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  I pushed my cart around aimlessly until I came to the meat counter. Suzette was just taking her package from the butcher of what I presumed were steaks for dinner, and headed her cart in the opposite direction. I moved along to the end of the counter where there was an assortment of already cooked chickens, ribs, and tri-tip. I put a tri-tip in my cart thinking I could slice it very thin for sandwiches. I picked up some cheese and marinated chilies. In the produce section I found tomatoes and a ripe avocado. I paid for my purchases without seeing Suzette again, and headed home.

  John wasn’t home when I got there and I wasn’t hungry yet, so I grabbed my exercise gear and headed for the gym. Half an hour later I vigorously walked uphill on the treadmill while I read a book by an indie author I found on Amazon. The book, Free Country, was about two British guys who decided to walk the length of Britain without using any money. I had resisted getting a Kindle for a long time, but it certainly came in handy at the gym, and there was always a good selection of great books by independent authors to choose from.

  “Alex, is that you?”

  I looked up from my page to see a man with very large biceps and an engaging smile.

  “Seymour! How nice to see you. How have you been?”

  Seymour Pratt, aka Sloth, was a young tattoo artist with a bright future thanks to some financial help from my grandmother. Meme likes helping young people with questionable pasts get back on their feet, and Seymour was one of her many success stories. In addition to tattoos, he also designed custom rosary beads. A strange combination to be sure, but he had blended both skills beautifully, and had his own shop in Pirates Cove called Body Expressions.

  “I’m doing well. The shop is getting a good reputation, and I’m starting to get a lot of customers via word of mouth from all over New England and New York. I saw your grandmother today.”

  “Oh, yeah, she told me she and Theresa needed to pick up more tattoos.” Meme and her gang like wearing temporary tattoos with various bingo motifs when they go to the bingo halls. She had managed to drum up quite a bit of business for Seymour, and he tried to come up with a new design every month for the ladies.

  “I owe everything to your grandmother. She had faith in me from the beginning, and I’m proud of the fact that I haven’t let her down.”

  “My grandmother knows a good bet when she sees one.”

  Seymour blushed and then changed the subject. “She tells me you’re on another case.”

  “I am.” I proceeded to tell Seymour everything I knew so far including my conversation with Suzette at Whole Foods. When I was done, he looked to be deep in thought.

  “Seymour? Is something wrong?”

  “I’m doing a tat for some guy out of New York. Not sure what his line of work is and I don’t ask. But he was telling me about an influx of guys coming into the states from Eastern Europe, the Balkans, mainly. Some from the Baltic as well. They’re looking for work. I’m like a hairdresser. People feel the need to talk to me while I’m working on them.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like maybe some of them are working at Connecticut Custom Homes.”

  “Maybe. I’m sure some of it is on the up and up, at least as up as entering a country illegally can be.”

  “But?” I asked, my breath coming in gasps. The treadmill was at its steepest angle and I had increased the speed a few minutes ago.

  “But I think some of these poor guys got sucked into paying for entry with the promise of good jobs, a decent place to live, and money to send home to the family.”

  “And that’s not happening?”

  Seymour crossed his large arms across his chest. “I don’t know. Look at all these women that come here with the promise of a better life and end up in the sex trade.”

  “So maybe Vic Sanjari was bringing in cheap labor from other countries and didn’t make good on his promises and one of them killed him.” I smiled. “I like it.”

  “It’s a better scenario than the police thinking Sam is involved. Mrs. Redmond said John is a good guy, so I’m sure he is. He’ll come to his senses. I think your sister will be fine. Look, I’ve got to finish my workout. I’m meeting up with some friends for dinner and a movie. Good to see you, Alex.”

  “You, too, Seymour.”

  I watched him move over to where the free weights were and then returned to my thoughts. I’d only been working the case for a few hours and already I had tons of suspects. Now all I had to do was convince a certain detective that Gary Hachmeister and a host of illegal Eastern European workers deserved a visit by the police.

  Chapter 18

  As soon as I stepped in the door, I ran upstairs for a quick shower. I tossed on my summer night shirt and headed downstairs to make a sandwich. John was standing at the sink cutting up tomatoes and the avocado.

  “I assume we’re having sandwiches. I cut the meat up in thin slices. It’s on the table.”

  The table was set for two with a bowl of cut-up cantaloupe to go with the sandwiches, a little cup with the chilies, and a plate with slices of meat and cheese.

  “This looks good. Thanks,” I said.

  “It’s too hot for the oven, but I can warm your sandwich and melt the cheese in the toaster oven,” John offered.

  “Okay.” I watched him spread the bread with some mayonnaise and horseradish just the way I liked it. Then he piled on meat and two slices of cheese and put the sandwich in the little oven on the counter. When it was warmed he placed it in front of me and repeated the process for himself. Okay, so the man had a few uses. I glanced at him while I took a bite of the sandwich, savoring the chili I had tossed on. He could exasperate me to no end like yesterday, but I also knew that John would never drag me out of a party by the arm or tell me to go to bed just because he was tired. He also put a lot of thought into the gifts he gave me, and the best thing of all was that I knew if my mother or father or grandmother ever needed to live with us when they got older, he would move them in immediately. No assisted living care would do, not while John and I were able to care for them.

