The Secrets She Buried (The Tony Valenti Thrillers Book 6) by Neil Turner

Author:Neil Turner [Turner, Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-02T16:00:00+00:00

26

September rolls around the following Thursday. I’m at my desk, feet up and gazing out my window at the morning, not quite twiddling my thumbs—but were I so inclined, there’s nothing to stop me from doing so. I swirl the last cold dregs of coffee in my mug and ponder a refill. Call Joan and ask? Get off my rear and go all the way out to the Mr. Coffee in reception? Hmm. I look around my office. Maybe I can squeeze one of those Keurig thingamajigs in here?

It's been a lazy week, an increasingly rare thing as our firm has grown its clientele, but it’s been a welcome development. The Liberty Street Seven—eight when Poppy is in town— squeezed in a band practice Tuesday night, and I’ve had plenty of time with Pat. Last night, during our fifth consecutive nightly sleepover at her place or mine, she lamented not having gotten Andrea’s contact information at the class reunion.

“This should be Andrea’s moment in the limelight,” Pat said. “Just like Babe Ruth or whatever baseball player pointed to a spot in the stands before swatting the next pitch out of the park to that exact spot. Andrea should know that she called the Valenti-O’Toole hook up.”

“Or you could just share our good news without all the hyperbole.”

“No-Fun Valenti,” she retorted with an eye roll. “How did I ever get involved with such a stick-in-the-mud?”

I wrestled her flat on the couch to distract her with a little hanky-panky before she had a chance to ponder the thought at length.

Penelope pulls me away from that pleasant memory by rapping on my door.

“I hate like heck to interrupt when you’ve got your nose to the grindstone like this, partner, but I was wondering if you’ve heard a peep from Dennis Wall.”

I shake my head no. “In fact, as you can see, I’m holding myself available in case he calls or drops by.”

She snorts. “Quick on your feet this morning, aren’t you?”

“Surprised?”

“A bit,” she replies with a wink and a grin. “Does this mean you were able to sneak in an hour or two of sleep last night?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Penelope turns her head toward Joan’s reception desk. “Did you hear that, Mom?”

“Hear what, honey?”

“Tony says he’s a gentleman.”

After a beat, Joan asks what’s up.

“I think he’s too embarrassed to admit he’s been up catting around every night this week, Mom. He’s giving me some line about gentlemen not kissing and telling.”

“There’s some truth in that,” Joan admits, “but there’s more to being a gentleman than just that.”

“Tough crowd,” I observe with a smile for Penelope. “Did you come all the way over here to ask about Wall, or was that just an excuse to yank my chain?”

She summons up one of her sweet Kansas smiles in return. “I don’t need an excuse, partner, but you pretty much nailed it.”

“Are you going to follow up with Wall or do you want me to?”

“Let’s wait until Monday,” she replies. “In the interests of maintaining law-office-to-law-office cordiality, I’ll make the call.

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