I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I was in a lousy mood and was finding it hard to cheer myself up. My apartment was still infested with mold. I was living with my bossy pregnant sister. I hated my job. My boyfriend was constantly traveling. Oh, and let’s not forget—my extended family was wrapped up in (another) murder investigation. Given all that, Sam’s invitation to get a drink and “shoot the shit” seemed a perfect idea. Glancing at my watch, I saw that I had enough time for a quick drink before I headed back to Ann’s.
We headed for the DC Grill, a little bar/restaurant down the street from the office. It’s not bad and it’s not great; mainly it’s convenient and sometimes that’s all you need for success. Sam and I headed to the crowded oak bar and ordered. As I still had to drive to Ann’s, I ordered a Diet Coke. Sam opted for a beer.
When our drinks came, I raised mine. “What shall we toast to? SHIT, my Uncle Marty, or both?”
Sam laughed. “I vote we toast Dickey. But don’t toast my glass. It’s bad luck to toast with a nonalcoholic drink.”
“Who told you that?”
“I don’t know, it’s just one of those things people don’t do.”
“By ‘people,’ I take it we’re referring to drunken frat boys?”
“Hey, drunken frat boys are people, too,” he said, pretending to look hurt.
“Yes, I believe that is the literal translation of Alpha Gamma Delta.”
Sam laughed at me. “That’s a sorority, not a fraternity.”
“Does it matter?”
“I take it you didn’t pledge.”
I shook my head and took a sip of my Diet Coke. “Nope. I went to an all-girls Catholic school. They don’t need sororities. It’s already one big giant sorority, complete with hazing and drunken pledges to be friends forever.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow at me. “You seem jaded.”
I dipped my head in acknowledgment. “Another by-product of the all-girl Catholic school experience.”
Sam started to say something when his attention was caught by someone behind my left shoulder. From his frankly appraising expression, it was an attractive someone.
“Who are you gaping at?” I asked, turning to scan the room. “Need I remind you that you are dating a lovely girl named Amanda?” While there were several attractive women in the bar, I instinctively knew which woman held his attention. She wore a backless tangerine dress that hugged every one of her curves. Her shapely tanned legs were supported by four-inch pumps, the kind with that sexy ankle strap. Her glossy black hair hung in heavy waves down her Nautilus-defined back. I knew it was a Nautilus-defined back, because I knew the owner of the back. It was none other than my cousin Reggie.
“That’s my cousin Reggie,” I said.
“Oh, yeah? I can see the resemblance,” said Sam with false politeness. I laughed outright at the absurdity of the idea. “Who’s that with her?” he asked. “Her husband?”
“No, she’s not married. At least she’s not currently married. That’s a status that frequently changes with her, though.” I craned to get a better look at the man on whose brawny arm Reggie now hung. He was tall, tan, and muscular. His dark hair was cut short, as was his beard. He was also no one I’d ever seen before. However, from the way they were talking, this did not appear to be a casual first meeting at a bar. His head was bent down low to hers. From their somber expressions, their conversation appeared anything but casual. My cell phone went off just then, preventing me from catching Reggie’s eye and waving hello. It was Peter. I turned my body toward the bar and pressed the phone against my ear so I could hear better.
“Hey, there. Where are you?” he said.
“I’m out having a drink. Then I’m going to head over to Ann’s. You wouldn’t believe the day I had. Dickey took over the day with another one of his harebrained ideas.”
“You have my sympathies. Who are you out with?”
“Sam. So get this—Dickey wants us to write a fluff piece each month of some local bigwig. Guess who he picked! Uncle Marty, that’s who! He’s got this really stupid acronym for it, too. He’s calling it Significant Humans in Town. So it’s basically SHIT.”
There was the briefest pause before he answered. “Sounds pretty dumb. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. I just thought I’d call and say hi. I’ve got to run back into a meeting. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Oh, okay. I’ll talk to you later then. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he said, but he said it kind of fast. I hung up wondering if Peter could actually be upset that I was out with Sam. I pushed the idea away, dismissing it as silly. Peter knew we were just friends; after all, Sam was the guy I went with to see those chick flicks that Peter couldn’t stomach. Looking back up for Reggie, I saw that both she and her date had left. The weird thing was, she would have had to walk right past me to get out. Had she not wanted to interrupt my phone conversation with Sam, or had she simply not wanted to be seen? Reggie had never been unfriendly toward me before, leaving me to wonder if her avoidance had more to do with the man than with me. God, I hoped he wasn’t married.
Traffic being what it was, it took me almost an hour to get to Uncle Marty’s house. Ann answered my knock almost instantly. “How are you doing?” I asked as I stepped into the foyer. She was wearing black tailored pants and a lightweight lavender cashmere sweater. This color normally looked great on her. However, today it would take more than a complementary hue from her color palette to liven up her ghostly complexion.
She shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. I got a message that the detective in charge of the case will be here around seven thirty. I called Reggie and Frances and told them everything. They said they’d be here to talk to him.”
“I actually just saw Reggie, but I don’t think she saw me,” I said. “How did she take the news?”
Ann shook her head. “I couldn’t tell, to be honest. She got very quiet. I’ll have a better idea once I see her.”
I glanced at my watch; it was a quarter to seven.
“Come on,” said Ann, “help me get the living room ready. I figured we could all sit in there.”
Within minutes, Ann and I had made what little adjustments were necessary. We brought in a few extra chairs and arranged them around the coffee table. Once done, Ann turned to me and said, “Do you think I should put out cheese and crackers or anything?”
I thought about it. “I don’t think so. A, we want this over as quickly as possible; no need to encourage the police to linger; B, we don’t want to appear like we’re not taking this seriously; and C, this isn’t a social meeting.”
“Agreed,” she said. “God, I could use a drink, but I doubt that’s a good idea. I should have my wits about me for this.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, giving her arm a friendly squeeze. “Once the police leave, I’ll take you out and buy you all the drinks you want.”
“Deal,” she said with a faint smile.
There was a brief knock on the door before it swung open. It was Reggie. There was nary a hint of distress on her perfectly made-up face. Looking calm and cool, she was wearing the same tangerine dress I saw her in earlier. The only difference was that she had pulled her hair back into a smooth, tight bun. She even made that look sexy.
Scarlett ran excitedly to the door. However, seeing that it was Reggie, she turned and walked away. Scarlett did not care for Reggie. Inasmuch as Reggie sneered when she saw the little dog, I assumed that the feeling was mutual. After a perfunctory greeting to me and Ann, Reggie said, “So I take it Bonnie went on her silly spa retreat anyway?”
“Yes,” said Ann. “I drove her to the airport this morning. She … she didn’t seem overly concerned about any of this.”
Reggie scoffed. “She wouldn’t be overly concerned if the house fell down around her, just so long as it didn’t interfere with her five o’clock martini. Is Frances here yet?”
“No,” said Ann, “but I expect her any minute. I thought we could use the living room for when the police come.”
Reggie nodded. “Right. Well, I may as well make myself comfortable. Is there any wine in the fridge, Ann?”
“Uh, yes, there’s some Chardonnay. Do you really think it’s a good idea to have a drink, though?”
