He was sitting in a café a block away from the courthouse, waiting for Ellie Silvestri. He had not wanted to see her in Bernhardt’s office. He was hoping that, here, away from her memories of Spencer Duvall, she would talk about him openly. She hadn’t asked what he wanted to talk about, but he had the feeling she knew and even wanted to talk. Ellie was coming toward him, a blur of blue and white weaving through the lawyers and shoppers. He stood, pulling out a chair. Ellie sat down, setting her purse on her lap. “It was nice of you to come, Miss Silvestri,” Louis said. “You had me intrigued, Mr. Kincaid,” she said. “With all the stuff in the paper about the Kitty Jagger case, I don’t know what to think anymore.” Louis waved to the waiter. Ellie ordered an iced tea. “Why did you want to see me?” “My role in Spencer’s murder has changed since we last talked, Miss Silvestri. I’m not working on Spencer’s homicide anymore. I’m working for Scott Brenner.” Ellie drew in a deep, slow breath.
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