I can tell she wants to correct the can with a may—but only because I knew Seb long enough to pinpoint these types. Not only is she a journalist, she was also a copy editor for some time. Language is her trade, and the only way to get her attention is to use it very well or poorly.

Poorly wins out. She waves me inside. “Sure, yes. I could use a break, anyway.”

There’s another woman at the dining room table, with papers spread about her. “This is my wife, Celine,” Krista says. “Celine, this is Nora Watts. She’s a friend of Sebastian Crow’s.”

“The journalist whose funeral you attended? I remember. Nice to meet you, Nora,” says Celine, in a Parisian French accent. She’s an extremely tall woman, even sitting down. When we shake hands, hers almost engulfs mine.

“I didn’t see you at Sebastian’s funeral,” Krista says.

“I was out of town when he passed. I couldn’t get back in time.”

“What’s wrong with your voice?”

“Okay, that’s my cue,” says Celine, unfolding her long limbs. “Krista is in her grilling mood again. A bientôt, Nora.” She leaves the room. We hear her on the stairs and a door upstairs shut.

“About your voice?” Krista asks again.

“The effects of poor life choices.”

“I can see that. You always had a reckless quality about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just an impression. There’s always been something unpredictable about you, I suppose.”

This gives me a pause. I’m a woman over twenty-five. I’m so used to people ignoring my existence that it’s startling when someone admits they’ve been paying attention. Then again, Krista Dennings is also a woman over twenty-five. Maybe we’ve each been paying attention while the other isn’t looking.

“I need some information,” I say to her. I don’t tell her the full sad story because she’s heard hundreds of these before. I get to the point, which is something she appreciates.

She listens until I’m done, tapping a pencil against her chin every now and then. “Okay, so what you’re saying is you’re digging up info on Jimmy Fang? I did that for the better part of a decade. And I got a call about it a few weeks ago from a PI. Celine and I were on our honeymoon then, and I haven’t had a chance to call him back yet. A Bazucci or something? You know him?”

“Yes. Jon Brazuca. We work together sometimes. Most of the in-depth articles I’ve read about Jimmy Fang, the deep dives, had your byline.” It was something I noticed in Brazuca’s research. Krista’s name shining bright at the top of almost every article.