“Thanks for meeting with us,” Kira told Shelly.
“Sure.” She glanced at Jeremy, seeming to accept the coworker explanation, then turned to Kira with a worried look. “What happened to Ollie?”
Kira was prepared for the question, but she still got a knot in her stomach.
“He was working at a client’s house Tuesday evening. Brock Logan? I don’t know if you know him.”
“That was Brock? Oh, my God.” Shelly covered her mouth.
“You heard about it?”
“I heard some of the partners talking about a murder that happened on Tuesday night. I never imagined it was Ollie. I can’t believe it. I mean . . . I just talked to him. Was it a robbery?”
“The police are investigating.” Kira took out her phone and pulled up her photo of the suspect drawing. “They have a sketch of the man they think did it.” She turned the phone to face Shelly. “He look familiar to you at all?”
“No.” She shook her head and pressed her hand to her chest. “I just still can’t believe someone would do this.”
Kira glanced at Jeremy, who was watching her closely, probably wondering what more she planned to reveal.
Not a lot. Kira didn’t want to discuss all the details of the case, especially not the detail that she’d been at Brock’s house when the shooting happened. This woman already seemed upset.
Kira put her phone away. “Like I said, I’m handling some of Ollie’s cases. Part of that is piecing together what he was working on the past few days.” She leaned closer. “Could you tell me what you do at Duffy and Hersch? I assume you’re an attorney?”
Kira assumed no such thing, but Shelly looked flattered.
“A law student, actually,” Shelly said. “This is my second summer clerking for them.”
“I see. What can you tell me about the package you sent Ollie on Monday?”
“Not much. I mean, it wasn’t from me. Drew called me on Saturday and asked me to send it.”
“Drew?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Andrew Spence. One of the junior partners.” She cleared her throat. “He called me from the airport on his way to Orlando for vacation. He said he was doing a favor for Ollie, and could I go to the courthouse first thing Monday and request a trial transcript.”
“Which courthouse?”
“Sorry. The criminal court. I go by the courts almost every day to file paperwork, so it was really no problem.”
Kira itched to pull out her notebook, but she sensed that might make Shelly more nervous than she already was.
“And do you remember the case?”
Shelly shook her head. “Not offhand. I wrote down the number, though. I can text it to you.”
“That would be helpful, thanks. So you submitted this request on Monday?”
“Yes. Mr. Spence wanted me to do it in person.”
“How come?”
“Sometimes their online orders get backed up, and I think he was in a hurry. He told me to fill out the paper form in person and to go ahead and pay the rush fee.”
Kira’s heartbeat quickened as she listened.
“And the transcript was ready Tuesday?” Kira asked.
“Monday afternoon, actually. I got a message, and I was over there anyway, so I went by and picked it up. Then I overnighted it to Ollie, like Mr. Spence asked me to.”
Kira watched her, desperately wishing she remembered the name of the case. Whatever it was, Ollie had been in a hurry to get his hands on it, which meant it was probably directly related to what he was doing the day of his murder.
“Is it unusual for Drew Spence to call you on a weekend with a request like that?” Kira asked.
Shelly blushed again. Her gaze jumped to Jeremy, then back to Kira. “Not really. He knows I work weekends. And he and Ollie were always doing favors for each other. Why?”
“Just wondering. Where’d you go to overnight the package?”
“Post Place. The one by the noodle shop across from the courthouse?”
“I know it.”
“I checked the tracking number, and it was delivered to Ollie’s office at four forty-nine the next day.”
“But Ollie called you about it? You said he left a message?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that was about. Like I said, I checked the tracking number.” Her expression clouded. “Why?”
Kira forced a smile. “Just trying to get a picture.”
Shelly looked at Jeremy. “That’s all? I can’t help wondering if any of this has to do with . . . I don’t know, whatever he was working on with Brock Logan.”
“I’m not sure,” Kira said.
Shelly bit her lip. Then she picked up her phone and checked the time. “I’m late getting back. Was there anything else you needed? You can always call me.”
“I will, thanks,” Kira said. “And if you think of anything relevant, give me a call. Anytime.”
Shelly stood and grabbed her coffee, looking relieved to escape. “Good luck with your work. I’m so sorry about Ollie.”
“Thank you.”
Kira stayed seated and watched the woman disappear into the river of people. She turned to Jeremy.
“What did you think?” she asked.
“She was nervous. What did you think?”
“I think she’s having an affair with Drew Spence, who’s probably at Disney World with his wife and kids right now.”
“Yeah, I caught that, too,” he said.
“And it sounds like Ollie was in a big hurry to get his hands on that trial transcript.”
“Any idea what it is?”
“No.”
She glanced around the café. “You want to order anything? The line’s not bad now.”
“I’m fine.”
Kira pushed her chair back, and her phone buzzed with a text. She read it as she stood up.
“Wow, she’s efficient.”
“Who?”
“Shelly sent me that case number. Come on, let’s go.”
He followed her out, but instead of retracing their steps, Kira led him farther into the warren of tunnels. They passed another shoe-repair place and stopped beside a barbershop with an old-fashioned red, white, and blue barber’s pole out front. Kira peered through the glass before opening the door. She caught Jeremy’s puzzled look as she went inside.
The shop smelled like shaving cream. New Orleans Saints memorabilia lined the walls. Kira smiled at the tall African American man standing behind one of the occupied swivel chairs.
“Daryl, hi.”
He gave her a nod as he skimmed his shears over a customer’s neck.
“Mind if I borrow your restroom?” she asked.
Daryl glanced at Jeremy behind her and raised an eyebrow. Then he gave another nod.
“Thanks.”
Kira ducked behind the reception desk and grabbed a key that was attached to a clunky wooden fleur-de-lis. Jeremy followed her through the shop, past a series of cramped supply rooms to a heavy gray door.
Daryl knew full well she didn’t need to use his restroom. But Ollie was a favorite customer, and Daryl let him and Kira come and go as they pleased in return for the occasional PI favor.
Kira unlocked the door and pushed it open. They were now in a private tunnel beneath a sixty-story office tower, most of which was occupied by an oil and gas company. Kira passed a restroom and a water fountain, then peeked around a corner to check for any security guards. Technically, she needed an ID badge to be down here, and she’d been stopped before.
“Want to tell me where we’re going?” Jeremy asked.