Good Guys and Bad Guys

Well there are good guys and there are bad guys
And there are crooks and criminals
There are doctors and there are lawyers
And there aer folks like you and me.

 

Trixie’s longing for a good night’s sleep was forgotten. The excitement and pleasure of seeing her oldest brother drove such thoughts far from her mind as she pulled Brian into her apartment.

“If someone asked me who the last person I expected to see knocking on my door at this hour, you would’ve definitely been a contender.” Trixie took his coat and quickly hung it in her closet. Noting his need for a shave and his duffle bag, she blurted out her next question. “Is everything okay? Honey …”

“Everything is fine. Honey is doing great. She’s busier than ever with a new assignment, but yeah, we’re fine.” Brian rubbed a hand along his rough jaw. “They threw me out of the hospital for the next two weeks. Apparently, I have some time coming.”

“Your residency is going okay, right? It’ll still be over in June?” Trixie led him into the kitchen, where she put the kettle on to heat.

“Trixie. Everything is fine. I had extra time that Honey didn’t have and I was tired of hanging around the apartment while she worked twelve-hour days. Since she’ll be joining me in less than a week, I figured the best thing I could do to help her was get out of her hair for a few days. Now she’ll be able to work fourteen-hour days and not feel guilty about me having time off.”

“But why me? Why not Mart and Di or Crabapple Farm?” Trixie scrabbled around the cupboard for the ingredients to prepare hot chocolate. Giving up, she pulled two packets of instant a box in her pantry.

“I’m getting the distinct impression you don’t want me here,” Brian remarked, leaning against the counter as she dumped the dry mix into two mugs.

“Of course I want you here!” she protested. “I’m just surprised.” She caught his eye and grinned. “Now I’m getting the distinct impression you’re here for another reason than because you like me better than Mart.”

Brian laughed. “If you tell Mart that, so help me, I’ll get you back.”

Trixie shared the laugh with him before throwing her arms around him in an impulsive hug. “I’m glad you picked me!”

“Back at you,” he replied, returning the hug.

“Just to show you …” Trixie pulled away and reached for a lower cabinet. She pulled out an oblong cake pan with a cover and removed it, revealing an unopened pack of Oreo cookies. “I’m going to share.”

“You hide cookies in your own apartment?” Brian asked in amazement. “From who, Mart?”

“Well, a girl can never be too safe when it comes to cookies around him,” she admitted. “But no, I hide them from me. If I see them, I’ll eat them until they’re gone. But if I don’t see them, I have to think twice. I’ve already missed enough runs this month to know that I don’t need to be splurging on cookies unless the situation warrants. This one does.” She put the package on the counter and shoved the cake pan back under the cabinet without looking.

The teakettle hissed, and Trixie added hot water to the mugs, motioning for Brian to pick one up. She handed him a spoon and put the package of cookies on the table.

“Now tell me, why is Honey working so much? Last time I talked to her, they were working on transitioning her major projects to another attorney since they knew she’d be leaving in June.”

Brian opened the cookies and selected one before he answered. “That was the plan. But you may have heard about the big arrest in Boston of our Massachusetts Molester?” He quirked a questioning brow at her.

Trixie nodded. “It was in all the headlines. Everyone was surprised it was a woman. That had been a well-kept secret from the public during the investigation.”

“Right. Well, there was a special request from the Attorney General’s office asking her to assist on the case. You may know some of this, but they’re working to link this suspect to crimes they believe she’s committed in several states, including New York. They’re going to try her in Massachusetts, and if they can’t get hard time for her there, it’s possible they’ll extradite her to New York for trial. Honey’s bosses want her to work the case in Massachusetts and transfer with it to New York if it comes to that.”

“Wow. Why don’t the feds just charge her?” Trixie asked.

Brian shrugged. “Something to do with the fact that it’s not in their jurisdiction. I thought you’d know that.”

Trixie snorted. “That doesn’t always stop them.”

“Honey thinks it will enhance her career with your agency.”

“Probably so,” Trixie admitted. “I guess I didn’t realize they were going to trial so quickly with this. They only arraigned her what, a month ago?”

Brian shook his head. “Those are questions best asked of Honey.”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “Confess, bro. What are you not telling me?”

Brian tried to look surprised at her question and failed. His face reddened. “Honey said I’d never be able to pull it off.”

