It would be close, but eleven o’clock might just give us enough time.

I suggested to Ralph that we find out what we could from Mr. Sabian and then go have a chat with the senator.

“You read my mind, bro.”

++++

Christie checked her messages and saw a text from Pat regarding the status of his friend Calvin Werjonic. Pat noted that Calvin would be glad to see her, if she had the chance to get over there.

He suggested she might swing by at lunch, and if she had a productive morning, that just might work.

If she could take an early lunch, depending on how the subway lines were running, she could probably make it to the hospital by noon.

65

When Timothy Sabian opened the door, Ralph and I identified ourselves as federal agents, and then, without missing a beat, Ralph said, “Mr. Sabian, do you mind if we come in?”

But even as he was asking the question, he was moving forward and, though Timothy didn’t look very excited about us joining him inside the house, he appeared even less excited about getting on Ralph’s bad side, and he mumbled, “I’d rath—um. Sure.”

He stepped back, and we entered the living room.

The house smelled of disinfectant.

Ralph wrinkled up his nose. “Doing a little cleaning?”

“Cleaning?”

“Smells like a hospital in here.”

“Oh. Yes. The bathroom. You have to take care of things every once in a while or they get out of hand.”

“Right,” Ralph replied slowly.

“Did you have a good book signing last night?” I said. I decided not to mention that my stepdaughter had been there.

Timothy eyed me carefully. “Yes . . . how did . . . ? How can I help you two gentlemen?”

“We’re looking for a woman who might have attended it.”

His face blanched. “Did something happen to her?”

“To who?” I said.

“The woman. The one at the signing.”

“And which woman would that be?” Ralph asked.

“I didn’t do anything. I swear. She just burst in and started yelling those things.”

Ralph and I exchanged a look, and then I said, “What, exactly, did she yell?”

“That I hurt her daughter. But I didn’t.”

I eyed him quizzically. We had no knowledge that Julianne Springman had any children. “Her daughter?”

Ralph pulled out his phone and scrolled to a photo of Julianne, which he showed to Timothy. “Is this the woman who was yelling those things?”

When Timothy saw the photograph, he swallowed and almost imperceptibly edged away from us.

“Are you alright, Mr. Sabian?” I asked.

“Maybe you should go.”

“Do you know this woman?” I pressed him. “From the book signing or not—have you ever seen her before?”

++++

Timothy heard the voice.

These men are here for a reason. Something led them here. Don’t deny meeting Julianne or they’ll know you’re lying.