Page 108 of One Wrong Move
Deckard looked at Harper, and she nodded. A man who knew he was going to lose his job would be an easy mark for someone’s bidding if promised a massive promotion in place of the boss who was firing him.
Finishing up their interview with Greg, Deckard followed Harper down the hall, adjusting the Dockers and tugging at the infernal tie.
She looked over her shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I look and feel ridiculous,” he said.
“I think you look handsome,” she said, adjusting his tie. “Oh...”She straightened. “Here comes Pam. The other analyst on shift that night.”
“Great.”
“Hi, Pam,” Harper said. “We were just coming to see you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. We need to talk with you.”
Pam’s gaze darted between them, then landed on Deckard. Her skin paled. “I recognize you.”
FIFTY
DECKARD ANDHARPER SAT DOWNin the lounge with Pam Whitmore.
“I left you a message yesterday,” Deckard said.
Pam pulled her lab coat tighter about her. “It was a busy day. I didn’t have time to return the call. Besides, why do you need to talk to me again?”
It’d been a bit, but he’d recognized the severe angle of her haircut and thin brown eyes.
“We’re looking at the night of Anne Marlowe’s murder again,” he began. “Can you tell me what you recall about that night?”
“Wait.” Pam’s gaze narrowed, her brown eyes fixed on Harper. “Why areyoulooking into Anne’s murder? Oh...” She leaned her head back with a knowing smile—thin as her lips were. “You’re trying to prove Miranda didn’t mess up, aren’t you.”
“Yes.”
“Does Greg know you’re doing this?” Pam asked.
“Yes. He gave us permission to investigate here.”
“Well, I don’t have anything to say.” She moved to get up.
“That’s rather harsh, considering you worked with Miranda for several years,” Harper said.
“I’m sorry.” Pam stood, wrapping her arms tightly about herself. “I just don’t want to get involved, and I don’t understand why he”—shestared at Deckard—“is working with you. He works for Mitch Abrams.”
“Worked,” Deckard clarified. “I’m now working for Miranda.”
Pam squeezed her arms tighter about her waist. “That’s an interesting turn of events.”
Deckard gave a nod. “You could say so.”
Pam hesitated.
“Please, Pam,” Harper said, her voice strained. “What if the roles were reversed? You really think Miranda wouldn’t try to help you?”
Pam’s jaw shifted, her leg bouncing so much Deckard feared her heel would fly off and nail him in the face.
“Just a couple questions,” he said.