Trixie gave a tentative smile, her heart sinking. “You might as well tell me, otherwise I’m going to be waking Honey up if she’s already gone to bed.”

“I’m half tempted to let you wake her up,” Brian admitted. “Otherwise, I’m going to lose the bet.”

“Bet? Oh, I can tell this is going to be good.” Trixie smiled. “Honey bets more than any other Bob-White. You might as well confess. What’s the bet?”

“That I can’t come to New York and spend a few days with you and not tell you that we’re not moving back this summer.”

“What?” Trixie was stunned. “But the agency, the business… your job with Jim’s school. What about all of that?”

“Trixie,” Brian started slowly. “Honey was ready to move back to New York. But I’m not. It’s going to take Jim at least a year to finish the construction on the school. Then he has to get inspections done, apply for students, hire staff. He’ll be lucky to open the school in the autumn of next year.”

“But can’t you work here, in New York? Beth Israel is good, or you could probably work in Sleepyside.”

“Yes, I could, but I don’t want to. There’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in Boston to continue my work with pediatric and adolescent medicine in a way that I might not have here.” Brian reached out and grabbed her hand. “Trixie, those kids at Jim’s school are going to need a doctor who understands the medical and psychological issues they face. I want this fellowship so that I can continue learning and growing for another year or two.”

“Another year!” Trixie echoed dismally. “But …” She stopped as she caught sight of Brian’s eyes, imploring her to understand.

“Honey took the case because she wanted to give you what you wanted,” Trixie said slowly. “Why didn’t she tell me when I was there?”

“Because she didn’t know,” Brian admitted. “That was my fault. I didn’t realize I had a chance to get into the program at Mass-General. They only take the best.”

“You big dolt!” Trixie protested, giving his arm a playful punch. “Of course you were going to get in. Anyone could’ve told you that!”

“Yes, well, you, Jim, and Honey anyway.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not!” Trixie answered immediately. “I can keep things going until Honey’s ready.”

“That’s what I figured. When we heard you’d already hired some people to work in the office, we hoped you could hold on for another year without any problem.”

“Right!” Trixie said brightly. “Do you really want to stay with me, or was that just an excuse to get the real reason for your visit off your conscience?”

“Of course I want to stay here. Mart and Di don’t really have the room, and Dan’s place –” Brian shuddered. “Let’s just say he might have the room, but who’d ever know until he cleaned up? And I definitely don’t want to stay with the Wheelers at their penthouse.”

“What about Moms and Dad?”

“They’ll understand. I’m planning to spend the weekend with them. In the meantime, I was hoping to visit a couple of my old professors over at the medical college. I wanted to run some of the things I’ll be doing in this fellowship by them. They’re doing things at Mass-General we didn’t even consider in medical school. It’d be great if the professors could incorporate some of the latest research in the curriculum. Why just in the area of vaccinations alone …”

Trixie laughed and held up a hand. “I get it! I get it!” She stood up. “Come on, Bri. I’ll show you where to put your stuff. I’ve got to hit the sack or I’m going to be worthless tomorrow and I have way too much going on for that.”

Brian stood and smiled. “Thanks, Trixie. You didn’t have to be so gracious about this. You don’t care if I call Honey and let her know that, well, you know now, do you?”

“Of course not. Use my phone, there’s an extension in your room. Tell her I’ll give her a call in the morning.”

Brian gave her a hug. “You know you’re my favorite sister, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trixie muttered. “You’re my favorite doctor. We both know you can’t be my favorite brother, the other two would never forgive me.”

 

 

Trixie tapped a pencil on her desk in a staccato tattoo she tried again to focus on the case notes in front of her. The notes were generating untold frustration instead of the desired inspiration. Her call to Honey earlier that morning had left a certain awkwardness between the two of them. While Trixie had insisted the change in plans didn’t matter, she couldn’t help but feel that Honey was unconvinced. When her cell phone began to vibrate, she made a grab for it, welcoming the interruption. Glancing at the caller ID display, her heart gave a now-familiar thumpity-thump as she read the number displayed. She smiled and flipped open the phone to answer.

“Hi, Jim.” She leaned back in her chair as she spoke into the phone. “What’s up?”

“Hiya, Trix,” he answered.

