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politicking.”
    “You can say that again. And the politics swing in different directions after any election. Never a dull moment.”
    Jonathan and I went on to discuss the local attractions. It was hard to believe that he hadn’t explored any of the Smithsonian museums yet. Operating in chatterbox mode, I couldn’t help recommending some of my favorite exhibits for him to visit when he had the time.
    When we had finished our lunches we headed back to the DIPPeR. He had no sooner said, “It was nice talking to you, Adina,” and his police persona took over. “Please call me if you think of anything else that might help us find out what happened to Hilary.”
    “Of course. Anything I can do to help.”
    We parted ways, and he walked off toward the conference room.
    Back at my desk, I wondered how Duncan was doing. He hadn’t come into the office so I texted him to see if he felt like talking. He didn’t respond to my message.
    Seeing that Matt had sent feedback on the presentation, I set to work on the necessary revisions and additions. I had just emailed the updated file to Matt when Michelle and Amber stopped by my desk to invite me to join them and a few other colleagues for happy hour at Smith’s Bar and Grill. Not an offer I’d usually refuse, but I wasn’t in the mood. Instead, I clocked out and headed home.

Chapter 9        
    One of the main drawbacks of my basement apartment is the lack of laundry facilities. I envy the folks who live in the nice apartment buildings with washers and dryers in the basement. There’s only so much hand-wash I’m willing to do. At least once a month I schlep by bus to a coin-operated Laundromat. This Saturday was laundry day.
    As I was on my way out with my laundry crammed into two super-size shopping bags, Daniel stepped out and offered to drop me off on his way downtown. My hero.
    Daniel asked how I was doing and whether the police had figured out what had happened yet.
    “The detective interviewed lots of people at the DIPPeR yesterday. He spoke to me again, and asked a few more questions.”
    “What kind of questions this time?”
    “Mostly about Hilary and Duncan, and Hilary’s photography. Then he suggested we eat lunch together. It caught me by surprise, but I agreed. Not sure what to make of it.”
    “That is odd. It might have been motivated by different things – depending on whether he views you as a suspect, source of info, potential romantic interest – or a combination thereof.”
    “I think he mostly sees me as a source of info. He was asking me about Hilary, and my stomach grumbled loud enough for him to hear. It was past lunchtime.”
    Daniel laughed, “So he had to put you out of your misery.”
    “We did have a pleasant chat about D.C. in general. He didn’t seem to be pumping me for information while we ate.”
    “Sounds harmless, unless you’re interested in this guy,” he teased.
    “The jury is still out on that question.”
    “Keep me posted on any new and exciting developments.”
    Daniel pulled up to the curb. I blew him a kiss and hopped out.
    Even though the Laundromat was busy, I found a couple of empty washing machines in the back. Curled up on an uncomfortable chair with my e-reader, I must have read the same paragraph 10 times without absorbing a single word. I had almost given up when my smartphone chirped to let me know a message had arrived.
    The message was from Duncan. “Got ur msg. Can u talk?”
    I texted back, “Laundromat. Noisy.”
    Another chirp. “OK. Maybe later.”
    Now I felt guilty. He had reached out, and I wasn’t very supportive. Noisy or not, I’d have to call him.
    As soon as he picked up, I apologized. “Duncan, how are you? I’m so sorry about Hilary. Of course, I’d really like to talk to you. Unfortunately, now isn’t a great time.”
    “Thanks for calling. I’m a bit out of sorts. So much has happened. Listen, I don’t feel like talking on the phone. Can we get together and talk when