Page 87 of Family Affair

“I understand. But I find it far fetched, to be honest with you, that Cade has fallen under suspicion.”

“Nah, Cade isn't under suspicion. But you’ll have to agree, it’s awfully coincidental that Cade, with his ties to Frank Sheffield’s forgery ring, arrived in Atlanta out of the blue, attended a service at Ward Williamson’s church, and went to his house all in the span of several days leading up to the preacher’s death. Add to that his hostile and belligerent attitude when questioned, and we’d be complete idiotsnotto take notice.”

“When you put it like this…”

"Yes, sometimes you have to put things into perspective.” His eyes roved around taking in every detail of her modest workplace. "Are you familiar with a certain Pollock drawing that belonged to the Sheffield family?"

"I am now, after Detective Willis told me about it."Strike two, Willis.

Smirnoff visibly winced. "Very well, very well. You're an artist, correct?"

"Yes." She suspected Smirnoff had already checked her out.

“Wonderful. I have to go one day, attend one of them exhibitions they hold downtown. My wife likes artsy things, she’d enjoy that. Well, thank you for your time.” He tucked the notepad into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Now, is your boss available?"

She directed him to Aaron’s office and performed introductions.

Aaron’s eyes bugged out at the mention of Smirnoff’s credentials – the word “homicide” tended to assign life-and-death urgency to the simplest situation – but Coco didn’t dwell on the astonished look he threw in her direction.

Aaron’s reaction being the least of her concerns, Coco firmly closed the door she returned to her desk, lost in speculations, wrapped in a sad feeling that always enveloped her when she thought about Frank.

She wished she could talk about him with someone, for therapeutic purposes, to understand more of the person behind the enigma and to finally lay her unhealthy obsession with him to rest. The only obvious choice would be to ask his brothers, but she couldn’t admit to any of them how hopelessly fascinated she had become with him. They were liable to send her for a psychiatric evaluation.

Before long, the door opened and Smirnoff emerged, smiling and thanking Aaron for his time. Aaron followed with the air of such utmost self-importance that Coco wanted to gag.

“Their offices are located on the second floor, to the left of the elevators.” He didn’t spare her a glance, his attention absorbed in full by Smirnoff’s beard. “I am absolutelyhonoredby the chance to assist in such an important investigation. Yes. Please let me know if you have other questions about my employees. I’ll be delighted to answer them.”

Nodding at Coco, Smirnoff left, moving a tad faster than she presumed was normal for his heft. Aaron had this effect on people. They suddenly became very agile and in a great hurry to get back to their business after a few minutes in his company.

When Smirnoff’s wide back cleared the doorway, her boss turned his attention to her. His normally pasty cheeks were brilliant red and his short breaths were fogging his glasses.

Coco sighed. She was Trouble.

“I must say,” he began stiffly, “that this is the first time in my career as a manager thepolicepay me a visit regarding one of my employees.” He whipped off his glasses and started polishing them with a handkerchief in awkward little movements.

Aaron’s managerial career spanned all of two years, so there were great many things he was yet to see, but Coco chose not to mention it to him. Instead, she scrambled to find the right tone to calm him down.

“This is my first time interacting with the police as well. To their defense, they have been nothing but nice in their interviews.”

Aaron stopped polishing his glasses and glared at her. “Nice? They would better be nice to me! I am an innocent party in all this ugliness!”

Coco’s forehead wrinkled. An innocent party? “Good Lord, Aaron, the police didn’t accuse you of anything, did they?”

The question was a major faux pas on her part, and not at all what Aaron meant.

“Accuse me?” he squeaked. “Are you implying that I may be in the same boat with you? This is preposterous! No, listen to yourself,Iam beingaccused!” He gesticulated so wildly that Coco thought it within the realm of possibility that he might fly. “No, Coco, the detective was here solely on your behalf! Solely. And he was grateful – yes, grateful – for my willingness to cooperate with their investigation although it had nothing to do with me!”

“Of course, you’re right,” she said hastily. “And I am also grateful for your time and willingness to provide the police with information on my behalf. I understand it has nothing to do with you, or with our company.” She trailed off because she ran out of things to say to placate him.

Aaron wasn’t satisfied with her excuses. “Your association with the murdering family is unacceptable.”

“Nobody has been implicated,” she felt compelled to point out.

“You know what they say, where there’s smoke, there’s also fire. Detective Smirnoff thinks so, too. And you’re furnishing alibi for the chief suspect. Why?”

Coco knew better than to explain to him that the act of providing alibi was to state that the person had been elsewhere at the time the crime took place. Which she wasn't making up.

“The police are working very hard to crack this case, and soon everything will get back to normal. I’m sure there’ll be no more trouble for us.” She was sure of no such thing, of course, but rationalized there could be no more reason for Smirnoff to come back to Heated Designs and upset Aaron into popping a vein.

Aaron wasn’t pacified by her assurances. He stood in the doorframe looking even smaller and younger than usual. His arms hung limply at his sides and he stared at the spot beneath the clock on the wall.

“How can I… What to do?” he whispered and put his glasses back on. “I have to think. I have to discuss this with my superiors. Just get back to work.”

He turned on his heels and marched into his office giving off all the impression of a wooden soldier.