Trixie could hear the smile in his voice. She knew he was practically giddy with relief, knowing the fundraiser was just over a week away.

“I’m afraid to ask if you’ve made any progress on Harold’s case.”

“A little,” Trixie admitted. “Speaking of which, how is Harold doing?”

“Holding his own. The medical report is pretty grim. I saw this morning’s police report and they’re officially calling it attempted murder.”

“Too many people know there was more than one bullet,” Trixie offered. “Harold’s secretary, Edith Farrow, has agreed to meet with me this morning. I’m hoping she may have some insight into who his latest, uh, female friend was.”

“Mother said she was surprised Tammy didn’t know,” Jim confessed. “Apparently, it usually only took Tammy less than a month to figure it out.”

“Unfortunately, I think this particular friend wanted something different from his previous indiscretions,” Trixie said. “Barnes has offered to assist the police with Harold’s computer. Our theory is that he finally figured out his girlfriend was the one stealing from his company. We believe she was using the computer on his yacht.”

“Any chance of recovering the money?”

“Too soon to say.”

“If it can be done, you’re just the detective to do it,” Jim said loyally. “I, um, hear you have a guest staying with you for the next week.”

“Guest?” Trixie snorted. “If you count one of my brothers as a guest, then yes. He rushed out first thing this morning to have breakfast with his old medical school professor. It seems they had an appointment to discuss the fellowship that Brian’s going to be joining in June.”

“I guess you can take the doctor out of the hospital, but you can’t take the medical out of the doctor,” Jim joked.

Trixie was quiet.

“Hey, my joke wasn’t that lame, was it?” Jim finally asked, breaking the growing silence.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she asked softly. “You knew Honey and Brian weren’t coming back to New York this summer.”

“Brian talked to me about when the school will open,” Jim admitted. “We’ve had several discussions about his role at the school, the clinic setup, and how he’d like to see things run.” Jim paused. “You’re not upset, are you?”

“Noooo ...” she answered slowly. “Just surprised you didn’t mention it.”

“Trix.” Jim’s frustration was clear. If Trixie closed her eyes, she could see him pushing a freckled hand through his ruddy hair. “It’s not that I didn’t want to mention it, but the conversation was private between Brian and me. Almost like an employer and employee. It wouldn’t have been right for me to tell you. Especially, when Brian wasn’t even sure it was what he was going to do.”

“I understand,” she admitted reluctantly. “It’s like we said that night at my apartment. Some things we don’t tell each other aren’t our secrets.”

“Exactly!” Jim agreed. “But speaking of secrets …”

Trixie felt her heart move to her throat. He knows! She gulped hard, to swallow the lump. He knows the truth.

“I need your help to keep a secret from Dad for at least the next week.”

“Your dad?” Trixie echoed.

“Yeah. You know how the name of the school is a secret, right?

“Yes.” Trixie couldn’t stop wondering where Jim was going.

“And you remember how I told you that Mike and I’ve been working on this big presentation of the school to show everyone at the fundraiser, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, for us to finish the presentation I’m going to have to tell Mike the name of the school. We have to get it incorporated into the SMARTSchool files and throughout the presentation. Normally, we would just work here at Wheeler International, but then there’s a chance that Dad could interrupt at an, um, inopportune moment. I was hoping you’d let us come work there, at your office. I know you have the empty office for Honey. If that’s not a good place, we could use one of your conference rooms.”

“Oh!” Trixie’s relief was acute. “Of course you can work here. Honey’s office would be ideal. Just tell me when and we’ll have everything ready for you.”

“You won’t need to get anything ready. All we need are a couple of chairs and a place to work with a handy electrical outlet and internet access. Mike has this souped-up, ultra secure laptop and I have all the Frayler files on my flash drive.” Jim paused for a moment. “We were hoping, Mike and me, that you might be able to meet us for lunch? Our treat.”

Trixie shook her head. “I can’t do lunch today, Jim,” she apologized. “There’s just too much going on here.”

“Well, perhaps dinner tonight,” Jim suggested. “We could ask Brian to join us.”

“Can I let you know? I don’t want to cancel on you if it turns out that I’ve got to put in some extra time tonight.”

“Sure thing. Keep us in mind for dinner and we’ll see you right after lunch.”

“Thanks, Jim. Will do.”

