The Herd(59)

Daniel’s lips shook like he was either trying to speak or trying not to cry. Probably both. “We should tell the police. Right? This has gotta be our best lead.”

“It sure seems like it. God, this is wild.” I took the sheet and reread it. “I just wanna make sure…” I hesitated and my eyes filled with tears again.

“What is it?”

A little laugh. “Ugh, always the PR girl. So, Eleanor’s a public figure. I don’t want to see her name dragged through the mud—for your sake, not to mention Karen and Gary. Oh God. She couldn’t have had anything to do with this woman’s disappearance, right?”

He just kept shaking his head. He let out a horsey noise and dropped his brow into his hands.

“Do you want me to talk to Mikki?” I said.

He stood and walked out of the room. For a confused second, I thought he was ending the conversation, but then I heard the rush of liquid against glass and he reappeared with two waters.

“Hana, I’d give anything to know who killed her. This could help.”

“I would too.” I grabbed a glass. “But you said this came after she disappeared, yes? I know it’s upsetting, but…that means whoever sent this has no idea Eleanor’s gone.”

He sat and looked away, his chin trembling. “I don’t know, Hana. I can’t think straight.”

“How about this: I’ll ask Mikki if this means anything to her—maybe she knows something I don’t.” I set my glass down and leaned forward. “We’ll get through this, Daniel. I know how much you love Eleanor, and you know I feel the same way.”

He balled his hands against his eyes and nodded. “If she did something…bad, I don’t wanna know. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life thinking that about her.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s just…get through today. They’re gonna make an announcement soon, and I think the best thing to do is just batten down the hatches. Okay?” I sat up and spoke softly: “You know to just hang up if journalists get your number, right? And you should close all your curtains. They might set up out front.”

“I know. I’m not talking to anyone. I learned that a week ago when I basically had a gag order until they checked out my alibi.”

“So they did clear you.”

“Yeah, they talked to…the woman I was with. From Click. And I showed them the messages.” He looked away. “Talk about fucked-up timing.”

It popped out before I could think it through: “Well, unless Eleanor knew you were going to be gone that night.”

He rubbed his forehead. “And had chosen it as her night to fuck off to Mexico? Yeah, the cops mentioned that too. But the big announcement at Hielo. She seemed so excited. I don’t know.”

Your wife, I thought, was extremely skilled at keeping things from you. From all of us.

“Have the cops told you anything new?”

His eyes vaulted up and to the left. “Not a lot,” he admitted. “Last night they said it probably happened Monday night, based on what she was wearing.”

So after Mocktails. “At the Herd, then?”

“Yeah. They aren’t sure where in the building, though. There wasn’t enough…enough blood on the roof for it to have been there, so she was probably moved.” He cleared his throat, his voice shooting out in a loud clap. “If whoever did it couldn’t get her out, it was his best option because of the cold: no smell. The problem is that nobody knew the Herd was a crime scene—the entire office, I mean, the whole floor—so it’s all been compromised. The janitor’s been through a bunch of times since then, so finding clues or whatever is unlikely.”

“Shit.” I frowned. “Are they going to test for DNA?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. They want to search here again.” His voice cracked.

Jesus. They could be over any minute.

“If you’re okay, I think I’ll get going.” I pulled my coat on. Daniel didn’t move, his jaw resting in his palm, his eyes staring into the distance. “Let me know if you need anything. Memorial service, dealing with journalists—you name it. And obviously, don’t talk to anyone.” I finished zipping my coat and paused. “Basically, don’t trust anyone.”

I blinked into the late-morning sun and descended the subway steps. As I rumbled home, my brain hazed in and out of coherence. I kept picturing the slash I’d seen on Eleanor’s throat, a casual diagonal, like a finger mindlessly dragged across a fogged-up window. The murder weapon—no one had said anything about the murder weapon. My mind kept returning to the little knife she kept in her office. The only sharp object I could think of when I mentally wandered through the Herd.

I cried for a bit, my chest seizing with a fresh wave of horror. The other people in the subway car, two teenagers and an elderly woman, averted their eyes. Then another break in the fog: Those freaking surveillance cameras. Useless thanks to the router reset. Could someone from the internet provider try to recover the data? No, it wasn’t a technician from the company who came—it was Ted.

Ted.

The subway squealed to a stop; the doors clanged open and people trotted in and out.

Ted, who watched his beautiful best friend, the literal girl next door, date his brother and then go on to fame and fortune while he continued splitting a house in Bay Ridge with three roommates.