Killer Deal Read Free Page B

there’s anything I can do, any door
I can open,” Emile said, squeezing my shoulder as gently as he’d squeezed my hand.
    “Thank you, I will,” I said, already brainstorming on how to give Eileen and Emile what they wanted while doing what I wanted. I would find a way.
    “You understand what I need here,” Eileen said flatly when she returned from escorting Emile to the elevator. I was waiting in her office, despite her new assistant’s efforts to bodily remove me from the sofa—if you can call it that. Sculpted slab would be more accurate. Eileen’s office is decorated like Andy Warhol and Yoko Ono attempted to set up housekeeping together. Everything’s bright and shiny and bold and there isn’t a single comfortable spot to sit in the whole place.
    “An interview with Gwen Lincoln that mentions both the new perfume and the Garth Henderson murder, in that order,” I answered. She gestured for me to elaborate. “And that points to the distinct possibility of her innocence in the latter,” I continued gingerly.
    “Good girl.”
    Not to bite the hand that was suddenly feeding me, but I had to ask. “What if she’s not innocent?”
    “Then you can have the cover.”
    I wasn’t expecting that. “Didn’t you tell your new buddy we’d do an article to help his friend and partner?”
    Eileen leaned against her desk and swatted at her bangs again. “Molly,” she said, her impatience moving from vinegar to venom, “haven’t you ever said something to a man just to make him go away?”
    “Millions of times. I turn them away in droves.”
    “Oops. Didn’t schedule time for you to try and be funny this afternoon. You’d better go.” She slithered behind her desk and perched in front of her computer. Not to do any work, just to remove me from her line of sight.
    But I wasn’t going anywhere without more information. I had to know my boundaries, especially if I was going to push them. “But you did tell him we’d write an article to help Gwen Lincoln.”
    “I did not. I told him we’d write an article about Gwen
Lincoln. Now, if he made poor assumptions about the contents and point of view, just because he thinks she’s innocent, he’s really the one in the wrong, wouldn’t you say?”
    “So I have latitude here to consider her potentially guilty and investigate accordingly.”
    Her icy green eyes slid in my direction for a moment, then zipped back to the screen. “Theoretically, but I doubt it will even be an issue. Why don’t we just wait and see if you get that far?”
    The wave of adrenaline I’d been surfing dumped me on my head. Distracted by the potential of this article, I’d stopped considering Eileen’s point of view. “You’re assuming I won’t come up with anything.”
    “I’m demanding that you come up with an interview. Beyond that, Molly, I won’t be holding my breath.”
    I knew that was less a statement about Gwen Lincoln than one about me, but I tried not to rise to the bait. “If I’m going to touch on the murder at all, I’m going to have to look into it. I want to go into this interview armed with facts and no preconceived notion of anyone’s guilt or innocence.”
    “If that’s your process, so be it. Honestly, Molly, this little hobby of yours is cute, though rather twisted, but let’s pause a moment and be realistic, shall we? Garth Henderson isn’t some corpse you’re related to. This is a high-profile murder that has stymied the police. It’s out of your league.”
    So Eileen’s real issue raised its catty little head. She thought I was incapable of solving this mystery because I didn’t have any personal connection to the crime, as I had in my previous articles. She was, in her own twisted way, telling me I couldn’t do it. Which is a sentiment I take as a challenge.
    “I’ll do it anyway.”
    Eileen studied me for a long moment, then let her face slide into a sickly, curling smile like the Grinch looking down on Whoville. “I had no