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Closer. Either way, she knew in her heart that she was supposed to be involved in the investigation.
    Out of the fog of her fantasies, she spotted a roll-top desk in the back corner of the room. With the desk already open, Julie could see Donella’s leather Day-Timer and a neatly arranged stack of office materials—the calendar she kept for Peter Lanham, several Lanham’s company files in the familiar forest-green folders, and what looked like a checkbook. Julie tiptoed closer, lifting the edge of the cover to see a stack of checks in the name of Peter G. and Patricia A. Lanham . Why would Donella have the Lanham’s personal checks?
    Hearing footsteps approaching, Julie rushed to her seat on the chintz-covered sofa and quickly unwrapped the plate of cookies.
    “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, Julie,” Donella began as she returned carrying a silver tray and tea service. “This has been an exceptionally difficult day for me, as you might expect. I suppose I’m still in shock.” It sounded more like an announcement than an explanation, but Julie knew she was trying.
    “I know, Donella. We’re all in shock. But of course, you were much closer to him than the rest of us.”
    Donella stopped pouring tea and looked directly at her, stiffening her posture. “Mr. Lanham was my boss for over twenty years. Ours was a completely professional relationship, I assure you.” The narrowed eyes stared a second longer then returned to the tea she was pouring into delicate china cups. She handed a cup and matching saucer to Julie. “He was a good and decent man, and it was my privilege to work alongside him all these years.” Her voice caught, but she pressed her lips together and focused on stirring cream into her own cup of tea.
    Julie felt a genuine pity for the sad, heartbroken woman. She has no one. All these years she’s adored a man who never thought of her as anything but a glorified gofer, catering to his every whim. How sad to live a life of unrequited love. Like poor Miss Moneypenny to James Bond, forever hoping.
    “And I’m sure he treasured you for all your years of invaluable service to him. I’m not sure he could have functioned without you, Donella.” She took a sip of tea then added, “Literally. You were indispensable to him, and you should be proud to have been such a faithful assistant to him.”
    Donella set her cup and saucer back on the table and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. She sniffed quietly, wiping her nose then a quick dab at each eye.
    The ticking of a grandfather clock accentuated the uncomfortable silence between them. Julie bolstered her courage and continued. “I can’t even imagine why someone as successful and respected as Mr. Lanham would . . . I mean, he had so much to live for! Why on earth would he—”
    “That’s not our concern,” Donella said, her words clipped and abrupt. Any hint of transparence had vanished.
    Julie startled at the reprimand. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t asking—what I was trying to say—” Julie huffed in defeat. She lifted the plate toward Donella. “Care for a cookie?”
    Without a word, Donella took one of the chocolate chip cookies and placed it on the saucer beside her cup. She suddenly sat forward in her chair. “I certainly hope that ridiculous TBI agent didn’t pry confidential information from any of our employees. His behavior was inexcusable. I can only imagine the tactics he used to gain information from—”
    The doorbell rang, interrupting the unexpected tirade. “ Now what,” Donella groaned, heading for the door.
    From her seat, Julie couldn’t see who was at the door, but whoever it was must have surprised her hostess. Donella looked back and forth between Julie and whoever it was several times, then finally opened the door wider. “Forgive my manners, Patricia. Please come in.”
    Patricia Lanham? Here? Her husband just died this morning, and she pops in for a visit to his secretary? Julie stood to