Trixie methodically disconnected the phone, letting it rest in her hand as she mulled over the conversation with Jim. Something was off. If she didn’t know him any better, she’d have sworn he was hiding something from her. Shaking her head, she returned the handset to the cradle and turned back to the case file notes in front of her. Once again, she began sifting through them, looking for the one clue that would connect all the details together in an order that made sense.

 

 

The offices of Langham Industries seemed different to Trixie. While the atmosphere was somber, she noticed a difference since her last visit. Looking around, she realized that things had been rearranged. The employees had been consolidated into half the space, and the unused space had been closed off. It was more compact, but looked decidedly more prosperous. Trixie wondered if Tammy or Henry had been responsible for the changes. Harold’s office remained empty. Henry Scheuer was running the day-to-day operations from his own office, but Harold’s blue-haired secretary, Edith Farrow. seemed reluctant to move closer to Henry’s office. Today, Trixie’s focus was riveted on Edith.

Harold’s secretary sat behind her desk as if in shock. Trixie did not find her assistance any more helpful now than it had been when Harold was present. Edith sniffed, dabbing her eyes with a dainty, embroidered handkerchief. “I’ve already told the police everything I know,” she wailed.

“Yes, of course you have.” Trixie dug deep for the right level of concern. “But we’re doing more than investigating Mr. Langham’s shooting. We’re also trying to locate and recover the money that’s been stolen from the company. Do you understand the difference?” Trixie paused and waited for Edith to acknowledge the statement. When she received a nod of affirmation, she continued. “Now you told Mrs. Langham that you had no idea who Mr. Langham’s current friend might be, correct?”

“That’s right.” Edith dabbed her eyes.

“But you also said she called him every day, at least twice a day. Usually around ten and then again at four.”

“Almost like clockwork,” the inconsolable secretary confirmed.

“Did you recognize her voice when she called?”

“Yes, of course. It was part of my job to greet the callers by name. Especially the customers.”

“How did you greet her?”

“She always told me to tell him Bette was calling. From the very first time, she called. She said, ‘Oh, just tell him it’s Bette, he’ll know who it is.’ And after the first few times that’s how I greeted her.”

“Did he buy the yacht after he became involved with her?” Trixie suspected the elegant boat named Lillibet was named for the woman.

“She sold him the yacht,” Edith answered. “That’s how they met each other. That first time when I was reluctant to put her through to him, she told me it was about the yacht he was buying from her.”

Trixie frowned. “You’re certain that she said he was buying it from her and not for her.”

“Of course, I’m certain.”

“Earlier you suggested to the police that he bought the yacht to have a place for his assignations with this young woman.”

Edith frowned. “It’s hard to know which came first. It all happened so fast. I was just certain that Mr. Langham was through with all that nonsense with young girls. A week or so after she called the first time, he told me to put Bette through immediately, no matter what. Then about a month later, he was having me draw checks against his discretionary budget.”

Trixie perked up. “Who were the checks made out too? Bette?”

“No, some realty company, I believe. I can look it up for you, if it’s important.”

“Didn’t you mention this to the police?” Trixie asked.

“No, they didn’t ask me who sold him the yacht. They were more interested in confirming an alibi for Mr. Scheuer and Mrs. Langham. They were both here all morning that day. That was why Mr. Langham left the office to go work on the yacht. He said they wouldn’t leave him alone, badgering him about different things in the accounts. He said he needed peace and quiet to think.”

Trixie bit her lip and mused over the revelations she had just received. “Mrs. Farrow, are you able to get me a copy of those cancelled checks Mr. Langham had you draw? If not, I can ask Mr. Scheuer’s secretary to find them.”

“Of course I can get you the information,” Edith sniffed. “But do you need an actual copy of the cancelled check?” she asked doubtfully. “We haven’t received a cancelled check from the bank in years.”

“Are they available online for review?” Trixie asked hopefully.

Edith shook her head. “No, we rarely need a copy; it wasn’t worth the service fee. I’ll get you copies today.” She picked up a pen and scribbled a note in shorthand on her steno pad. Trixie smiled. Shorthand was still taught to many agents as an elective. Some were even able to use it as their foreign language credit, like American Sign Language. She herself, had been known to still scribble a note or two in front of people using the old acrobat alphabet for privacy. Agents were well versed in the use of coding messages without being obvious.

