My employer turned to me. "Erika thinks she is still a suspect. Is she being followed?"
I nodded. "I believe so. There were two men on the platform when we were at the train station, but they didn't meet anybody. Their car pulled into the parking lot here a few minutes after we got here. It's possible–"
My employer touched Erika's wrist as she started to turn toward the window. "It's considered bad form to look," she said quietly.
"It's possible that the person they were meeting missed that train, and they came here to have a drink in the bar while they waited, but the next train would have arrived a few minutes ago, and their car is still here." I shrugged. "Not conclusive, but a pretty good bet."
"I'm not surprised," my employer said. "The police have a dead body, and I'm sure they're going to pursue the investigation however they can. Claudia's mother called them off, but that only applies to things that she can see."
"Unless it's reporters," Erika said. "Shit." She covered her mouth again. "I'm sorry."
"They didn't look like reporters," I said. "And they didn't react to the arrival of Jan Sleet as reporters would have. I think they were detectives."
The waiter came over. "Is everything satisfactory, miss?" he asked Erika. I wondered if he even knew her last name, then I realized I didn't know it either.
"Everything is fine, Joseph," she said, smiling. "We'll order in a while."
"That's fine, miss. Would you like some more bread?"
"Oh, that would be wonderful. It's so good."
My employer nodded, wiping some olive oil off of her fingers. "Molto buono," she said.
He smiled and bowed. "Grazie."
"Di niente."
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