Liz said. “Could be. Would explain the hostility from her,” I said. “You were flat-out asking her if her dead husband had been sleeping with anybody behind her back,” Freddie said. “Be enough for most people to be hostile.” We were sitting in a booth of the Old Town Bar on Eighteenth Street. It was after eleven, and the place was quiet. “So we know he wasn’t using this phone for extracurriculars,” I said. “And Robbie says she’s certain he spoke to someone that night,” Liz said. “Someone we think he was going to meet at Thirty-fourth Street,” Freddie said. “And someone he was unthreatened by, being that he left the gun at home,” I said. “But without phone records it’s all guesswork,” Freddie said. And it was. But it felt like guessing was all we could do at the moment. I took a long pull on my Guinness and glanced at the TV above the bar. It was tuned to CNN. The host of the ten o’clock show was sitting in the studio interviewing some guy on a subject neither seemed to be excited about.
What do You think about Cold Open, A Sam North Mystery?
