“In the cabinet.”
“Are you really all right? Amy thinks you’re still in what she calls a condition called ‘grief shock.’”
“Amy’s a nice girl,” Matt said, gently mocking. “But what I’m in is a condition called ‘Oh, what a sonofabitch you are, Matt Payne.’”
“I told you, what Penny did to herself wasn’t your fault.”
“Somebody came to see me last night,” Matt said. “To comfort me in my condition of grief shock.”
“Somebody, I gather from the tone of your voice, female. And?”
“She comforted me,” Matt said.
Wohl looked at him to make sure he had correctly interpreted what he had said.
“Who?”
“I don’t think I want to tell you.”
“Nice kind of girl, or the other?”
“Very nice kind of girl.”
“Good for you,” Wohl said. “But I don’t think I’d tell Amy.”
“I’ve been trying to wallow in guilt, but I don’t seem to be able to.”
“What’s in it for the girl?”
“I just think she was being nice. Maybe a little more.”
“The one from New York? Amanda, something like that?”
“Jesus Christ!”
“I saw her looking at you at Martha Peebles’s.”
“I didn’t see her at Martha Peebles’s.”
“I repeat, good for you, Matt. Don’t wallow in guilt.”
The door buzzer sounded.
Matt looked surprised.
“Detective McFadden, I’ll bet,” Wohl said. “Here to comfort you in your condition of grief shock, with firm orders to keep you off the sauce.”
“You really do take care of me, don’t you?” Matt asked.
“Somebody has to, or the first thing you know, you’re crawling around on a ledge like an orangutan.”
“Thank you, Peter,” Matt said, pushing the button to open the door, and walked to the head of the stairs.
It was, instead of Detective McFadden, Detective Milham.
“You’re up, I hope?” Milham asked. “I know I said ten…”
“Having breakfast. Come on up.”