to compose herself.
“That’s correct. And you must be Mr. Latham.”
“Call me Burt,” he replied, as he beckoned for her to follow him into his private office. He casually seated himself behind the desk and motioned for Madeline to take a seat in one of the two visitor chairs. “I’m glad I popped by to get something this morning. I wasn’t planning on coming into the office today.”
“Lucky for me,” Madeline said, easing herself into a chair.
“So, Mrs. Ridley, how can I be of help?”
Madeline felt her face grow hot as she reached into her tote for the manila envelope. She slid it across the table toward Burt Latham, but she didn’t let go of it. Burt leaned forward automatically to pick it up, but stopped short, his eyes meeting hers. Clearly, she felt the need for prior disclosure. She took a couple deep breaths for courage.
“Can you give me your word that anything I reveal to you will be strictly confidential, between us and no one else?”
“I absolutely guarantee it,” Burt said, sitting back in his chair, sending Madeline the message he didn’t intend to rush her in any way. She relaxed a little and let go of the envelope.
“Before you look at these photos, I’d like to first give you some background.” Madeline glanced around and found what she was looking for. “Could I trouble you for some water?” Burt got up and took a paper cup off the stack, filled it with tepid water and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” Madeline gratefully drank the stale-tasting water as she collected her thoughts. “Last Saturday evening, my husband and I attended a fundraiser at The Edgecliff. I was a co-chair of the event, so it was a working gala for me. My husband, Steven, was in an irritable mood on the way over, but I was too preoccupied to attach any significance to it.
“Looking back, I recall that he seemed out of sorts throughout the dinner, and when the dancing started, he flat out refused to dance with me, which is totally out of character for him. I asked him if something was wrong and he snapped at me. When a man approached and asked me to dance, I did. I was happy for the diversion. I suppose this was not a wise move on my part, but given my position, I felt completely justified. It was part of my duties to keep the festivities going.
“When the first song ended, my dance partner kept me on the floor. Like I said, this was a fundraiser, and for all I knew, this man—whom I’ve never seen before—could’ve been contributing heavily to our campaign. I danced through one more number with him, then begged off tactfully.
“When I got back to our table, Steven was livid. In the twelve years I’ve been married to him, he’d never acted like that before. He read me the riot act for dancing with the man, called me all kinds of horrible names—just went off on me. I tried to calm him down. Honestly, I thought there might be something wrong with him. But everything I said seemed to infuriate him more.
“He turned away from me mid-sentence and stormed out of the ballroom. I went after him, but the valet had kept his car at the entrance, so he was able to drive away before I could reach it. I stood there, debating whether I should grab a cab and go after him, but I couldn’t do that. I had an auction to oversee, so I went back inside.
“As soon as I reentered the ballroom, the man I had danced with appeared with two glasses of champagne and a promise to make sure I got home safely. Even at the time, his offer struck me as a little odd. But I was so rattled by Steven’s departure, it didn’t make that much of an impression on me. Until yesterday morning.”
Madeline motioned for Burt to look at the contents of the envelope. She watched uncomfortably as the detective removed the photos and rotated them so he could see them properly. One by one, he scrutinized them, glancing up at Madeline as he compared the subject’s features to those of the woman in front of him.
“From the photos
Learning to Kill: Stories