Wednesday, 5 p.m.Tom was finishing a conference call when Emma, his assistant, buzzed him to say that a Kathleen Nelson was in the lobby. He asked her to let them know that he was on his way down to get her. As he passed Emma, he said he’d be gone for the rest of the day and that Ms. Nelson was one of Suzanne’s relatives. Emma knew who Suzanne was, having met her a few weeks back when she and Kerry Neally had unexpectedly stopped by to take Tom to lunch, although when he got back he said, “Somehow I ended up picking up the check.”
In the lobby, Tom immediately recognized a lady-that-lunched. Slim and of medium height with blonde hair of questionable but tasteful (and expensive) provenance, she wore a black dress with a white collar and black pumps, sunglasses over her hair. A nice, black
