notepad. On purpose or not, Nora had managed to elude
me once again. Now what?
I'd learned early in my career that sometimes there is a
difference between information you have and information
you can use. This was one of those times. I had Nora's cor-
rect cell phone number but had to act as though I didn't.
With my banged-up hand I wrote her a note and left it
at the front door of Connor Brown's house. I was fairly sure
she'd get it. The question was when.
Chapter 49
IT WAS THE NEED for closure that had Nora back in Briar-
cliff Manor a couple of days later. Despite Connor's sister's
offering her the use of the house for as long as she wished,
Nora wanted to move on. Actually, she hoped never to see
the bitch from California again.
The offer she
was
going to take Elizabeth Brown up on
was possession of the furniture. All 11,000 square feet of
it. As the interior decorator, Nora knew what everything
cost -- and everything cost a lot. A small fortune, really.
One she was all too pleased to pocket in the name of assuag-
ing Lizzie's guilt, or whatever it was.
All she needed was a little help.
"Estate Treasures, can I help you?"
"Hi, it's Nora Sinclair calling. Is Harriet there?"
"Sure, Nora, hold on a second."
Nora switched ears with her cell phone. She was in the
backseat of the Town Car that was taking her out to Con-
nor's house.
Harriet got on the line. "Well, if it isn't my favorite deco-
rator."
"I bet you say that to
every
decorator."
"As a matter of fact, I do. And wouldn't you know, they
all believe me. So how's business, Nora?"
"Pretty good. That's why I'm calling."
"So when can I expect you here in the shop?"
"Actually, that's going to be my question to you, Harriet.
I need you to make a house call."
"
Oy.
Where am I going? New York City, I hope. Nora?
Talk to me."
"Briarcliff Manor. A client of mine recently passed away."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"So was I," said Nora calmly. "Anyway, I was asked to
deal with his furnishings on behalf of the estate."
"You want to consign them?"
"That's what I was thinking."
"A house call, huh? How many rooms are we talking
about?"
"Twenty-six."
"Oy."
"I know. That's why I called you. No one could do a bet-
ter job on this than you."
"I bet you say that to all your suppliers."
"And wouldn't you know, they all believe me," said Nora.
Nora took a few minutes to discuss some of the furniture
and a date for when Harriet could come and look at it. By
the time she said good-bye her Town Car was pulling into
Connor's driveway.
As the driver grabbed her suitcase, she got out and
headed for the front door. That's when she saw the note
from Craig Reynolds.
Please call me ASAP.
Chapter 50
THE BUZZ FROM my office phone was followed by Molly's
voice. "It's her," she announced.
I smiled. There was only one
her
she could be talking
about. Nora was back in town. It was about time.
"Here's what I want you to do, Molly," I said. "Tell Ms.
Sinclair I'll be right with her. Then put her on hold and
stare at your watch for forty-five seconds. After that, put her
through."
"You got it."
I leaned back in my chair and gazed at the ceiling. It was
composed of those white acoustic tiles that begged to have
sharp pencils thrown up into them. I could've been taking
the time to gather my thoughts, only that's all I'd been doing
the past week. There wasn't a stray thought of mine within a
hundred-mile radius.
Ring.
Thank you, Molly.
I picked up the phone and did my best impression of
frenzied. "Nora, are you still there?"
"I'm still here," she said. I could tell immediately she
wasn't very happy about having to wait.
"Bear with me for one more second, okay?"
I put her on hold again before she could object. Then I
stared back up at the ceiling.
One one thousand, two one
… At fifteen one thousand, I got back on the line
thousand
and let out a deep breath.
"Gosh, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Nora," I said, now
doing my best impression of apologetic. "I was finishing up
with another client on the other line. I take it you got my
note?"
"A few minutes ago, yes. I'm here at the house now."
Time to test her lying ability. "How was your trip? Mary-
land, right?"
"Actually, it was Florida," she said.
No.
Actually, it was Boston,
I wanted to say, but knew I
couldn't. Instead: "Oh, that's right. Wouldn't want to vote
there! Was it a good trip?"
"Very much so."
"You know I tried reaching you on that cell phone num-
ber you gave me -- except it turned out to be somebody
else's."
"That's odd. What number were you dialing?"
"Let me check, I've got it right here."
I read it back to Nora.
"That explains it," she said. "The last two digits are
eight-four, not four-eight. God, I hope it wasn't me who
mixed them up. I'm sorry if I did."
Oh, she's smooth.
"That's okay. It was probably my mistake," I said. "It
wouldn't be the first time I've suffered from digit dyslexia."
"In any event, we're talking now."
"Yeah, we are. Anyway, the reason I wanted to speak to
you was the insurance inquiry."
"Is there news?"
"You could call it that." I hesitated before going on.
"Please don't read too much into this, but I think we sh
