Free Mortar and Murder by Jennie Bentley Page B

happy to know he was right.”
    “Your boyfriend must know a lot about medicine,” Dr. Lawrence remarked.
    “Four years of medical school, four years of residency, and a year or so of practice before he decided he’d rather be a handyman.” I shrugged.
    “Ah.” The doctor smiled. “I take it we’re talking about young Mr. Ellis?”
    “You know Derek?”
    “Not well. I know his father. Doctors of pathology are doctors, too, you know.”
    “Right,” I said. She and Dr. Ellis were colleagues. Of course. They probably had meetings or luncheons or Christmas parties they attended together.
    While all this had been going on, Irina had been quiet, and now we all turned to her. She was standing next to me, her hands folded in front of her and her face impassive.
    “Miss Rozhdestvensky?” Dr. Lawrence said gently from the other side of the gurney. “Do you know her?”
    Irina’s lips thinned before they parted. “No.” She shook her head for emphasis.
    “You’re sure?”
    Irina looked up, from Wayne to me to the doctor. “I have never seen her before. If I did know who she was, I would tell you. She’s someone’s daughter, or sister, or wife. Not my sister, not my parents’ daughter, but someone’s. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”
    “That’s all right,” Wayne said. “It was worth a try. I don’t suppose you have any idea how she ended up with your name and address in her pocket, either, then?”
    Irina shook her head, her lips tightly pressed together now. “I have never seen her before. She didn’t contact me. No one else has contacted me, either.”
    Wayne nodded. “I understand. If anyone does or you think of anything that might help, please let me know.” He handed her his card.
    Irina took it and put it in the pocket of her suit. She looked from Wayne to Dr. Lawrence. “May I go now?”
    “Of course. And thanks for coming in.”
    Irina hesitated. “You’re welcome” didn’t quite suit the occasion, and “my pleasure” was even worse. Eventually, she settled for, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help.”
    “Even negative information is information,” Dr. Lawrence said with a nod. “Thank you for coming.”
    Irina headed for the door, and I excused myself to follow her, leaving Wayne and Dr. Lawrence together in the visiting room. We rode the elevator back upstairs in silence; it wasn’t until we were outside, and could breathe fresh air again, that Irina opened her mouth. “Thank you for coming with me, Avery.”
    “My pleasure,” I said. “I mean . . . I was happy to do it. It isn’t easy being all alone in a new place, is it? Have you made any friends while you’ve been here?”
    I hadn’t done too badly in that department myself, in the months I’d been here, but I’d probably gotten lucky. If I hadn’t met Kate, I wouldn’t have met Derek, and if I hadn’t met Derek, I wouldn’t have met Dr. Ben and Cora and Beatrice, and then there were Shannon and Josh . . . If it hadn’t been for Derek, I wouldn’t have met Irina, for that matter. She, on the other hand, always seemed to be alone.
    Irina made a face I took to mean, no, not really . “I have been busy. Real estate is a competitive business. But I have a partner I work with. We spend most days together. Her name is Ruth. She is waiting for me at the office so we can drive to South Portland to a house there that the owners want to sell.”
    “You use Ruth’s car?” Irina didn’t have one; that’s why she took the bus to Portland every morning.
    She nodded. “I meet her at the office every day. She lives in Kennebunk.”
    The other direction from Portland than Waterfield, then. I guess it made sense that she didn’t want to drive all the way up the coast to pick up Irina.
    “I’m sorry you had to come here first today. And for nothing, too. Although I guess it’s good that the girl wasn’t anyone you knew.”
    Irina nodded. “I almost wish she was. Somewhere, someone is looking for her.”
    If someone