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just talking.

Chapter Six
    Sam spotted Lora at a table in the corner. She stood and introduced herself to Simone, extending her hand.
    “Let's get this over with,” Simone said, ignoring the outstretched hand.
    Smiling, seeming a little embarrassed, Lora glanced at Sam and sat back down. A waiter arrived at the table and they ordered. Sam and Lora made small talk until the drinks arrived, while Simone sat pushed back from the table, her legs crossed, one foot moving up and down to a slow cadence.
    “You seem to have gotten yourself into some trouble after you left my place,” Lora said. “I thought you might need my help.”
    “What kind of help?” He took a long drink of the cold beer.
    Chopin stood behind the bar a few feet behind Lora’s chair, wiping it with a towel, pretending not to listen to their conversation. The round man with the tattoos finally looked in their direction, and Sam gave him a nod. He cut his eyes away.
    “I thought you might need a lawyer,” Lora said.
    Sam gave her a quick smile. “What I need is information on Sean Spanner. You think you could help me with that?”
    “I told you last night, I don't know anything about this Spanner man.”
    “Jake must've said something about him,” Sam said. “Think hard.”
    Lora shook her head. “But he didn't. Wait….” She peered down at the table for a couple of moments.
    Simone's foot stopped moving, and she uncrossed her legs and eased up to the table. “What did he say?”
    “He said something like, ‘the questions about the Marathon job make sense, now.’”
    “What questions?”
    “He wouldn't tell me. He just clammed up after that, with a serious expression on his face, as if he might be obsessing about something. Then he told me to wait at the table when he went to talk to you. I was pretty miffed by then, so I left and followed you two to the motel.”
    Sam nodded. “What kind of job is it they're doing in Marathon?”
    The reporter shrugged. “A new shopping center.”
    “Does it involve any concrete?”
    Lora raised an eyebrow. “Concrete? I guess it might. The Bell Company pours a lot of concrete. Why?”
    Leaning back in his chair, Sam drank from his beer bottle and glanced at Simone. Her eyes widened.
    “Nothing,” Sam said. “Just wondering what a construction job would have to do with Sean Spanner.”
    He drained his beer. “We need to get going.”
    “So that's it? That's all you're going to tell me?”
    Simone stood and headed for the door.
    “Sorry, that's all there is to tell.” He got up from his chair. “I still want to see the story before you run it in the paper. I'll drop by your office this afternoon about five.”
    Lora stood and said, “Okay. In case you change your mind about the lawyer, Charles Ford is good, and I can talk to him for you. You might need him more than you think.”
    Why did she keep bringing up the lawyer? “It sounds like you might know something I don't.”
    “Well, I heard the police did some research and couldn't find any records on you, like you're off the grid. That's the kind of thing that gets their attention.”
    “Who told you that?”
    “Sorry, I have to protect my sources. What do you have to say about it?”
    “The chief just brought me in for some more questions. He dragged out a file on the two-month-old murder you mentioned last night. Then he let me go. That's all there was to it.”
    He turned and strode out the door.
    When they got into the car Simone said, “You think somebody killed Spanner and put him under some poured concrete?”
    “If he's dead, the killer might have planned on doing that, but I think he would’ve changed his mind when he saw me talking to Jake Bell.”
    “Yeah, that makes sense. And you just mentioned it to keep the reporter busy for a while.”
    He nodded as he started the car. “The guy couldn't have known whether or not Bell mentioned that to me when he asked about a meeting.”
    “He was probably in the restaurant,”