“Would you do something for me?”

“You name it, Lil.”

“Would you get me some chocolates from MarieBelle? I don’t know why, but suddenly I’ve got such a craving for them.” I sat with my chin resting in my palm, absently staring into space.

“Want me to get them now?”

I looked at my watch. “You can shower and be there when they open.”

“What are you going to do?” His eyes were sad and his face was drawn.

“You look worried.”

“I just don’t think you should drink any more right now,” he said softly.

“I won’t.”

“You promise? No drinking today.”

He was like a terrier. “I promise.”

“Good to have some rules,” he said, standing and kissing the top of my head before he left the kitchen. I waited until I heard him turn on the shower to get up. His carry-on bag was still in the hallway, not yet unpacked. I opened it and took out the gun, made sure the safety was on, and dropped it into my purse. Then I put on my coat and left the apartment, closing the door behind me with the quietest click I could manage.

CHAPTER 39

I stared up at the apartment building from the street, thinking about how many times I’d been there over the years. The Dakota was a landmark, notorious as the setting of John Lennon’s murder, but a work of beauty. It was light enough now that the gas lamps had been turned off. Often I’d thought of the irony of Martin building shiny eyesores but choosing to live in historic splendor. Inside the opulent lobby, I asked the doorman to tell Mr. Sklar that Lily Moore was visiting. “Go on up, miss,” the doorman told me as he put the phone down.

I took the elevator to the eighth floor. The hallway had been redone since I’d last visited. The Dakota was crazy about upkeep, Martin had told me that. They were always touching up, not only repairing flaws but filling in before any could be spotted. Martin opened the door before I got to it.