I must have spoken aloud. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Penn, what’s the matter? You looked zoned out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. You look terrible.” She glances around the room, which is strewn with loose pages like leaves on a forest floor. “What happened in here? What are you looking for?”

“I already found it.”

“What?”

“Something personal. Nothing to do with our case.”

Caitlin goes to the table and picks up a few pages, straightens them into a stack, and sets them back down. Then she turns those remarkable green eyes on me and speaks in a voice raw with hurt. “It’s Livy Marston, isn’t it? Nothing else would get you so worked up.”

“It has to do with Livy, yes.”

“You can’t tell me what it is?”

“Not yet. Not until I know something for sure. Right now I need a telephone.”

She waves her hand with disgust. “Take any one you want.”

“It has to be private.”

“You can use my office.” There is something like pity in her eyes.

She escorts me through the newsroom, shrugging at Kelly on the way. As soon as she shuts the door behind me, I dial Tuscany. Thankfully, Livy answers.

“This is Penn.”

“What do you want?”

“We need to talk.”

“You haven’t thought so for the past three days.”

“I do now. It’s important.”

“Important.” There’s a long pause, but I don’t jump to fill it. “All right,” she says finally. “Where?”

I close my eyes. “I haven’t eaten. I was thinking of getting a bite at Biscuits and Blues. That sound okay to you?”

Silence.

“Livy?”

“I’m not really hungry.”

“You could watch me eat,” I say, pushing it.

“Why don’t we take a ride instead? It’s nice outside.”

Sure, and why don’t we ask our daughter to come along? “Is your father home?”

“No. He’s at his office with Blake Sims, preparing for the trial.”

“I’ll pick you up in five minutes.”

“Five minutes?”

“It’s important.”

“All right. I may look ghastly, but I’ll be waiting on the gallery.”

Livy Marston has never looked ghastly in her life. “Just have the gate open.”

I hang up and start through the newsroom, heading for the front of the building. Caitlin and Kelly are talking quietly in a corner. When she sees me, she breaks away from him and physically bars the door.

“Penn, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing to do with you. It’s personal.”

She looks around the newsroom and realizes that her employees are staring at her. Taking my wrist, she speaks in a quieter voice. “I consider your personal life personal to me.”