Father’s Day Murder by Leslie Meier

jewelry, but it dressed up quite nicely for the city with her black patent pumps and a ladylike string of faux pearls.
    Well, maybe it was a bit casual, but it would have to do, she decided as she dabbed on some pink lipstick and gave her hair one last lick with the brush. Her only other option was the black dress she wore to funerals, and tonight was a night of celebration, not mourning.
    There was only one chore remaining before she could head to the party—she wanted to call home. This time the phone was answered on the first ring by Bill, who proudly announced he was in the kitchen fixing dinner.
    â€œWhere were you last night?” demanded Lucy, surprised at how upset she felt. “I called and nobody answered.”
    â€œWe were over at the Orensteins’. Sadie’s mom invited the whole family for a cookout.”
    â€œThat was awfully nice of her,” said Lucy, feeling rather left out. Juanita Orenstein was the mother of Zoe’s best friend, Sadie. She was a warm, caring person, and the invitation was typical of her. Juanita wasn’t much on cleaning house, but she wouldn’t think anything of inviting five extra people for dinner. So why this little stab of jealousy, as if Juanita were trying to take over her family?
    â€œYeah. I took over the hamburgers you left for us and she had some stuff, too. She makes terrific potato salad. So how’s the conference?”
    Lucy didn’t know how to answer. In only one day she’d had so many experiences and had met so many new people. It would take hours to tell him all about it.
    â€œSo far, so good,” she said. “How are things at home?”
    â€œFine. No problems at all.”
    Lucy wanted to believe him, but she was doubtful.
    â€œSo things are okay with you and Toby? You were both pretty upset when I left.”
    â€œOh, that.” Bill’s tone was dismissive. “That was nothing. He’s doing fine. He’s a real asset on the job.”
    â€œDid you say ‘asset’?”
    â€œYeah. What did you think I said?”
    Lucy let it go.
    â€œHow’s Elizabeth’s job working out?”
    â€œGreat.”
    This didn’t sound like Elizabeth. “No complaints?”
    â€œNot that I’ve heard.”
    It might be true, conceded Lucy. It was only her first day on the job. And Bill was getting a bit hard of hearing.
    â€œSara and Zoe? How are they doing?”
    â€œFine, fine. Zoe’s taking care of Kudo, feeding him and all that. And Sara’s been a big help.”
    And hell’s freezing over, thought Lucy, who remembered Sara’s lack of enthusiasm when Lucy had first announced she was going to the convention. And Zoe had always been afraid of the huge dog.
    â€œWhat are you doing for supper tonight? More potato salad?”
    Now where did that come from? Besides, Lucy knew for a fact that Juanita put too much mayonnaise in her potato salad. No wonder Bill liked it. He liked anything so long as it was loaded with cholesterol.
    â€œI’m going to make a stir-fry, soon as I find the wok.”
    â€œIt’s in the pantry. Top shelf.” Lucy heard a sudden shriek in the background, as if the girls were fighting. “Are you sure everything’s okay? I thought I heard Zoe scream.”
    â€œNo, no, just the TV,” insisted Bill. “Well, I guess I’d better get started cooking. Don’t worry about a thing. Everything’s under control.”
    The poor fool, thought Lucy, as she tucked her key card and banquet ticket into her tiny evening bag. He probably did think he had things under control. It was only an illusion, of course. He’d find out soon enough.
    Â 
    The mezzanine was crowded when the elevator door opened, and Lucy joined the crowd of conferees, most of whom were milling about with drinks in their hands and talking at the top of their lungs. She would have loved a glass of wine, but the crowd clustered around the