I spent my lunch easing my hangover with ice-cold highballs, jotting out drafts of my pitch to Carrigan and trying not to consider MacLeish’s offer, what that would mean. It would mean the end of my debt to the Lady, for one. I doodled as I drank, thinking.

Even if I was considering MacLeish’s offer, I didn’t have much to give him. No name, no address, nothing he could use. And I knew better than to think it would be as easy as showing up at the station, announcing that I had a lead for him. Surefire way to end up handcuffed.

But it didn’t matter. Because I wasn’t going to betray Lou, and that’s what this would amount to. I couldn’t leave Lou behind. And I knew she’d never leave the Lady willingly. But fifteen grand on top of the eleven that I owed the Lady—even if it all went smoothly with Carrigan, it was a big chunk of change I’d be sacrificing. That did sting. And between the debt and the murder, there was so much about me the Lady knew, while I knew nothing. Even if I’d never give the information to MacLeish, it couldn’t hurt to have something about the Lady in my back pocket.

And, I realized, I did have something. I riffled through the pages on my desk, looking for the envelope with the blue fleur-de-lis where I’d written down the Lady’s license plate—the envelope Ellen had tossed aside to get to the bribe money. I tried to remember if I’d tossed it out with the rest of the things Ellen had touched, but I wasn’t sure—those days were a soggy blur. It wasn’t on my desk. I checked every drawer and even moved the desk a foot out to make sure it hadn’t slipped anywhere. No luck. My one concrete link to the Lady, vanished.

From my office, anyway. Maybe Lou had noticed the envelope floating around and pocketed it, one more sign of the Lady she swept away for safekeeping. Loyal Lou, who kept all the Lady’s secrets.

I walked to the front door and flipped the lock closed.

I stared at our three office doors. I could almost see the ghost of Ellen—had it been only a week ago?—outlined in my doorway, steeling her spine to face me and make her demands. Patting down her fluffy blonde hair with one hand while she rapped on my door with the other. Thinking about myself at that moment, how the only thing I’d wanted was to prove to the Lady—to Lou—that I was good at my job, good enough to be let in on all the little secrets they held so close between the two of them.

Well, Ellen, back then neither one of us knew we’d turn out to be murderers, did we?