“Thank you. If you could have a courier deliver copies to my office this afternoon, it would be very helpful.” Trixie paused and made sure the secretary had finished making notes. “Did the police ask you about phone records?”

“Yes. They indicated they could get those without any assistance from us. Although it’s really very easy, since our phone system automatically maintains a log of all calls received through the IT department.”

Trixie smiled. “Would you mind sending me those logs since the first of the year as well? It would be helpful. Now, is there anything else you can think of? Bette didn’t call here yesterday, did she?”

“No, it’s been several days since she’s called here.” Edith Farrow stopped and frowned. “You know, now that I think of it, I don’t think she’s called since that week you and that young man were here auditing our systems and records.”

 

 

Sean despised waiting. If it was possible, he was probably more impatient that his current boss, but waiting was the biggest waste of time he could imagine. Being left to cool his heels in the offices of B3 Software was doing nothing to improve his attitude. But he had wanted another attempt to question Chris Williams. While he personally found the woman fascinating, he wasn’t ready to accept her innocence in this case. He’d continued to tweak and refine the program he was developing after hours to run probabilities on the suspects. With the latest revisions, Emily Christine Williams was the most likely suspect, coming in at over sixty percent. He continued to maintain to Trixie she was hiding something, and Trixie had agreed to allow him to meet with Chris.

A faint buzzer sounded and the next sound was Janiece’s voice, piping up that he could go in now, Ms. Williams was ready to see him.

He practically leapt at the closed door, jerking it open and striding in. He longed to pull out his federal agent credentials and flash them in her face; instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and glared. “Thank you for making time for me this morning, Ms. Williams.”

Calm and apparently unruffled, she nodded to him. “Our instructions from Reid are to continue to cooperate with the Belden-Wheeler Agency. There is to be nothing held back.”

“Yeah, well, let’s you and I be honest with each other,” he taunted. “We both know that if there was any computer evidence incriminating you or anyone else, you’d have already buried it so deep that not even Bill Gates would be able to find it.”

Chris shrugged. “Yes, you’re probably right. However, there’s something you need to know about me right now. I don’t have anything to hide. Not from you, not from Reid, not from the feds, not from anyone, anywhere, any way, anyhow. Got it?”

The stare down began.

To his surprise, Sean was the first to look away. “Tell me why you don’t like Madji Farsi.”

Chris laughed. “Who said that I didn’t like Madji Farsi? I’ve known him for years. In fact, I’m the one who recommended that Reid hire him.”

“You didn’t have to tell me,” he said. “I could tell you resent him and his ability. He’s better than you, isn’t he?”

Chris laughed. Long and hard. She laughed until tears ran down her face. Finally snatching a tissue off Reid’s credenza, she stood up and motioned Sean towards the comfortable chairs in the sitting area of the office. “I can’t tell you the last time I had a laugh that good,” she assured him. “Can I get you some coffee? Consider it a reward for a good joke.”

The woman is a mystery , Sean decided. He shrugged and moved to sit in the chair she had indicated. “Sure. Why not?”

Several minutes later the two of them were ensconced in comfortable chairs, sipping hot fragrant coffee. She had loaded hers with cream and several packets of sugar, while he kept his black and unadorned. “How did you get involved with B3?” Sean asked, working his suspect by switching from his initial hostile questioning to a more casual, sociable approach.

“A better question would be why I wasn’t there in the beginning?” She smiled. “It was destiny. Reid, Ted, and I attended good old PS430, Brooklyn Technical High School. It was a haven for a geeky nerd girl like me. “

“Did you know Madji then?”

“No. Madji came later. We, well, actually it was me, met Madji at MIT.” She paused. “He was in some of my classes. We worked on a project together.”

“You don’t remember the first time you met him?” Sean asked, taking a sip of the rich, dark-roasted brew.

Chris chewed her bottom lip as her finger tabbed the side of her mug. “Not really. It’s been a while. He was ahead of me in school, but I was Speedy Gonzales. I wanted to finish quickly and actually ended up graduating before him. Reid had the idea for this business when we were still in high school. Most of us at Brooklyn Tech received scholarships, but everyone had a different plan about what to do next. I honestly thought Reid or Ted, or both of them, would follow me to MIT. We were loathe to break up the high school gang, but financially, I didn’t have a choice. I hauled my butt to MIT on a full-ride scholarship.” She quirked a questioning brow at him. “Not everyone involved in the company had the luxury of financial security. Reid didn’t until he married Allison; although he’d never touch her money, it would’ve been there if he needed it. Ted’s family was definitely upper middle class. But they still picked NYU …” She shrugged. “I guess you’d have to ask them why.”