  John took his sandwich from the oven and came and sat next to me. We both ate in silence for a few minutes. The cantaloupe was cool and refreshing, and the glass of mint iced tea John poured was perfect.

  “Your sister came to see me this morning.”

  “I know. She told Meme and me she was going to.”

  John looked at me with concern. “Did you know she and Michael are having problems?”

  I had a mouth full of food, so I shook my head. When I finally swallowed, I said, “not until yesterday.”

  “Do you really think he’s cheating on her? I can’t believe it. He’s not that kind of a guy. He loves Sam and the kids.”

  “So she told you about sitting across from his office at the time Mr. Sanjari was killed?” I really didn’t feel like getting into another argument, but I had to know what was going on with my sister.

  “She did. I could see why she didn’t want to tell me, but I’m glad she did. I told her to stop. She needs to sit Michael down and work it out.”

  “So you believe her?” I asked.

  “I believe her. But just to be sure we checked the cameras in the parking lot. Your sister at least had the good luck to do her spying from a bank parking lot. Cameras all over. There she was, just like she said, at the time Mr. Sanjari was nailed.”

  “So she’s off the hook?” I held my breath.

  John looked at me and nodded, a big smile spread across his face. “She’s off the hook and it’s a good thing because I have a feeling if she went to prison, you’d probably want to go with her to keep her company.”

  I jumped out of my seat and wrapped my arms around John’s neck, then placed a big kiss on his lips. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go to jail and you’re right, Sam would never have made it on her own.” I sat back down and took a gulp of tea.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked when I looked back at John and saw how serious he had become.

  “Sam said she told Michael abou
t Victor Sanjari’s passes. She said Michael didn’t like the guy at all, and didn’t like how his daughter was treating Kendall. Michael said the little girl was a bully and he thought that he and Sam needed to talk to Victor. Sam told him that Moshi’s mother had just died and things would get better after a while, but Kendall came home crying one day a couple of weeks ago and Michael had had enough.”

  “I don’t blame him, but now that she’ll be living with her aunt, hopefully things will be better. What’s that look?”

  “Your sister is thankfully off the hook.”

  “But?” I had a bad feeling about this.

  “But, Alex, I have to ask, and don’t get upset with me, but where the hell was Michael when Victor Sanjari was killed?”

  Chapter 19

  Just when I thought a night of passion might be in the offing, John had to go and act like a cop again. Geesh. And I had even put on my nice night shirt, not the one with the holes, which was actually a lot more comfortable.

  At least our guest room was getting some action. I was beginning to wonder if I should move all my husband’s clothes in there, because if he was going to work his way down through my family as possible suspects, this was going to be a very long hot summer. And I wasn’t talking about hot in the passion sense. I’d make sure the air conditioning in the guest room was on the blink.

  I was seated at the kitchen table the following morning enjoying a slice of toast, a cup of tea, and the left-over cantaloupe from last night when Detective Van der Burg walked into the kitchen. Yes, I was back to not using his first name.

  “We’re supposed to have dinner tonight with Mary-Beth and Jeff. Are you still up for it or would you rather I not go?” John asked.

  “You can go. No need for our friends to know all our dirty laundry,” I said with an air usually used by royalty. Who was I kidding? I had already emailed Mary-Beth the latest on the misguided murder investigation headed by the guy standing next to me. “It’ll be nice to have dinner with some people who don’t consider members of my immediate family to be murdering miscreants.”

  I could hear the detective sigh behind me and I could tell he was counting to ten.

  “Alex,” he began as he sat next to me and scooted his chair closer. “I have a job to do. Do I think Michael is involved? Probably not, but even you must be a bit curious as to where he’s been. This is not normal Michael behavior. The guy is a straight arrow, but his daughter is being bullied and his wife is being touched inappropriately and blackmailed before their sunroom can pass inspection. Everyone has a breaking point. And the truth is we don’t know everything that’s going on with Sam and Michael.”

  I started to protest.

  “Wait a minute. I know you and your sister are close, but even you didn’t know how worried she’s been about him. Am I right?”

  I took a couple of seconds to think about this. “Okay. You’re right. I guess I don’t know everything.” I could feel tears stinging my eyes. “We tell each other everything. Or at least I thought so. And I had no idea Kendall was being bullied to the point of crying.”

  “Exactly. Let me do my job and whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Together. So, what time tonight? Would it be better if I drive myself and meet you there? Or can you stand to be in the same car with me?” John had a slight smile tugging at his lips.

  “Be home by six. But I’m driving,” I said.

  “Fine.” He bent closer to me and kissed my cheek. “I do love you, you know. And your whole crazy family, too.”

  “You mean that?”

  He stood and touched my shoulder. “God help me.”

