Murder Most Persuasive

silent.

After pouring a large cup, adding cream and sugar, and drinking enough to jump-start my brain, I was capable of conversation. “So, any chance a good night’s sleep made you see logic and abandon this absurd idea of going to see Donny Mancuso? A man, by the way, who sounds like an extra from The Sopranos.”

Ann didn’t bother to look up. “Nope.”

I sighed. “Thought so.”

Ann kept reading the paper. Suddenly, she gave a startled gasp.

“What?” I asked.

“Reggie was right,” she said, tapping the paper. “The gossip page has everything about the discovery of Michael’s body and Reggie’s relationship with him.”

I leaned over her shoulder to read. It was the Post’s “Reliable Source” column. “Do they call her a black widow?” I asked.

“No, thank God, but she’s going to freak when she sees this.”

I had just taken another sip of coffee when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” I said to Ann, as I padded down the hallway with Scarlett right behind me. Swinging open the door, I was surprised to see Kit standing on the front steps. She was wearing maternity jeans and a blue polo shirt and a smug smile. In her hands was a large casserole dish. Scarlett was interested in neither and so turned back to return to the kitchen.

“Hey, Kit! I didn’t know you were coming over this morning,” I said in surprise.

“I promised Ann that I would bring her a meal, remember? You aren’t the only cousin who is capable of helping,” she said as she pushed past me into the house.

“I never said I was,” I began.

She ignored me. “And besides, if Ann needs help organizing Uncle Marty’s things, I’m the one who should be helping her. Everyone knows how disorganized you are.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Kit wasn’t finished. Shifting the dish in her hands, she smiled slyly at me. “Unless, of course, you aren’t really here to help her organize. The way I look at it, whether or not you are here to help organize, Ann needs real help in that department. So I decided to offer my services.”

I stared at her, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. She was actually so upset Ann had asked me for help and not her that she simply decided to barge in and foist herself on us using what smelled to be chicken piccata as cover. I paused. Kit’s chicken piccata was really good. “But what about Pauly? Who’s watching him?” I asked.

“I hired one of the neighborhood girls to babysit him.”

From the kitchen, Ann called out, “Elizabeth? Who is it?” A second later she appeared in the foyer, coffee cup in hand. Surprise registered on her face when she saw Kit. “Kit! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Kit let out a little laugh. “Everything is fine, silly. Didn’t I promise you that I would bring you some food?” Kit held out the glass dish as proof. “I made you my chicken piccata.”

Ann politely accepted the dish. “Oh, Kit, that was very kind of you. But really, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

Kit brushed this away. “Don’t be silly. It was no trouble at all. Besides, I love to cook.” I shot Kit a pointed look. This love of cooking was certainly news to me, as she had told me just two days ago that cooking dinner had become “a gastric nightmare” for her due to the pregnancy. Gastric nightmare, my ass. Then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she added, “Hey, Elizabeth was telling me you needed help organizing all of Uncle Marty’s things. I’m actually free today. Why don’t I help? After all, family should come together in times like these,” she said sweetly.

My teeth began a slow grind. She wasn’t fooling me for a minute. The only motivation behind the chicken piccata was to make sure that I wasn’t “playing detective,” as she’d so sneeringly referred to it a few days ago. On the slight chance that I wasn’t doing just that (no comment, thank you very much), she decided to try and show me up with her superior organizational and cooking skills. I didn’t know whether to laugh at her or smack her upside her smug little head.

Okay, who was I kidding? I knew exactly which one I preferred.

I squeezed my hand shut to ensure better self-control and shot Ann a look of frustration. To her credit, Ann did not appear nonplussed at Kit’s offer. Instead, she smiled brightly and said, “Well, Kit, that’s very sweet of you. But I think we have everything under control here. Actually, we were getting ready to run an errand or two. But since you’re free today, how about we all meet later for lunch?”

As far as dodges go, it was nicely done. Unfortunately, it didn’t fool Kit for a second. Over the years Kit has become quite an expert at thwarting dodges. “Don’t be silly,” she said firmly. “Since I’m already here, why don’t I just go on the errands with you?”

“It’s a long ride,” I ventured.

“I adore long rides,” she said, giving me a smile that offered me a view of the majority of her teeth. It was a little like being smiled at by a piranha who’d been afforded excellent dentistry. “Besides, it’ll give Ann and me a chance to catch up,” she continued. “So where are we going?”

Ann’s smile dimmed a bit. “Um, well, Bonnie was thinking about updating the pool out back a bit. I promised to get her some quotes while she was gone.”

Kit’s perfectly groomed brows pulled together in confusion. “She isn’t going to use Uncle Marty’s business?”

“Um, probably. I mean, most likely. She just thought it would be interesting to see what else is out there.”

Kit didn’t respond at first. I could practically see her mind’s gears furiously twisting and turning as she tried to work out why Bonnie wouldn’t use the family business to update the pool. She had suspected our errand had something to do with the investigation. Finally she spread her hands and said, “Well, lead the way. I’m at your disposal. You’ve got me for the whole day.”

The whole day? The very thought made me want to lie down in the fetal position. Although Kit truly wanted to help Ann, she also just as sincerely wanted to make herself look better in comparison to me. That meant she’d spend a fair amount of time trying to score points off me. I sighed. Spending the whole day with Kit when she was in one of these moods was like a sudden attack of the twenty-four-hour flu. You knew it was only temporary, but it was sheer hell while it lasted.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, we piled into Ann’s car and set out for Rockville, Maryland, and Donny’s pool company. Figuring that he’d probably be in the office on a Saturday, she decided to try there first. Like she did with Kit, Ann planned to pretend that she was just getting some quotes about updating the pool at Uncle Martin’s. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, but as I could neither talk her out of it nor come up with a better one, it was the one we were stuck with.

As we drove, Kit entertained us with every aspect of her pregnancy thus far (and trust me, there was no detail considered too trivial to mention). To hear her, you would think she was the first of our species to reproduce. My only solace was that she couldn’t act as if this baby was the second coming since she had done that the first time. I think there’s a rule that you are allowed to give birth to only one Messiah. Fortunately, her conversation didn’t necessitate participation from Ann or me. Kit talks a great deal but very seldom requires a response.

We found Donny’s office with little trouble and parked the car in an adjacent parking lot. The building itself was rather nondescript: a redbrick exterior with a green-and-white awning over the glass door. A blue neon sign in the window read MANCUSO’S POOL SYSTEMS.

“My goodness,” said Kit as she stepped out of the car, “this certainly is a long way to go to get additional quotes. How did you ever hear of this place, Ann?”

“Oh, you know,” Ann answered vaguely, “word of mouth.”

Kit eyed Ann and then the store dubiously. “Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

With an air of determination, Ann crossed the small parking lot and pushed open the store door. A bell attached to the back of the door announced our arrival. A low teak table to our right held numerous brochures that seemed to equate pools with a better life. Four matching teak chairs, each with a green-and-white seat cushion, surrounded the table. A young woman sat at the receptionist desk, her round face exhibiting evidence of massive