“Callie, you discovered Mr. Smythe’s body, didn’t you?” Tina whispered, and then I could see her jump as Beth must’ve kicked her under the table.

“It’s okay,” I said, pulling a sandwich out of my bag. It looked like tuna on whole wheat with lettuce. “I didn’t know Mr. Smythe personally, so it wasn’t quite as awful for me as it would’ve been for one of you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

They had a few questions about the whole incident, and I spoke freely, trying to give the impression that I was just a regular gal, warm and friendly, ready to chat about anything and everything. What I got from them wasn’t much: It was a pretty good place to work, management was okay (with a few exceptions), and Wendell Smythe had been a beloved boss and friend.

“I hope they let us all off work for his funeral,” Tina said, “because I know everyone’s going to want to go and pay their last respects.”

“So were a lot of people close to Mr. Smythe?” I asked.

“We all respected him, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean, whom did he confide in? Who were his closest associates?”

Beth shrugged, and for a moment I was afraid I had crossed the line with my questions. But they didn’t seem suspicious, only thoughtful.

“Besides his wife and kids, you mean?”

“Yes.”

The two women looked at each other.

“His secretary, Gwen,” Beth answered, and Tina nodded in agreement. “She’s been with him for, like, a hundred years.”

After lunch, I stepped into Gwen’s office. A brief flash of déjà vu brought me back to the day before when I first came into this room, seeing her behind the desk in her beige suit and pearl earrings, talking on the phone. Now the desk was empty, the office oddly silent.

I decided Gwen must’ve taken the day off—not that I could blame her. Yesterday had been incredibly traumatic for her; seeing her dead boss was more than the woman had been able to handle.

I thought I might take another peek around Wendell’s office, but a quick turn of the knob told me that this time it was locked. I jiggled the handle to no avail, but then suddenly the door swung open from the inside, and I found myself face-to-face with Gwen. She looked much different than she had the day before. Now, instead of a suit, she had on jeans and a light yellow sweatshirt. Her hair was a mess, and her face was pale without makeup.

“Callie!” she said, startled. “Goodness. I didn’t know who that was, trying to get in. What are you doing here?”

“I was just looking for you,” I said quickly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”