hello?” he asks, his tone wary.
I tell him who I’m looking for and inquire if this is the right number.
“Yup, but it’s a landline, not a cell. And he’s at work right now.”
I give my name and ask if he’d mind providing Harry’s cell number, adding that he used to share an apartment with my daughter.
“Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll have him get in touch.”
I do, half expecting that I might never hear back, but twenty minutes later, Harry calls me.
“Bree, hi,” he says. “My partner just gave me your message.”
His voice sounds deeper, more mature than I remember, and I realize that the image I have of him in my mind—the dark spiky hair, the oversize greatcoat—is probably all wrong now, too.
“Thanks so much for calling back, Harry.”
“I’m just happy you got through to me. Though I’ve had this landline ever since I moved here, I’m finally about to get rid of it.”
“How lucky for me, then. Tell me what you’re up to these days.”
“Still loving the Bay Area. As you might have surmised, I’ve got a boyfriend with the social skills of a stapler—but otherwise he’s a great guy, ridiculously brilliant—and I handle branding and social media for a big apparel company here.
Which means I didn’t end up becoming the fabulous writer of my dreams, but it’s a fun job. ”
“I’m so glad to hear that, Harry.”
And I mean it. I remember him as a warm, funny person who I once imagined being in Mel’s life forever.
“What about you?” he asks. “I sense something’s going on.”
“It is. I’m in Cartersville now, and, confidentially, the cops have some doubts now about Melanie’s case. They’re wondering if someone other than Ruck murdered her.”
“What? Oh my God. Do—do they have a new suspect?”
“Not yet. It’s possible the police will reach out to you at some point, but in the meantime, I wondered if anyone comes to mind.”
“You mean, could it have been someone she knew?” he asks.
“There’s no suggestion of that right now, but it has to be considered.”
While I’m speaking, I fish quickly in my purse for my pen and notepad.
“Wow, off the top of my head, I can’t think of anyone,” Harry says.
“As you know, Mel didn’t suffer fools, but people liked her.
And though she sometimes got irritated by some of the slackers on the literary magazine or maybe a castmate in one of the plays she did, it never seemed like a major deal. ”
“What about her personal relationships? Were you ever aware of any conflict?”
“Uh, not that I remember, but, of course, it’s been a while. Are you wondering about the romantic front, too?”
As far as Logan and I were aware, there’d been no one since Jack, and we guessed she was still smarting from the breakup, but who knows, maybe something had begun to percolate.
“Right, the romantic front, too.”
“There was nothing full-blown as far as I know, but I had the sense she’d started seeing someone new. And that she might have been smitten.”
The hairs on the back of my neck have shot up. “We weren’t aware of that,” I say. “Did you mention this to the police?”
“Yeah, and I figured they’d look into it, but I assumed they lost interest in that angle once they made the arrest.”
“She never said a name?”
“No.”
“But what made you think there was someone?”
“She was walking around with a certain look on her face, like the cat that ate the canary. At first, I thought it was all because of the weather. It had been cold and rainy during the first half of October, and then suddenly there was this beautiful stretch of Indian summer, which put everyone in a good mood. But I finally suspected it was more than that with her. I asked her something like, ‘You don’t have a new squeeze, do you?’ and she laughed and said, ‘My lips are sealed.’”
I take a deep breath, jotting down some of his words. I know my daughter was a mystery to me, but it always hurts to be reminded of that.
“So this was right before she died.”
“Yeah.”
“She must have been over Jack finally,” I say.
“Oh, she was long over him.”
“She wasn’t heartbroken anymore?”
“God, no, she was never heartbroken over Jack. Mel dumped him, though I know he let everyone think it was the other way around.”