A Secondhand Murder Read Free Page A

feeling my cheeks heat up at the word. “Um, PI,” I amended. Alex Montgomery, the card read. Investigations.
    As he extended his hand to shake mine, the polo rider on his turquoise knit shirt galloped ahead several paces, propelled by well-developed pecs.
    â€œ You are the proprietor of this establishment. Right?”
    â€œ Along with my partner here.” I motioned to Madeleine, who moved closer to the counter to stand next to him.
    She looked up into his eyes, blinked once and sighed. “Madeleine Boudreau.” She stuck out her hand and hit the earring display rack on the counter, knocking it to the floor. As she bent to pick up the jewelry, PI Montgomery stooped to help her, and I could see trouble coming. I rushed around the counter and tried to push him out of the way. I was right to do so, for Madeleine’s rear end hit our display mannequin, which wobbled precariously on its one plastic leg (we’d picked up the model at a rummage sale for a buck—the other leg had been lost somewhere). As it plunged toward the floor, the long necklace Ms. Plastic was wearing flew over the PI’s head, the mannequin flipped around and Mr. Hottie found himself pinned to its silk-clad chest by a rope of ersatz pearls.
    â€œ Don’t move or you’ll strangle yourself. Madeleine, get up off that floor and ring up Mrs. Nile’s sale. I’ll take care of Mr. Montgomery.” Oh, how I want to take care of Mr. Montgomery.
    Mrs. Nile must have had the same thought. She appeared to have lost interest in the shorts set she had brought to the counter and was eyeing Mr. Montgomery (or Alex, as I wanted to think of him now) with the hunger of an alligator in a drought looking for a new breeding hole.
    I prevailed, probably because of my height. Also because I can be very commanding if I want to, and I wanted to at this moment. I pushed Mrs. Nile—I tried to push gently—toward Madeleine. “She’ll ring you up.” I turned back to my PI guy.
    â€œ Alex, uh, I mean, PI Montgomery, please remain calm. I’ll get you free in a moment.” Actually he looked both calm and amused. A sense of humor. Good. I like that in my men.
    I extracted him from the pearls while he righted the mannequin. I envied her the momentary closeness with my private eye. For once I wished I could emulate Madeleine’s awkwardness. I yearned to stumble straight into those strong arms.
    â€œ I think you were about to introduce yourself.” He cocked one eyebrow.
    â€œ Not really. You’re the investigator, so I assume you already know my name. Right?”
    He laughed. “Eve Appel, right? Like in Genesis.” So that flash of humor hadn’t been a momentary fluke.
    â€œ What can I do for you? You’re not here to buy your wife, girlfriend, life partner, date or significant other of either sex a gift, are you?” I covered all the bases.
    â€œ No. Actually I’d like to talk to both of you about what happened here yesterday.”
    â€œ How is that your concern?”
    Madeleine shoved me to one side. “Someone hired you to investigate the murder?” Eagerness to cooperate in any way possible was written all over her face, as was the desire to cook him dinner, ply him with wine and undress him in front of her fireplace. I shot her a look that said, “I saw him first, and I didn’t try to strangle him.”
    â€œ No. Actually, I was investigating Mrs. Sanders. Maybe the two of you can shed some light on her situation. She brought her clothes here for consignment. Isn’t that odd for a woman who had millions?”
    I shoved Madeleine to one side and pushed her behind me. “Are you suggesting this place isn’t a business the elite would frequent? Why not?” I placed my hands on my hips.
    â€œ Well, you do sell secondhand merchandise.”
    â€œ Classy, previously owned, high-end items.” Madeleine offered her usual sales pitch and