It wasn’t just because Dennis was mean. Mari Beth thought Capri was too nice.
“I’m assuming that T. S. Elliot is a fake name,” Tony said.
“It could be,” Capri admitted. “I mean, it might be real, but let’s say it was. Injustice League is the ultimate guy book. No way we’d release it as being by T. S. Elliot. Not even if readers didn’t get it. Even if it weren’t true, it would imply the author is a woman to anyone with a clue.”
“So what would you do?”
“We’d ask the author to use a pseudonym.”
“Have you read the book?”
Capri shook her head.
“I just heard the buzz about it. I don’t even know how we got the book.”
He stood with his back to her, studying her insulation, slash, slush pile.
“Why aren’t your submissions electronic? Wouldn’t that be easier than all these piles of paper?”
“That’s the way it’s always been done and Dennis didn’t want to change when he took over the chief spot, even though it’s like so last century. I think it was just to annoy the authors. And me. Once we accept a book, then we request an electronic file. Now that I’m acting chief, I’ll make electronic subs standard.”
“So, if the author resubmits, the book isn’t really lost?”
“Not if he resubmits.” She frowned. If Elliot pulled the book, all kinds of brown stuff was going to hit the fan. And he might if he thought they lost it. She’d have to make sure Mari Beth didn’t tell him or her they lost his or her book.
How could Mose Milton have pitched the book to his Hollywood contact when they didn’t have a signed contract? And why was she asking herself why Mose Milton did what he did? She needed to see Mari Beth’s file, which meant a visit to the lion’s den. Because if Mari Beth wouldn’t trot down to Mose Milton’s office with the file, she sure wasn’t coming her way.
Interesting that Mose Milton let her turn him down.
And sad how little Dennis’s death had impacted the office workings. If he hadn’t misplaced Injustice League, there’d have been no impact at all.
“Do you have any theories or suspects?” she asked, more out of guilt than real interest. She’d be hard pressed not to contribute to the murderer’s defense fund—unless Mose Milton managed to wiggle out of giving her a raise.
“Did you know Ducumb wasn’t gay?”
Okay, so she wasn’t that surprised. Maybe she’d wondered if he was bi.
“His mama would love to know that.”
“Enough to turn Ducumb into a killer?”
Capri had met his mama. Once. Never wanted to meet her again. Mari Beth claimed the prospective wife was cut from the same mold, maybe a little worse. Of course she also mixed her metaphors.
Capri shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, though I can’t see him getting that worked up.” She was having a hard time wrapping her brain around Mose Milton getting worked up enough to get personal with Merleen. He was so…lazy.
“Anyone else Duckla might have been blackmailing?”
“Possibly everyone but me and Mari Beth. He steered clear of her. But he didn’t have to have anything on you to make your life miserable. He was just so…nasty. I’d not see him for a while and forget and get on his wrong side and…” She shuddered. “He didn’t have any boundaries. He’d do whatever.”
“And what did he want you to do?”
Capri sighed. “He wanted me to edit Injustice League and give him credit. I told him no.”
“Would that have ended it?”
Capri sighed. “No. He would have got his way eventually. I knew it. He knew it.” She looked Tony. “I didn’t kill him so I could edit a book.” She hoped he believed her. How did you prove you didn’t do something?
“Do you get a percentage of the sales?”
“Only if we ghost write it.” At least that was one point in her favor. She had no financial gain from Dennis’s demise. Except her pitiful raise.
“Do you know anyone who did stand to gain financially from his death?”
“Mari Beth might know. She handled the HR stuff.”
Tony had the niggling feeling he was missing something. As he followed Capri to Mari Beth’s office, he tried to mentally review what he’d learned, instead of staring at her butt. At least BT was off trying to track down the plant lady. He’d have noticed Tony watching her butt. He noticed everything he shouldn’t and not much he should.
Mari Beth’s office was an odd contrast to the quirkiness of the others. It was bright, modern, very clean and also warm. But that might be because of her west facing office and the sun setting in the west. When Mari Beth turned as they entered, Tony was surprised to see her wearing sunglasses.
The office also had the rumored plants scattered about the wall, filling the air with their scent. And what appeared to be the missing plant lady.
She was holding a watering can. She was dressed completely in green. Hovering by the plants.
Tony looked a little closer. It might be the light, but it almost looked like her blonde hair had been tinted green, too. It was probably a coincidence she had pale, green eyes that blinked down at him from behind tiny, square glasses. She was shaped like an inverted tulip, all hips, really long body and not much else.
“You the plant lady?” Nothing like asking the obvious, Tony decided.
She nodded. Tony showed her his badge while he tried to figure out what to ask her. Oh well, start with the basics.
“Could I get your name?”
“Rose Flowers. Did I do something wrong?” She looked anxiously at a row of thriving plants.
“You know we’re investigating Mr. Duckla’s death?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Her pale eyes widened with alarm. “He didn’t have plants.” She said it, as if that were the key argument.
Which it might have been.
“Did you ever have contact with Mr. Duckla?”
“I told you, he didn’t, he wouldn’t have plants.”
“That’s not what I asked. Did you ever bump
