Nina’s hand waved under my nose and pointed to the memo line of the check.
Natasha had written, “payment in full.”
I left my meager check under the coaster so the cats wouldn’t dislodge it right away and relied on Nina to slip Natasha’s letter back in the envelope. I needn’t have worried about Mrs. Pulchinski observing us. She slumped on the couch, the only sign of life the hand that held a cigarette inches from her mouth.
“Have the police found your husband’s killer yet?” asked Nina.
I nearly choked. She might as well have introduced me as the number one suspect. Mrs. Pulchinski would catch on for sure and throw us out of her home.
“They think it’s some woman he was checking out, but I got my doubts. My Otis had smarts. Not many people ever fooled him. I think Otis come up against somebody as crafty as he was.”
Certain she would make the connection between me and the police suspect, I hurried to wind up our visit by promising to take good care of Mochie.
Mrs. Pulchinski walked us to the door. “Thank you for coming by. I don’t get many visitors. This meant a lot to me.”
The door shut behind us and I felt terrible. The poor woman was distraught and we’d come to snoop.
Nina clutched my arm. “Can you believe it? Natasha’s up to her neck in these murders. No wonder she was so quick to point her finger at you! We have to tell the police right away.”
“If they have Otis’s computer, don’t you think they know already?”
We slid into the deep leather seats of her Jaguar and she started the engine. “You heard her. He didn’t keep records on his clients.”
Years of competing with Natasha left me with an instinct to malign her. I was hardly her best advocate. She was annoying; she thought she was always right and that she knew best. But I couldn’t imagine her as a murderer. She was a perfectionist, harder on herself than those around her.
“I don’t know. Natasha always does the right thing. Like sending a lovely note and payment in full to a widow who needs the money. That’s typical Natasha. Everyone else will drag their feet paying the dead guy, but Natasha always does the right thing.”
Nina glanced over at me. “What if she thought killing someone was the right thing? What if someone threatened Mars?”
Would she kill to protect Mars? She had implied as much. It just didn’t add up for me. “Now you’re grasping because you don’t like Natasha.”
Nina braked for a light. “Anybody other than Mars get sick at Thanksgiving?”
She had a point.
We turned right and familiar broad shoulders came into view. On the sidewalk in front of my favorite bakery, Wolf and Kenner were engaged in a heated discussion. I felt like ducking so Kenner wouldn’t see me. No need, though, he wouldn’t notice me seated in a car driving by.
Nina swung the Jaguar into a parking spot.
“What are you doing?”
She nodded toward Wolf and Kenner. “I know that detective. He might tell us what’s going on in the investigation.”
I shrank down in my seat. “Which one do you know?”
“The good-looking one. You should meet him. All the women who volunteer at the animal shelter are crazy about him.” Nina opened the car door and called to Wolf.
Swell. “Nina,” I said, “Wolf is the detective on my case.”
It was too late. Wolf strode toward us. Reluctantly, I opened the car door and eased out.
“Nina Reid Norwood. I should have known it would only be a matter of time until you turned up involved in this mess.” Wolf shoved his hands into his pockets.
Nina held her head in a coy tilt. “Sophie happens to be completely innocent and embarrassingly available.”
I wanted to melt into the sidewalk.
“Thanks for clearing that up. I’ll scratch her off the suspect list immediately,” Wolf said with a grin.
Evidently they had known each other long enough to kid around. I hoped he’d think the part about me being available was a joke.
Nina straightened up. “Natasha’s the guilty party.”
Amusement faded from Wolf’s face. “And you know that how?”
Nina ticked off reasons on her fingers. “She hired Pulchinski. She had the opportunity when Simon was killed and when Mars was poisoned. All we need is her motive.”
“How do you know Natasha hired Pulchinski?”
Like a college girl flirting with her professor, Nina gave him a sly look and said, “We’ve been doing a little sleuthing on our own.”
“You two stay out of this. Sophie’s in deep enough trouble already and I don’t need either of you mucking up my investigation. Is that clear?”
“What happened with the turkey trophy?” I asked.
“Wiped clean. No fingerprints. We’re still running tests to see if there’s blood on it anywhere.”
“On the tail.”
“Right now we only have your word on that. We don’t even know for sure if it was the murder weapon.”
“What about Mars? Was there poison in his soup?” My heart pounded. I didn’t really want to hear the answer to that question.
“Don’t have the results yet.” He motioned over his shoulder. “I have to get back to Kenner. You two stay out of trouble.”
We slid into the Jaguar. Despite the distance, I could tell Kenner’s face had gone beet red again. Even if Wolf thought I might be innocent, the mere sight of me agitated Kenner.
Nina pulled her Jag into the traffic. “When this is over, you really should go out with Wolf. He’s gorgeous and nice, too. A regular down at the animal shelter. Donates dog and cat kibble twice a month.”
“If he’s so great, how come no one has grabbed him?”
“Oh, that. It’s just gossip, but the story goes that he was married and then he . . .”
Her voice drifted into a mumble.
“And then what?”
She took a deep breath. “And then he murdered his wife.”
“Very funny.”
“I told you it’s just gossip. No one really knows what happened to her.”
“You’re serious? Something happened to his wife?”
“We know he was married. He doesn’t wear his ring anymore and his wife isn’t around.”
“They call that ‘divorce,’ Nina.”
“And he’s not divorced. Either she ran off or she’s buried in his basement.”
“And you want me to go out with him? What a great friend.”
“He can’t really be a killer; he wouldn’t still be on the police force.”
“Who would know better how to get away with murder than a homicide detective?” I asked.