  Chapter 20

  Of course he was right. I had no idea what was going on with my sister and there was no better time to find out than now. I headed my car toward the office and parked in the back next to Sam’s car. I walked into the office, said good morning to Millie and Marla, and headed straight for Sam’s office.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  Sam straightened some things on her desk and looked at me. “Okay. What’s up? Did John tell you I’m free? I’m so happy. Mortified that I was being filmed the entire time I was acting like a fool, but at least my alibi was confirmed.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me Kendall was being bullied by Moshi? And why did I just in the last couple of days find out that you and Michael are having problems?”

  My sister had her hair pulled back into a high pony tail again, and a strand had dislodged itself from the band and hung down across her forehead. I would love to emulate this style, but with thin, very short hair, that was out of the question.

  “I didn’t know Michael and I were having problems. I’m not sure we are. He seems just fine when he comes home, almost giddy at times. I just don’t know where he is most of the day, and he’s giving me the runaround whenever I ask. As for Kendall, well, she and Moshi were close before Jenna died. As long as Jenna was around, Moshi was fine. If her father dropped her off at school, she became a brat. He let her get away with everything. Anyway, since Jenna died, Moshi’s been out of control and she’s been pushing Kendall around. And she got very angry over the part in the play. But, like I told Kendall, the girl’s mother just died. We need to give her time to come to grips with that. Afterward, I was hoping one of the teachers would be able to sort Vic out or at least Maddi, Moshi’s aunt, would step in and take control. I wasn’t condoning Moshi’s behavior, I was just giving her time.”

  “But Michael was really upset about it?” I asked.

  “Fathers and daughters. You remember. Mom was so strict and Dad, well, we had him twisted around our little fingers, didn’t we?”

  I laughed. “Yes we did. Still do.”

  “Exactly. Michael was just, well, pissed that Kendall was being mistreated, and by someone she considered a good friend. But the truth is I think he was projecting some of his anger with Vic onto Moshi.”

  “Did Michael ever confront Victor and tell him to knock it off?”

  “Not that I know of. I convinced him to give the whole family time to mourn, get back on their feet, and then we would sit down with Victor and tell him to knock off the inappropriate behavior with me, and help Moshi work through her anger issues over losing her mother.”

  “So what are you going to do about Michael? Do you still want me to find out what he’s up to?” I wasn’t sure if John had mentioned that Michael was now in his sights and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Sam.

  “Hmmm. I don’t know. If you hear something, then sure, let me know, but you don’t have to go out of your way. I’d rather you find out who killed Victor, and find out if Victor killed Jenna. Michael’s clearly up to something, but he’ll tell me in his own good time. Or I’ll hire someone to follow him and break his legs.”

  Sam laughed and so did I. I had Shirley doing exactly that, but I had no plans to share that information with my sister. Best to wait until I had some good news to give her. Besides, she obviously felt better about Michael than she had on Wednesday, so I thought I’d leave her be for now.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re not going to jail, although orange is the new black, and you have always looked lovely in that color.”

  “It does suit my skin tone, doesn’t it?”

  I left my sister to get back to work. I had a few things of my own to take care of, and then I wanted to check in with Shirley, because I really wanted to find out what my brother-in-law was up to before the police issued a manhunt.

  Chapter 21

  About eight-thirty Millie came in to tell me that Mrs. Cumberland had made an appointment and was very anxious to start working with Always Prepared.

  “Well, that’s very nice, but who is Mrs. Cumberland?” It wasn’t like Millie to come into my office and announce every new potential candidate that came through the door, or in this case, called on the phone.

  “She said she knows you. You told her to call. You had tea with her yesterday. Any of this ringing a bell for you, Alex?” Millie said with a smirk.


  “Oh, right! Suzette!”

  “That’s the one.”

  “She seems like a nice lady. Lots of experience. Put her through everything we have. I think she might be a real asset for executive assistant positions.”

  “You got it.” Millie turned and left.

  So Suzette had already called. She must really want out of Connecticut Custom Homes, or maybe her husband just wanted her to be home more often.

  I took a couple of hours to finish up some work and then called Shirley. She said she had just been about to call me, so we agreed to meet up at Oceanic again for an early lunch. My piece of toast for breakfast was eaten hours ago and I was hungry. I hung up the phone slowly. Was I just imagining it or did Shirley sound somber? Maybe she was just having a bad day.

  I poked my head into my sister’s office and told her I was headed out, and would see her tomorrow when I went by to pick up the kids. With any luck, Shirley would have some good news about Michael’s whereabouts that I could share with my sister.

  I expected Oceanic to be a lot more crowded, but maybe it being a Friday and summer, people were at the beach or off to more exotic locales.

  Once again, I arrived before Shirley, but she was coming from Westport. I found a table and looked through the small lunch menu. Oceanic was basically a café, but had a few sandwiches, salads, and a soup of the day to bring in the lunch crowd. I had just decided on tortilla soup and half of an avocado-and-bacon sandwich when Shirley came in.

  “Gosh it feels good in here. My air conditioner needs some coolant added or whatever it is that makes the thing colder. So, what looks good?”

  I told Shirley what I was getting and we went to the counter to place our orders.

  “We’ll bring it to your table when it’s ready,” a perky young woman in a pair of tan shorts and an Oceanic T-shirt said.

  We took our iced teas and went back to our table. As soon as she took a sip, Shirley got right to it.