Chapter 12: What He Knew

I did not knock.

Elliot's office door was open.

He stood in the middle of the carpet in yesterday's shirt, pale and clearly exhausted.

I closed the door behind me.

I still had his jacket over my arm, and I held it out.

He didn't take it.

"Say it," I said.

"I recognized you."

The room did not move, but something in it dropped.

"At what point?" My voice came out flat. "Say the exact point."

"Friday, at four-ten in the afternoon, I signed your offer."

He kept his hands at his sides.

"Your file was open on my desk. The portfolio, the trail-running spread, and your photograph on the cover sheet."

"Red hair, glasses. A woman looking at the camera like she'd been told to smile and was refusing."

"And at eleven that night."

"You came up the stairs to the mezzanine in a mustard cardigan." He swallowed. "I knew you before you sat down."

I stood absolutely still.

"I have thought about this for ten days," he said. "I don't have a version that's better than that."

"You said you didn't know."

"I did."

"You sat in that office and said you didn't know I worked for you when you sat down at that bar."

"I did, and it was a lie."

"You told the board I approached you, and you left the rest out."

"That part was true. It wasn't all of it."

"You let me say your name," I said. "You let me say it like it was nothing."

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