Page 25

"You have some time, Callie. I doubt his body will be released by the medical examiner's office for at least another day."
"They're doing an autopsy?"
"Yes."
"I thought he was pushed over the railing."
"That's still to be determined." He paused. "I also happened to notice a large binder containing information about Arthur's trust while I was looking through his study earlier. I suspect that has at least some of the information you need."
Flynn was being logical and pragmatic, and it actually helped cut through the tidal wave of feelings she'd been experiencing. "Of course. I'm sure all his wishes are outlined in great detail. Arthur never left anything up in the air. It's probably all in his study and very clearly marked. I should have thought about that before."
"Why don't we get out of here?"
She was more than a little happy to follow him out of the stifling, medicinal air of the hospital.
"I'll go with you to Arthur's house," Flynn said.
"So you can continue searching it?"
"Yes. I want to look in every room, every closet, every drawer. I want to sit down with you and go over every single person you can think of who has had any contact or business with Arthur, especially any women who might have had a personal relationship with him."
"That's a lot," she said, feeling the weight on her shoulders getting heavier again.
"The funeral can wait a few days, even a week. But we need to find Arthur's killer as fast as possible."
"All right." She didn't have the energy to fight him.
As they moved toward the parking lot, Flynn added, "Did Arthur ever mention Marcus Vitelli to you?"
"He's a young artist, right? I think Arthur bought one of his paintings. He said he was really good. He had a fresh perspective."
"That's Marcus. He exchanged quite a few calls with Arthur this past week. He said Arthur wanted to buy a painting from him, but it wasn't finished yet, and Arthur kept nagging him about it. He was practically begging him to finish."
She frowned at that comment. "That doesn't sound right. Arthur doesn't beg; he commands. He also knows how to negotiate. He wouldn't let an artist think he was desperate to make a purchase. I know that for sure. He gave me quite a lecture about learning how to negotiate for myself about two weeks ago."
"What were you negotiating?"
"I had an offer for a job as an executive chef at a popular vegan restaurant. I considered the opportunity, but the salary was low, and I don't particularly like cooking only vegan. Nor did I think I would have enough autonomy. The owner is known to be a micromanager. I made the mistake of telling Arthur about it, and he got all over me, telling me I needed to fight for what I wanted, demand more money, more freedom, and not just walk away. I then found out that the offer had only come my way because Arthur had used his connections to get the owner to hire me. I was furious. I had told him several times before not to get involved in my business. But he didn't listen."
She paused by her car, impulsively deciding to tell him the rest. "Last night, Arthur made a snide comment about my decision. That's why I had tears in my eyes. I had run into him in the hallway, and he told me that not only had I let myself down, but I'd also embarrassed him. He'd called in a favor for me, and I'd blown it off. He was really harsh. He said, 'You're a quitter, Callie. All you know how to do is walk away. You need to learn how to fight.'"
"That sounds like Arthur," Flynn admitted, an odd look in his eyes. "I'd forgotten he could be like that."
"Very judgmental? I guess it was part of his being a judge. He believed he knew what was best in every situation. He was used to people doing what he told them to do." She took a breath. "But he wasn't completely wrong. I haven't always fought when it comes to my career. I've never felt like I could give a hundred percent to a job—or two hundred percent, as most restaurant owners demand from their chefs."
"Because of your mother," he said quietly.
She was surprised that he'd realized that so quickly. "Yes. It's funny that you get it, but Arthur never did."
"I don’t know why he didn't think you were a fighter, because when it comes to your mom, you're a warrior."
"Am I? Or did I just walk away from her, too?" As the tears gathered in her eyes again, she said, "Dammit. I'm not usually a crier."
He gave her a smile. "I believe you. And you didn't walk away from your mom. You're getting her help."
"You said your mother went through hard times, too. What happened?"
"That's a long story."