A Secondhand Murder by Lesley A. Diehl Page B

overbearing, and unpleasant?”
    â€œ Well that, of course, but mostly your looks.” Madeleine took a sip of her coke.
    â€œ My looks make people want to murder me?”
    â€œ No. I mean you look a lot alike.”
    â€œ You can’t mean Valerie and me.” My very best friend was insulting me, and, what’s worse, she was doing it in front of a man I found … interesting.
    â€œ She’s right. You and Valerie are similar in appearance. I mean, were similar.” Alex looked quite satisfied about getting Madeleine to side with him.
    How could the two of them compare my racy, unique, spot-on style to Valerie’s south Florida society matron guise? “How? How were we alike?”
    â€œ Don’t get your thong in a twist. What I think we mean,” Madeleine glanced at Alex for confirmation, “is that you were both unusually tall women with blonde hair. Of course, yours has black roots.”
    â€œ That’s intentional. It’s a look, not a mistake!” I was yelling now.
    â€œ You both hung around the consignment shop. If someone had hired a killer and given him or her a description, the killer could have mistaken Valerie for you.” Alex began peeling the label off his beer bottle with his thumb.
    I took a slug of my scotch. With the next swallow, I hit the bottom of my glass and started to chew my ice cubes. “That’s silly. Why would anyone—I mean serious now— anyone want me dead?”
    Madeleine rolled her eyes but kept quiet.
    Alex continued to build a pile of soggy label pieces on the table in front of him. “There’s your reluctance to give your husband a divorce.” He refused to meet my eyes.
    â€œ How would you know anything about that?”
    He concentrated on his thumb, then raised his eyes to mine. “It’s my business to know. That’s all I can tell you.” He stood and threw several bills on the table. “Drinks are on me. I gotta go.”
    As we watched him walk out, I caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. My mouth had fallen open so far a Humvee could have driven in. Madeleine looked the same.
    I grabbed my purse and ran after him. Madeleine was right behind me, but by the time we reached the parking lot, he was already pulling out, fast.
    â€œ That was so sweet of him,” said Madeleine.
    â€œ What was sweet? Paying for our drinks?”
    â€œ No. I think he was warning you to be careful. I think he likes you. A lot.”
    â€œ He was fingering Jerry, and that’s stupid. He can’t know anything about Jerry if he thinks Jerry would hire somebody to kill me, just to get me to finalize the divorce. Jerry’s a bit impulsive and impatient, but he’s no fool. Who would the authorities look for first if I died under unusual circumstances? Him, of course.”
    â€œ I’m sure you’re right.”
    I considered the possibility that Jerry had hired someone to kill me and rejected it. He was far too cheap to pay anyone to do that. A hit like that had to cost a lot of money, unless, of course, you hired some idiot who couldn’t tell a society matron from a flashy, sexy, displaced Connecticut know-it-all broad. I reconsidered. Now that sounded like something Jerry would do. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Jerry had never done any work that he could have gotten someone else to do for him, especially if the price was right. I wondered how much the bastard thought I was worth dead.

Chapter 7
    â€œ W e didn’t know Valerie all that well.” Madeleine’s tone of voice told me she was having second thoughts about being here. She squirmed around in a folding chair in the back of the room. The funeral director had set up several additional rows of chairs for Valerie’s service because the space had been filled beyond capacity.
    â€œ It’s the professional thing to do. Will you sit still?” I wanted to put my hand