Girls' Night Out Read Online Free Page B

particularly hateful at this point, when I was so tantalizingly close to finishing a picture. Where the paint would dry and I’d have to re-create that color again.
    When I’d been here before, they hadn’t kept me waiting.
    If only I’d brought my own car. I could go home. Tell them to call me when I was ready and I’d come back. Could a person really do that? Just walk out of the station when summoned by the chief? What was wrong with these people? That cop had made it seem urgent, and now nothing was happening. I hated game playing. I hated liars. I liked dealing straight up. I was about to be a liar. I already was one. Taking Hanrahan home last night had been the big lie. One I could never come clean about.
    Breathe, Rory, breathe , I told myself. I knew the chief well enough to know the game that was being played here. I’d seen it played to good effect. They wanted to make me anxious. I mustn’t let them. Breathe. My heart was jumping like a trapped frog. The ingot kept getting heavier. Those silky skeins of time kept sliding. Sliding. If I didn’t stop this, I’d be a hopeless mess by the time the chief got around to me.
    I folded one leg up under me and thought about little Aurora’s picture. On the surface, it was a simple picture of roses, delicate, pale peach roses in an opalescent vase, sitting on a shiny wood table. That would have been hard enough, getting the luminescence of the vase, the sheen of the table, the complexity of colors of the opening roses. But what I was trying to put into the layers of opening petals was possibility. The infinite opportunities for enrichment and beauty that lay ahead for Suzan’s child. I was painting hope and mystery, life’s amazing unfolding, its beauty and its fragility. If I could get it right, the picture would hold that special love women have for their dear friends’ daughters, the hope that goes forward to the next generation.
    I took a breath, inhaling the scent of those roses. I could almost feel the warmth and love I’d put on that canvas. I hoped little Aurora would.
    I was so deeply into my thoughts that the opening door startled me. Chief Sheehan took the seat across the table.
    â€œRory,” she said, “how have you been?”
    We knew each other, of course. You can’t be almost killed by your own husband and not get involved with your local police.
    â€œIt’s getting better.”
    She nodded, then flipped open the folder she’d brought. “Jay Hanrahan,” she said. “You know him?”
    â€œNo.”
    She raised an eyebrow. That’s all. But it was an eloquent gesture. Dorothy Sheehan was a minimalist. Crisp hair. Quiet clothes. Even the frames of her glasses disappeared, leaving only the clean, hard lines of her face. She stared at me with her X-ray eyes.
    â€œI met a man in a bar last night. He seemed nice. He told me his name was Dan McCarthy. Later, he drove me home. When we got to my place, he started feeling unwell. I said I’d drive him home and get a friend to pick me up. When I was taking him home, he told me his name was really Jay Hanrahan. I guess he figured I’d find out anyway.”
    â€œYou recognized the name?”
    â€œI don’t watch much TV, Chief, but I’m not totally isolated.”
    â€œYour friend’s name?”
    Reluctantly, I divulged Tess’s information. She and I had already agreed on the story.
    â€œWasn’t feeling well…” She tapped her pen twice on the table. “Could you elaborate?”
    Another piece of lead was pressing on my chest. “He took some pills at my place. Yohimbe, he said it was. It was shortly after that he said he felt sick. By the time we got to his place, he’d started sweating and kept pressing his hand against his chest. I asked if he wanted to go to the emergency room or if he wanted me to call 911. He said no, I should just leave. So I