Blowout

making inroads.”
    Sherlock patted her arm. “I’m just glad you stayed in the car at Danny O’Malley’s apartment, like Ben told you to.”
    “Actually, I cuffed her to the door handle,” Ben said. “All right, I didn’t manhandle her. She obeyed me this time.”
    “Ben told me Danny and my stepfather were killed by the same man. I knew Danny, not well, mind you, but he always smiled when I visited. It’s horrible.”
    “I agree,” Sherlock said. “Now, I think it’s good to have someone who knows Fleurette in on this interview, and your reporter’s trained eye makes it even better.”
    Ben was looking at the two women. He didn’t look very happy, more resigned. He’d found Callie on his doorstep when he’d gotten the call from Mr. Maitland about Danny O’Malley. He’d tried to get rid of her, but the woman was ruthless. Before they’d come here to Fleurette’s house, she’d talked him into having lunch, said she really liked Chinese, spicy hot Szechuan, a good thing since it was a staple for him when he wasn’t eating pizza, and she knew two places he hadn’t eaten at before.
    The four of them heard a man and a woman yelling at each other as they climbed up the six red brick front steps to the bright red front door with a lion-head knocker at its center.
    They paused a moment, listening.
    “You bastard! You used me because you wanted me to convince Justice Califano to vote to hear your damned case! You’re despicable, you—”
    “Get over it, Fleurette, it’s all irrelevant. I’m a lawyer, you knew that going in. You knew there was a case I was involved in, so don’t whine about it now. Hey, the old guy’s dead, so we’re not going anywhere, now are we?”
    The four of them stepped back as the front door swung open and a man in his mid-thirties, with impeccably styled light brown hair, a handsome face, and a runner’s body, came out, whistling, even as she continued to yell after him.
    “I hope you rot and die! I hope your dick falls off!”
    The guy looked at the four strangers, arched an eyebrow, gave them a cocky grin as he rolled his eyes back toward Elaine LaFleurette, and continued on his way to a dark green Jaguar parked in front of the house. He tossed his car keys in the air, caught them, and opened the door with the remote.
    Savich flipped out his I.D. to the young woman standing in the doorway. “Agents Savich and Sherlock, Detectives Raven and Markham. Are you Elaine LaFleurette?”
    “Yes. Look, I’ve already talked to you guys. I don’t know anything. What now?”
    Sherlock simply walked right up to her, pressing her back. “May we come in? It’s sort of cold out here.”
    Fleurette stepped back automatically. She was still flushed, her breath still hot with anger.
    Sherlock pointed back to the man who was revving up the Jag. “I agree with you, he’s a jerk,” she said. “We couldn’t help but overhear. You want me to go punch out his lights?”
    Fleurette stared at the lovely woman with her curly red hair who stood a good four inches shorter than she was, and laughed. “Nah, he’s not worth you breaking a fingernail. But you’re right about him. He just dumped me because Justice Califano is dead, and so I can’t help him now, not that I would have in any case. Thank God I didn’t sleep with him.
    “Callie? What are you doing with them? Oh God, I’m so sorry about your stepfather.”
    Callie said, “Thank you, Fleurette. I’m with them because I’m trying to help. About that jerk, you’re lucky to be rid of him so quickly. Why’d you hook up with him in the first place?”
    “Well, he is cute. And smart. But thank God it hadn’t gotten serious.”
    Savich and Ben followed the two women into the living room, saying nothing at all. It was a gorgeous place, with highly buffed floors and an occasional Persian carpet. The living room was filled with high-quality Early American antiques, giving the living room a cozy feel. A fire blazed in the fireplace.
    Fleurette obviously hadn’t been expecting company. She was wearing old gray sweats, with only socks on her feet, and no makeup. Her blond hair was in a ponytail. Her features were sharp, her green eyes full of intelligence.
    “The guy just showed up to kiss you off?” Sherlock asked.
    “Yeah, you’d think he’d at least call first, give me a chance to do my face, but here he is, standing on my doorstep, wanting to tell me he’s seeing another woman now. I wouldn’t be surprised if it