A Body to die for

some stares along the way. I admit that my dress was, by now, unacceptable attire. Maybe they’d never seen a magenta-skinned woman before. But if I were them, I’d be a lot more embarrassed if I had one of those bowl haircuts.
    The man at the front desk had one. Around forty, he wore the standard short-sleeved white shirt and tie. I asked him to buzz Larry Black’s apartment. He scowled at me and didn’t do a thing. I also said that I’d scream at the top of my lungs until I got what I wanted. He nodded and pushed a button on the console. Max and I waited.
    Brother Samuel appeared just as I was about to start screaming. I said, “Hello, Brother. We’re here for Larry.”
    Brother smiled brightly and invited us to sit on one of the wooden lobby benches. We sat. He said, “Lawrence has been asked to leave our church. He’s currently moving his things out of the building, and we want nothing and no one to disrupt him.” He stared at my face. “Are you all right? Your nose is bubbling.”
    “We’ve come to help Larry pack.”
    “That pagan woman is already helping him.”
    He must mean Molly, I thought. “Perfect. We’ll make it a foursome.”
    Brother blanched. I didn’t think it possible considering the already pasty pallor of his skin. He looked at Max. Max smiled his clean-cut American boy smile. “Very well,” Brother said uncertainly. “Up the stairs two flights. Third door on the left. I would like all of you out in five minutes.”
    We followed Brother’s directions and found Larry and Molly lugging two large suitcases down the hallway. We ran to catch up to them. Molly’s mouth formed a hard line when she saw us. She wore the same black workout clothes I’d last seen her in. Larry had changed into jeans and a clean white cotton shirt. He said, “Thank the Lord. Wanda. Brother Samuel destroyed my lab. You’ve still got the notebook, I hope?”
    “Should we talk in the hallway?”
    Molly frowned. Larry shrugged and backed up into his old room. We followed him. I closed the door behind me.
    I introduced Max while checking out the room. It was Spartan and clean. The bed was just a box spring and mattress on a metal stand. A convenience kitchen was tucked into a corner—just a half-size fridge and ministove. Molly and Larry took seats on the bed. Max stood next to me. I did a quick appraisal. Max could take Molly if pressed. “I’ve got a gun,” I lied.
    Molly’s leg muscles tensed. She looked at Max, checking out his bod to see if she could take him. Larry said, “We won’t need a gun, Wanda. Brother Samuel has allowed me to leave. As long as I never come back.” Larry’s voice trailed off at the end. I wondered if he was upset at the prospect of leaving his church.
    “We’re not busting out of here, Larry,” I said. “But this is a bust of sorts, I suppose.”
    In a blazing second, Molly came at me, her talons ripping through the air. She had her hands around my throat in seconds. We fell on the floor and she began beating my head against the fine, inlaid wood. Max peeled her off me. I regained composure and slapped her across the face. I said, “If I didn’t have a client in jail for the murder, Molly, I’d consider forgetting the whole thing.” Of course, Jack wasn’t in jail for murder. But they didn’t need to know that.
    Larry sucked in air. “My Lord—Molly? You did kill Barney!”
    “No, Larry,” I said. “You did.” Molly went limp in Max’s arms and started crying quietly. I went on: “Both of you had the opportunity—that’s for sure. And I thought for a while that Molly did it. She probably had a key to the suite from her days working for Janey.” I could tell from Molly’s dejected face that I was right about that. “But something bothered me about Molly as the killer. For one thing, Barney wouldn’t have placidly sat in the Jacuzzi when a strange, crazed woman approached him. He’d try to protect himself. But when he saw Larry—a nonviolent Jehovah’s Witness—come into the room, Barney probably assumed Larry’d try to reason with him. It never occurred to Barney that Larry could be violent. It hardly occurred to me, especially after Molly broke my ribs while you stood there and watched.”
    “You’re guessing,” Larry said.
    “The clincher was the bread knife. Molly was intimate with kitchen cutlery—she special ordered a set from Sweden for Christ’s sake.”
    “Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Larry said by