Free Swann Songs (The Boston Uncommon Mysteries Book 4) by Arlene Kay Page B

me, Eja. I`ll drop you off at the University. That way we can talk strategy on the drive.”
    Instead of pouting, I counted my blessings. Deming was controlling and wildly overprotective at times, but he cared about me. A loving husband was a far cry from the indifference and deceit of life with Gabriel Mann. All things considered, I was one lucky woman.

Chapter Eight
    SONIA REYES WORE widow`s weeds or her version of them. Black was particularly flattering to her and played well to her role as grieving employer. Pallor also suits some women, enhancing their vulnerability and emitting pheromones to every available male. Sonia had wisely chosen pale, flesh-hued lipstick and a subtle touch of mascara. In contrast, my flame-colored dress and vibrant makeup seemed garish and over the top.
    Her office was modest, not an unusual arrangement in the rigid university caste system. The untenured were one small step above adjuncts, those academic itinerants who served at the pleasure of their masters.
    “I`m afraid there`s not much space,” Sonia said, waving me into the only chair. “My back kills me after a day in that old chair.” She pointed to a pink satin pillow festooned with rosettes. “I keep that pillow here to save my back.”
    “No problem,” I said. “It`s cozy.”
    “That`s one name for it,” she sniffed. “Things will improve when I get tenure.”
    Her voice had the smug ring of certainty.
    “Oh? Are congratulations in order? I hadn`t heard.”
    A slight flush stained Sonia’s cheeks. “I misspoke. Nothing`s definite yet. I . . . please don`t mention it to anyone. It could start a war around here, and things are difficult enough for a woman.”
    “Of course not. I understand.”
    I ignored her plea for gender solidarity. Sonia Reyes would likely lead the charge in any war against women if it suited her purpose. I`d seen so-called activists like Sonia often enough in my professional dealings. They were piranhas, omnivores who cruised the seas seeking suitable prey of either gender.
    “About the book, Sonia. I`d need access to all your information—files, notes, and academic papers—the works. If you have anything of Duff’s, I`ll take that too.”
    Sonia pointed to a cubbyhole outside her office. “That was Duff’s space. Nothing much as you can see. That policeman went through it yesterday.” She shuddered. “That Keegan. He gives me the creeps. And the questions he asked! Like the whole thing was my fault.”
    “I assume you obtained counsel.”
    Sonia dismissed me with a flick of her hand as if the question irritated her. “Yes, yes. Of course. Edwina Jewell is representing me. You`ve probably heard of her.”
    I shook my head. “Nope. I leave the legal stuff to my husband and father-in-law. Two lawyers are more than enough in any family.”
    Sonia snapped to attention as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. “No wonder you`re so complacent,” she said, “with Bolin and Deming Swann at your side. No matter. I`m more than satisfied with my choice. Edwina Jewell is the city`s foremost feminist lawyer. Her firm, Jewell & Jacobs, takes only female clients.”
    Instead of commenting, I nodded. Personally, I would be more interested in the competence of my attorney than her politics, but Sonia was a complex woman with her own agenda. Keegan had every reason to be wary.
    “Were you surprised by the cause of death?” I asked. “The murderer was very serious about eliminating you. Cyanide is lethal enough, but it`s almost baroque. So Agatha Christie.”
    Sonia shuddered once more. “When I think of that throat spray . . . Keegan took it of course. Had the entire thing analyzed.” She walked over to me and clutched my shoulder. “Who could hate me that much, Eja? I`ve never hurt anyone in my life. I`ve only tried to help.”
    Talk about your specious claims! From what I`d observed, Sonia was the type of woman who would claw her way to the top of the career ladder rung by rung. Her path