Death on a Deadline

more surprised when Neuro leaped from my arms and padded over to the golden-haired dog. I held my breath while they sniffed the air and two-stepped around each other. Mr. Persi gave a bounding leap toward Neuro, landing playfully on his haunches. The cat jumped back, but then slowly initiated the dance again. I laughed aloud and it felt good. Chaos all around and order in the strangest places.
    I put Mr. Persi in the fenced-in backyard with cat food and water and loaded Neuro in her carrier for our daily trek, then paid a surprise visit to the police station before work to show John the Dear Pru letter. After he finished laughing, I tried to explain about Elliott and his girlfriend, but our very important chief of police left for a very important meeting, muttering something about “nosy women needing to learn to mind their own business.”
    If the police weren’t going to do their job, that only left me. And Carly. Unfortunately, my sweet-tempered sis can morph into a mule at the oddest times. I cradled the cordless phone against my shoulder and sprayed window cleaner on the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the workout room. “C’mon, Carly. You know we’ve got to talk to him sooner or later.”
    We needed to ask Elliott some key questions—if we could think of any—to try to mark him off our so-called list of suspects. The attraction between him and Carly could be a wonderful breakthrough for her. Or it could be a disaster. I, for one, did not intend to let my sister lose her heart to a murderer.
    “Doesn’t it seem a tad bit strange to just walk in and accuse a man of murder?”
    “We’re not going to accuse anyone. You know better than that.” I wiped the mirror with circular motions that reminded me too much of how this conversation was going.
    “I know I’m not. You, I’m not so sure about.”
    “I promise, Car. I’m not going to be confrontational. It’ll be a friendly little information-gathering visit.”
    “Fine! I’ll go, but if you embarrass me, you’ll pay. And I mean it, Jenna Stafford.”
    I grinned. When we were growing up, if I ever tattled on her or hid behind the couch and made kissy noises at her and her date, I could always be sure that she’d get me back. Greased shower nozzle, short-sheeted bed, salted toilet seats, she was the master of payback. I wasn’t willing to take a chance on the assumption that she’d outgrown such stunts. I’d handle Elliott with kid gloves.
    “I’ll behave. Pick you up at lunch?”
    “I’ll be ready.”
    An hour later, she climbed into my car and I turned toward the country club. I glanced over at her. “How should we handle this? Should we act casual? Or let him know what we’re there for?”
    “I called and told him we wanted to come by and talk about Hank’s murder.” She placed her hands primly in her lap and looked out the window.
    My mouth dropped open. “You did?”
    She shrugged one shoulder. “I figured he deserved to know up front what we were doing.”
    That would undoubtedly be more welcome than my surprise attack. “Good.” I pulled up under the club breezeway.
    Carly sighed. “I dread Zac’s reaction when he finds out I told Elliott what he said.”
    “You could ask Elliott not to tell him.”
    “I could, but I won’t.” She looked over at me as we opened our car doors. “I didn’t agree not to tell, and if this helps us get closer to the truth, it’ll be worth hurting Zac’s feelings.”
    I parked my car and asked directions to Elliott’s office. The golf pro answered the door on the first knock and ushered us in to a homey-looking office, complete with TV, coffeemaker, microwave, and couch. Even a small refrigerator. All the comforts of home. I might have looked a bit surprised.
    “Sometimes, when I have an early lesson, I sack out here the night before.” He gave us a sheepish smile.
    “No wonder you’re not married. Or are you? I mean, were you?” Not my most shining moment.
    Carly glared, but I was too far away for her to kick, so I opened my mouth, fully prepared to insert the other foot in the name of seeing justice done.
    “What my sister means, Elliott, is that if you have no one at home waiting, staying overnight here would be a sensible thing to do.” Then she surprised me and took the type of breath I used to take before leaping from the high board at a swim meet. “Elliott.” She leveled him with one of Mama’s you’d-best-come-clean-I-know-all-about-it-anyway looks. I guess when you