The Girl in the Green Raincoat_ A Novel - Laura Lippman [41]
“A baby in a Snugli would be an excellent cover,” she said.
“Tess.” Crow was as angry and agitated as Tess had ever seen him. “I’ve never tried to tell you how to conduct your life. But your life isn’t strictly yours anymore. I’m not saying you can’t continue to work as an investigator. But you could go full-time for an insurance company, or a big law firm.”
“What about you, then?” she countered. “Do you think managing a club is a suitable job for a man with a young child? On a typical workday, you head out at five p.m. and come home at four in the morning. You work most of the weekend. What changes are you prepared to make?”
“Fact is, I’m thinking of going back to school, part-time, get one of those weekend MBAs.”
Tess almost burst into tears, and for once it wasn’t the hormones. Six years ago she had fallen in love with a man who was a musician and an artist, and now he was talking about MBAs?
“No,” she said. “That’s not you. But what you’re talking about—that’s not me. An office, working for other people. That’s the one thing I can’t go back to. Once you’ve been your own boss, it’s impossible to go back.”
Her iPhone rang, the jangly tone assigned to Whitney. Crow recognized it, too. After all, he had programmed it.
“Go ahead, take it,” he said. “Whatever Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden are cooking up is far more important than the small matter of our future.”
Chapter 13
Whitney Talbot had always spoken her mind. Not because she was indifferent to the feelings of others—although, to be honest, that was a big factor—but because it was too much trouble keeping track of lies. Tell the truth and bear the consequences was Whitney’s motto. But now she found herself juggling two big lies. She was going on “dates” with Don Epstein, pretending to be a naïve Eastern Shore girl, estranged from her parents and with few financial resources.
And she was lying about those dates to her oldest friend, Tess Monaghan, who had no idea how much she was enjoying her assignment. Don Epstein was surprisingly good company, who suggested almost teenage activities for their evening together. Duckpin bowling, ice skating, even a ceili at a North Baltimore church. Whitney had always thought she would rather drive nails into her eyes then attempt Irish dancing, but Epstein made her feel utterly unself-conscious. Having come into this world exceedingly self-conscious, that was no small thing.
He also was, to use one of her mother’s outmoded words, a gentleman. True, her mother would be appalled by him, but that would be based on appearances and her mother’s idea of status. Don Epstein dressed atrociously, in a style Whitney thought of as Bad Florida. Bright patterned shirts worn untucked, slip-on loafers in sherbety colors. And the jewelry! Epstein wore two large rings, not counting his wedding ring, an ID bracelet, and occasionally a gold chain around his neck. Whitney wondered if there was a polite way to tell him about the etiquette rule that dictated a woman should put on all the jewelry she intends to wear, then remove one piece before leaving the house. Maybe two pieces, in his case.
But she had bigger fish to fry than his wardrobe. She was supposed to get into his house, begin poking around. She had worried, at first, that Epstein would rush their courtship. Now she was worried by its low-key platonic nature. To keep the lie of her identity going, she instructed him to pick her up in the lobby of the Ambassador, an old apartment building on the city’s North Side. He returned her there each evening, walking her to the elevator. But he never asked to come up, or tried to kiss her. A relief at first, then a worry. Did he think of her as a sister? Did he not find her attractive?
It took three dates before he began to confide in her. “I hate talking about this,” he began, over dinner at Cantler’s, a much beloved but out-of-the-way restaurant near Annapolis, the kind of place no one ever found by accident. Epstein preferred out-of-the-way places, Whitney was beginning to notice.
“I admit,” she said, “I Googled