?We turned down 58th Stre
et and walked the long block between Tenth and Ninth Avenues.
?“You can hardly blame him,” Sheryl went on. “About twenty percent of all murders are committed by a spouse or family member.”
?“That high?” I said as we walked along.
?“Yes. So naturally that makes me a prime suspect. And with our relationship—”
?“We have a relationship?”
?Sheryl flushed and looked away. “You know what I mean.”
?I stopped walking and turned to her. Even though she was three inches taller than me, I took her hands and looked up into her emerald-green eyes. “Not really. What do you think it means?”
?Sheryl glanced around uncomfortably. “Mark, this isn’t the time or the place.”
?“There hasn’t been a good time or place since I met you. I mean, the other night when I saw you in Susie’s nightgown. My God, you were so beautiful.”
?“A smart man might’ve made a move,” she grumbled.
?“I didn’t know if it would be welcomed.”
?Her eyes met mine. “I have to admit I have concerns…”
?“It’s the age difference, isn’t it?”
?“I don’t know. Possibly. Or my own doubts. Honestly, Mark, you bring up feelings I haven’t had in years. Some of them I’ve never had before.”
?“Really.” I couldn’t help but smile.
?A flash of anger traveled through her eyes. “You think it’s funny?”
?“Not in the least,” I told her, and she calmed down. “I’ve experienced emotions I thought I wouldn’t ever feel again. I mean, after Susie died.”
?“That’s good, isn’t it?” She sounded unsure.
?“Very good. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”
?“Well, not to be under suspicion of murder would be a good start,” she effused, and still holding one of my hands, we began to walk again. “But once DeStadler sees the pipe, and the flash drive in it—”
?“Still doesn’t explain how my fingerprints got on the pipe at Randall’s.”
?“Technically, all anyone had to do was place a similar pipe in your hand, even when you were unconscious, to get your prints on it.”
?“So, you’re suggesting this might not help us at all,” I sighed.
?“Perhaps this will motivate him to look at other people. Maybe he’ll even check up on Norm Blake,” Sheryl mused. “Y’know, I did see his assistant, Cliff, as we headed down the escalator.”
?I turned and faced her. “Really? What do you suppose he was doing near the ballroom?”
?Sheryl shrugged. “In that crowd, I only noticed him because of his height.”
?“It was also weird running into John Stewart in the ballroom,” I added as we started to walk again.
?“It was almost as if he knew we would be there,” Sheryl said.
?We turned the corner at Ninth Avenue and started to head downtown. It was now early afternoon, and the day had grown warm. It was a lovely spring day in New York with temperatures warm enough so you didn’t feel cold, but cool enough that a sports coat didn’t make you sweat.