“You graduated and joined B3 when it was still a rough start-up. How much money did they pay you?”

“The bare minimum you can survive on in a New York,” she smiled. “Plus a transit pass. The rest was paid to me in shares of stock.”

“Someone like you probably would’ve had their choice of job offers.”

“Sure, but I wanted freedom to do what I wanted. So I turned them all down, and took the crappiest job of them all – working for B3.”

“Why?”

Chris tilted her head to one side and studied Sean. It was clear she was giving her answer some careful thought. Finally, she spoke in a slow, but steady voice. “The other jobs would’ve had rules.” She gave a tentative smile. “Sure it would’ve meant more money, especially at first,” she paused and shook her head, “but I don’t think anyone could argue today that I made the wrong choice. Reid and Ted will be the first ones to tell you that I don’t like rules. People telling me what to wear to work, when to show up, when to leave, when to go to lunch …” she shuddered. “That’s just not my thing. Reid and Ted got that about me, and they were willing to give me a chance. I don’t think either of them will ever say that they didn’t get their money’s worth.”

“I noticed that Madji is listed on several patents with you. In Belden’s case notes she wrote that Madji told her he was one of the founders. Do you know why he would tell people he was a company founder? I mean, what’s up with that?”

Chris shrugged. “You’d have to ask Madji.”

“Are you sure that you’re not jealous?” Sean leaned back to watch her reaction.

“Jealous of Madji? Oh, please!” She rolled her eyes. “What’s he got that I haven’t got besides a pe --”

Sean held up his hand to stop her. “I get that. Seriously, though. You don’t seem to give him much credit.”

She frowned as she sat her coffee on the short table between them. She leaned forward and caught his eye. “You see, the thing is, I do give Madji credit. He knows how to write code a certain way, and he can make things happen in software that many developers can’t. He can do it efficiently, and without extra subroutines. Madji and I work very well together and we have for years. But he likes to … preen. If he writes a tricky bit of code, or an especially difficult function, he has to stop. First, he’ll demo it to Ted and Andy. Then, he’ll ask to meet with Reid and tell him about it. Once he feels like he’s been sufficiently praised, he’ll go back to his desk and do it all again. But then he wasted a day, day and a half of time, with his silly show and tell games.”

“Why don’t they tell him to quit wasting their time?”

“Because then he’ll sulk. For days.” Chris made an L with her thumb and forefinger and held up to indicate her impression of Madji’s behavior. “There comes a time when you realize that good employees have certain, um, peccadilloes that you’re willing to overlook because of their contribution to the company as a whole.”

“Did B3 make Madji rich?”

Chris frowned. “I don’t know.” She stopped at Sean’s surprised expression. “Really, I don’t know. Madji doesn’t work for me. He hasn’t for years and he certainly didn’t work for me when –” She stopped and took a breath. “As a long time employee of B3, he would qualify for many incentives and perks the company has to offer. I know that he took his yearlong sabbatical about five years ago. He should be quite comfortable. As for rich, he has an adoring wife and three kids. That’s hard to top.”

Sean noted the flash of pain on Chris’s face. “Do you think Allison Beckhart was guilty of sabotaging the systems at B3?”

The pain disappeared and was replaced with a look of surprise. “It was her login credentials. The IP address was the computer in her office.” She shrugged. “Does it really matter, now? She’s gone.”

“It matters.”

“Why?”

Sean was quiet. He realized his answer would either guarantee Chris’s help or isolate her. Besides Reid, she and Madji were the only ones who could find out the truth. “Because Reid needs to know the truth. He’s not just suffering a loss. He’s suffering from a betrayal. And if she did it, she had a reason. That reason is still out there.”

“You want me to dig, don’t you?”

Sean nodded. “I’m told you’re the only one who can uncover the truth.”

She stood up. He stood as well, realizing she was dismissing him.

“I’ll have to let you know.”