Mack Reynolds

The Second Mystery Megapack


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card statements. Got some billable calls to a financial consulting firm. They’re not in the phonebook, though.”

      Slick Danny grabbed the folder off my desk, thumbed through the file. “Man, Michael, you got this much info on the guy already?”

      I looked up from Sandra’s datebook. “Not that hard between the Internet and cross-referencing some databases—”

      “No need to tell me the details. You just keep doin’ what you do best.” He slipped the Hillard folder into his desk drawer.

      I went back to the datebook.

      “So, why’d you have me ask Freedmont if his fiancée was athletic?” Slick Danny leaned back in his chair.

      “Fishing for facts.” It didn’t take me long to find several entries marked “E. Peterson—LS.” I dialed the Leukemia Society. Hung up. “Uh, Slick Danny, will you call the Leukemia Society for me, ask for an E. Peterson?”

      “What for?” He held up his hand. “I know, I know, fishin’ for facts. Can’t you call?”

      I felt my tic start, but picked up the phone anyway. I could do this.

      “Wait. I’ll do it. You’ll just make a mess of it.”

      While he dialed, I pulled a chair to his desk and looked over the Sudoku.

      “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he said to a receptionist, his accent growing several shades thicker. “I’m looking for a person named Peterson. A friend passed along the number, but I done lost it. First name begins with an “E.” Can you help me? Mhmm. So it’s Ms. Peterson?” He scribbled some notes on a pad of paper. “Well, I surely do thank you, ma’am. You’ve made my day a whole lot brighter.”

      He hung up the phone and passed Ms. Peterson’s number to me.

      “Piece of cake.” He snapped his fingers.

      “Yeah.” I handed him the finished puzzle.

      “Hey, how’d you…”

      I smiled. “Want to make one more call for me?”

      * * * *

      Monday, 10:29 A.M.

      Slick Danny had set up an appointment for me with Ms. Peterson. She turned out to be the Leukemia Society’s assistant volunteer coordinator. We recognized each other instantly. She stood between me and the door, her tiny office suddenly feeling unbearably cramped.

      “Well, well,” she said, “looky here. If it isn’t the Digital Delights guy,” her voice even huskier than I remembered. “Thought your name sounded familiar.”

      She closed the office door with a click.

      “Just so you don’t duck out again,” she said.

      I flushed, the heat burning like fire and making my cheek jump.

      “I-I won’t, I mean, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

      “And tell me again who you are, Mr. Blontine.” She looked me up and down, but didn’t move from in front of the door. “I’m guessing you don’t really work at Digital Delights.”

      “I’m a friend,” I said. Slick Danny told me not to let on about being a PI. Couldn’t let it get back to Montebella I was here. Not until I had the facts. “I can’t tell you more than that.”

      “You sounded different on the phone. Where’s your southern accent?”

      “Oh no, that was my partner. He calls for me.”

      Her eyes widened. “Didn’t realize you were gay. You don’t seem like it. Although that would make sense—”

      “G-Gay? We’re not g-g-gay,” I said. “We’re…friends.” Was she trying to trick me?

      Evania smiled, her teeth bright white. “You a stalker, Mike? You like thin, married blondes?”

      “N-n-no. I don’t go out with married women. Blondes are okay. Not too crazy about skinny, but if she’s nice—”

      Evania snapped her fingers. “Hey, Mike, focus here. What’s your interest in Sandra?”

      “Huh?” I scratched my head. “I just want to help Sandra, uh, Mrs. Montebella, that’s all.” Why couldn’t Slick Danny have come? He knew I was no good with people.

      “You can help her?” She moved so close our bodies practically touched. Evania’s spicy perfume tickled my nose, and I took a step back.

      I nodded. “I think so.”

      “Why would you do that,” she asked, arms crossed over her chest. “Why do you care?”

      “I know she’s innocent.” What else could I say?

      She looked at me for a long time. “I must be crazy,” she muttered. “Lord, save me from tall, handsome men.” She moved behind her desk, pointed me to a chair.

      I sat.

      “So what do you want to know about her?” she asked.

      I glanced at my notebook, reading the questions Slick Danny had scribbled.

      “What did she do for you? She seemed to spend a lot of time here.”

      “Sure did. One of our best volunteers. I wanted her to join our board.”

      “Know why she was interested in the Leukemia Society?”

      “Brother died from it. Broke her heart. She wanted to be his marrow donor, but she wasn’t a match. Tragic, really. That woman could have been bitter, but instead she volunteers here. Even became a marrow donor couple years ago. Know how painful that procedure is?”

      “Uh, no.” I looked at my notebook. Stick to the questions Slick Danny said. Don’t get distracted. “Was organizing walks one of her duties?”

      “Yeah, she helped with some of that. Raised money for us by throwing big dinner parties. Visited patients waiting for transfusions. Did office work on occasion. Why? How’s that relate to murder?”

      “Not sure it does.” I checked my notes again. “I heard she was arrested for trespassing and assault. Makes some people think she could be capable of murder.”

      “Oh, puleez.” Evania shot to her feet. “Mr. Blontine, there was no assault. The police came to break up a march she was involved in. They started pushing the protestors around. Sandra stood up for them. Mouthed off a little. Got herself arrested. She didn’t do anything. That’s why the charges were dropped.” She sat back down, smoothed some papers on her desk. “I don’t know what your interest is in Sandra, but if you can help her, I’d be grateful.”

      I nodded. “Do you think her husband could have something to do with it?”

      She frowned. “Richard is capable of anything. She should have left him a long time ago. But, you know, they’ve got children together. Took me a long time to leave my bum of an ex for the same reason. A woman doesn’t want to break up her family, you understand?”

      “Sure.” I didn’t, but I’d take her word for it. Women’s motivations are not my strong point.

      “You married? Got kids?”

      “N-no.” I couldn’t help stammering around her. Something about her husky voice.

      “Not surprised, Mike. Just a tip—women do not like being run out on.”

      I stared at my shoes. Man, I was a jerk.

      “I’m no good with women,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

      Silence hung between us for more than a minute.

      Evania sighed.

      I looked up.

      She flashed that big-toothed smile again. “Well,