The Mourning Mail (FINAL)

Chapter 29

Our server had been hanging back, waiting for a break in a conversation that she could see had become intense. She asked us if we needed anything, and after we both declined, she refilled our water glasses and moved on to other customers.

Having silently agreed to disagree, Marci and I regrouped. I still thought giving her what I knew about the crimes was the shortest distance between them and justice. And she knew she couldn't just walk away—no pun intended.

Marci again rearranged her bum leg on the cushion, her facial expression softening. "Our friendship is important to me, Debra Ann, and I'm willing to go out on a limb here because of it. But I need you to understand this is my job at stake. If my superiors perceive anything I say or do as deliberately dishonest, that's it. End of my career. And if they wanted to push it, they could charge me with impeding an investigation."

Again, I flushed, feeling badly about having put my friend in a difficult situation.

Marci paused for a moment. Then she went on, "Here's my proposal—I have to present these letters to my bosses. I'll tell them you were busy with your freelancing opportunities, that you didn't get to read through what you'd gathered until just recently. As soon as you realized what you had, you contacted me. You spent the time in between texting me and this lunch researching Ainsworth and Seaver. Are you comfortable with that?"

I understood that stretching the truth could put her career at risk. It meant a lot that she would do that for me, even as I sought to satisfy the needs of my own career. "Thanks, Marci. I appreciate it. That should work for everyone." I felt I owed her something more. "And if anyone has a problem with that version, I'll 'fess up and say you were just telling them what I told you."

This got a nod and a small smile from her. "Cross your fingers that Ainsworth confesses to the Cantor and Pierce killings, and then flips on the former doctor and his girlfriend," Marci said. "That would render all this moot, anyway. The detectives still haven't located him for questioning about the Cantor murder, but we'll get him.

"Glad you came to me before you took it any further, Debra Ann. Seaver, Ainsworth, and their crew are real rat bastards, worst of the worst. They wouldn't hesitate to kill someone else with the stakes in the millions of dollars. For your safety, Debra Ann, you need to stay away from this in the future and let us do our thing from here on out. I'll keep you posted on whatever transpires from this point."

"I understand. I'll be a good girl, I promise," I said.

Something told me not to share my little encounter with Seaver and his henchmen just now. My credibility was already on the line, and Marci might not find my yanking Seaver's chain too smart. I'd feel better if we parted on good terms.

So, we finished our meals, and I paid the check. Before we split to go to our separate cars, we hugged as best we could around her crutches. Marci agreed to contact me in the next few days to give me a progress report.

When I got to my car, a black Transit van had parked too close to my driver's side door. I had to squish myself flat to get in, saying unladylike things as I did. But even with that hassle, once I was in my seat, rearranged my clothes, and punched the button to start my car, I had a random thought that made me smile broadly. With Marci's support, the long-awaited day would soon come when I, and the entire world, would see the sneer wiped off James Seaver's face.

That imagery alone was worth getting chewed out a little over lunch, and I could hardly wait for things to develop over the next few days.