Free Don't Blink by James Patterson Page B

came from his funeral, actually. Very sad.”
    She shook her head slowly. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw it on the news.”
    “You remember him, huh? From when he was here that day?” I asked.
    “Yes,” she said. “And from the day before, too.”
    I looked at her sideways as her last sentence knocked around in my head.
    The day before?

Chapter 29
    IT DIDN’T MAKE SENSE, none at all. Dwayne Robinson hadn’t been at Lombardo’s that first day. He had stood me up.
    But he
had
been here. At least according to Tiffany.
    “When?” I asked. “What time was it? Sorry to bother you, but it’s important to me. I was supposed to do a story on Dwayne. For
Citizen
magazine.”
    “I’m not sure exactly. It was on the early side. Noonish, maybe.”
    That had been before I’d arrived, about a half hour before Dwayne and I were supposed to meet. Odd. Crazy.
    “You’re sure it was him?” I asked.
    “Yes,” she said. “Of course, I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I remembered seeing him only after they showed his picture on TV. I’m not a big baseball fan. I didn’t know who he was until then.”
    “Did you seat him?” I asked.
    “No. I didn’t even talk to him.”
    “What was he doing? Did you happen to notice? Anything at all?”
    “I don’t know. I was busy with other customers. I just remember seeing him at one point. He was looking around.”
    For me?
    Had he thought we were meeting at noon instead of twelve thirty?
    I stood there utterly perplexed, trying to think this new mystery through. All I knew for sure was that Dwayne had been at the restaurant the following day at twelve thirty. Courtney had said she’d never bothered to ask his agent why he had stood me up. Could Dwayne have thought I had stood him up? But then why would he have gone to the trouble to meet with me the next day?
    For the past dozen years, asking questions has been second nature to me. It’s how I do my job. I ask questions, I get answers, I find out what I need to know.
Boom, boom, boom
. Simple as that. Especially when I’m really into a story.
    But this was different. The more questions I asked Tiffany, the less I understood about what had happened.
    “I’m sorry to keep pressing, but is there anything else you can remember?” I asked. “Anything at all?”
    She turned her head away, thinking for a moment. “Not really. Except…”
    “Except what?”
    “Well, he did seem
really
nervous.”
    “You mean, like, he was pacing?”
    “Nothing quite so obvious,” she said. “It was more hiseyes. He was a big guy, but he looked almost… scared to be here.”
    I literally smacked my forehead as a Latin expression from my school days at St. Pat’s came rushing back to me.
“Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem.”
    I was always so-so at Latin, yet this mouthful I’ve somehow never forgotten. It’s the basis for what’s commonly referred to as Occam’s razor. Translated, the phrase roughly means “entities should not be multiplied more than necessary.” In other words, all things being equal, the simplest solution is the best.
    And what was I
simply
forgetting about Dwayne Robinson?
    His anxiety disorder. Of course.
    It made total sense now. He had arrived early to meet me for lunch that first time. He looked scared, according to Tiffany. That’s because he was. He was nervous about doing the interview and perhaps just nervous to be in the crowded restaurant, period. People could see him; some of them would definitely recognize Dwayne Robinson.
    So he got cold feet and left.
    I thanked Tiffany for my jacket and her time and help. I thought she’d thrown me a curveball about Dwayne Robinson, but as I walked out of Lombardo’s, I was convinced I had it all figured out.
“Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem.”
    Unfortunately, what I didn’t know at the time—what I couldn’t know—was that I actually had it all wrong. Because as theories go, Occam’s razor isn’t