Blood on the Street (A Smith and Wetzon Mystery, #4)

course that’s ridiculous. Thank you for telling us.” She replaced the receiver. “Damn, I just chipped a nail.” The face she turned to Wetzon was mottled burgundy with anger.
    “Spill it.”
    “You’d better sit down.”
    “No, I’ll take it standing up, thank you very much.”
    “The police came up to the office and arrested Rona an hour ago.”

34.
    W ETZON WAS NONPLUSSED . Nothing was going right. “I should never have told them about her phone call.”
    “You told them?” Smith turned on her in a fury. “How could you have done that? You know what it means to us.”
    “I’m sorry. I did what I thought was right.” What she still thought was right.
    “Sorry, humpf. Now we’ve got to drop everything and really involve ourselves in this investigation. We’ve got to clear her.”
    “But wait a minute, Smith, the police don’t just arrest someone like Rona out of the clear blue sky without some real hard evidence. What if she did it?”
    “Who cares? Read my lips, babycakes—we will get her off or we won’t see another dollar on her.”
    “I can see Rona murdering Brian, possibly, but not Tabitha. Never Tabitha. Not even if Tabitha and Brian were making it.”
    “That’s gross. Of course, we could give them another suspect.”
    “Oh, yeah?” Wetzon looked at Smith suspiciously. “Like who ... whom?”
    Smith didn’t say anything, just stared at her hard.
    “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, Smith, you can forget about it.”
    “You were there. You have no alibi for Brian’s death. It would be so easy, sweetie pie. And it would buy us some time.”
    “No!”
    “Oh, very well, then. Trust you not to be cooperative when times get tough.”
    “Come off it, Smith. You wouldn’t do it if the roles were reversed.” See Smith backpedal herself out of that.
    “I was joking. Where’s your sense of humor, sugar? I’m going to call Dickie right now. He’s got to defend Rona.”
    “Dickie? You mean Dick Hartmann?”
    “Of course.” Smith picked up the phone and tapped out the numbers with the eraser end of her pencil.
    “I see you’ve committed that to memory.”
    “Carved on my heart, sweetie pie,” Smith said flippantly.
    “What about Twoey, if I may ask?”
    “You may, sugar.” She smiled one of her hot sultry smiles. “One can be in love with two men at the same time, you know.”
    Wetzon groaned loudly. For all that, Smith’s last words were disquieting. Was their association rubbing off on her? Was Wetzon becoming more like Smith? Oh, God, no, she thought, shuddering inwardly. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to work. We are trying to run a business here.” On her desk was a long list of people on her TBC list, starting with Joan Boley, who had never called her back. She pulled Joan’s suspect sheet and called her private number.
    “Marley Straus.”
    That was odd. She’d dialed the private number and had gotten the switchboard. “Joan Boley, please.”
    “Do you have an account with us?”
    Wetzon’s hand froze on the receiver. She moved her lips, but nothing came out. Finally, she managed to squeeze out a “No, why?”
    “Because Ms. Boley is no longer employed by—”
    “Do you know where I can reach her?”
    “You’re not a client?”
    “No. I went to ...” She quickly checked the suspect sheet. “... Simmons with Joan and I’m in town on a buying trip.”
    “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
    Damn. Usually that fabrication worked. Wetzon hung up and called Fred. She held the receiver in place with her shoulder and tried to get Smith’s attention, but Smith was wearing her client voice, talking in crisp tones into her telephone.
    “Fred Benitos’s office.”
    “Hi, Elaine. It’s Wetzon. Is Joan Boley there, by any chance?”
    “No, but she was in the other night and we made a copy of her books. Did Fred tell you, she took all the copies with her?” Elaine sounded pissed because she’d stayed extra hours to make those copies to facilitate Joan’s move, and then Joan had not left the copies with her so Elaine could get the broker-to-broker transfer of accounts set up and ready to go to clients the minute Joan came on board.
    “Ask Fred to call me when he gets back.”
    Behind her, she could feel Smith all pumped up and ready to burst, which she did the minute Wetzon replaced the receiver.
    “Wait till you hear this. Rona already called him. He’s on his way to handle the bail