“The three of them were friends from seventh grade on.”

Decker said, “Do you think that if one of them were in trouble, the others might help him out?”

“Three Musketeers’ kind of crap?” Oliver said. “Maybe, although you have to wonder about loyalty when your friend is screwing your girlfriend.”

Marge said, “I’m wondering if Greg Reyburn made it onto Adrianna’s fuck list.”

“Don’t know because I didn’t ask him.”

“Is he still here?” Decker asked.

“No, he left an hour ago. I can ask him, but we know that Adrianna slept around and that Garth sleeps around. One more isn’t going to change the balance sheet.”

Marge said. “I was thinking that if his friends felt guilty about sleeping with Adrianna, they may have been willing to help him out with the body.”

“How would they help him out if they were miles away?” Oliver said.

“Maybe Aaron told Garth to dump the body at the Grossman house.”

“If Aaron was associated with the project, he’d have to know that it would come back to bite him in the butt.”

Marge said, “I don’t mean to cast aspersions on Mr. Otis, but he’s not exactly Harvard material. Maybe Garth called him up in a panic and Aaron gave him the first dump spot he could think of.”

Decker said, “Check out with Wald if Otis is associated with the job. When are you two going to St. Tim’s? You need to retrace Adrianna’s movements.”

“Next on the list,” Oliver said. “Right after a coffee break.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Marge said. “Help yourself to the machine, Scott.”

Oliver said, “Last time I tried, I burned my hand.”

“Practice makes perfect.” Marge stood up. “But I’ll show you one more time. Who woulda thunk a little machine could be so addictive?”

“It’s not an addiction, it’s a preference.”

“And so goes the denial until it’s a habit,” Marge said. “Maybe we should set up coffee rehab centers, guys. Who among us hasn’t had a caffeine headache? If people are willing to plunk down five bucks for something that cost about forty cents, we can sell them on the idea that they have an addiction that needs breaking. It’s all part of the modern philosophy of passing the buck. Take all of the credit but none of the personal responsibility.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

DECKER HAD HIS feet up on his desk. His door was closed and it was one of the few times he had allowed himself a breather. He needed to regroup after hanging up from an emotional call to Kathy Blanc. The desire to get a solve in a murder case was like a persistent itch he couldn’t scratch. Now he was on the phone with Eliza Slaughter and could barely make out her words.

“Where are you? I’m getting static on the line.”