K Is for Killer

Trinny said you were here. I hope I'm not interrupting." She came into the den and closed the door behind her, bringing with her the scent of shower soap, deodorant, and damp hair. She was wearing a red-and-white-checked shirt and red polyester stretch pants. "I got a regular uniform for work," she said, her glance following mine. She looked spiffier than I did, polyester or no. "Did anyone offer you a beverage?" I was surprised she didn't pull out an order pad and pen.
    "Thanks, but I'm fine. Mace offered earlier." I reached into my handbag and took out the contract, which I laid on the coffee table. "I stopped by with this. I hope I'm not interrupting your supper preparations."
    She waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. Trinny's taken care of that. Ever since she Rot laid off, it's like having live-in help. We don't eat until eight, which is hours from now anyway. Meantime, how've you been? I hope you got enough sleep. You look tired."
    "I am, but I'm hoping to catch up tonight. I don't know how you work the night shift. It would kill me."
    "You get used to it. Actually, I prefer it. A whole different set of people come in at night. By the way, that offer of coffee still stands if you're ever up in that area when I'm on shift." She picked up the contract, a simple one-page document spelling out the terms of our agreement. "I guess I better read this before I sign. How does this work? Is this hourly or flat fee?"
    "Fifty bucks an hour plus expenses," I said. "I'll submit a written report once a week. We can touch base by phone as often as you like. The agreement authorizes my services and expenditures up to five thousand dollars. Anything beyond that, we'll discuss if the time comes. You may decide you don't want to proceed, and if so, that's the end of it."
    "You'll probably need an advance. Isn't that how this is done?"
    "Generally," I said. We spent a few minutes talking about the particulars while Mace watched the game.
    "This looks all right to me. Honey, what do you think?"
    She held out the contract for him, but he ignored her. She turned back to me. "I'll be right back. The checkbook's in the other room. Will a thousand dollars be all right?"
    "That'd be fine," I said. She left the room, and I turned my attention to him. "It will save me some time if you can give me the names and addresses of Lorna's friends."
    "She didn't have any friends. She didn't have enemies, either, at least as far as we know."
    "What about her landlord? I'll need his address."
    "Twenty-six Mission Run Road. Name is J. D. Burke. Her place was at the back of his property. I imagine he'd give you the tour if you ask him nice."
    "You have any idea why she might have been killed?"
    "I already told you my opinion," he said.
    Janice returned to the room, catching my last remark and his response. "Ignore him. He's a pill," she said. She took a swat at hit head. "You behave yourself."
    She sat down on the couch with her checkbook in hand. From the glimpse I caught of the check register, it looked as though it had been a while since she'd done her subtraction. She seemed to favor rounding everything off to the nearest dollar, which made all the amounts end in zero. She wrote out the check, tore it off, and passed it over to me, making a note of the check number and the sum. Then she scribbled her name at the bottom of the contract and handed it to Mace. He took the pen and added his signature without glancing at the terms. The very gesture conveyed, not indifference, but something close to it. I've been in business long enough to smell trouble, and I made up my mind to have Janice pay me as we went along. If I waited to submit a final bill of any substance, Mace would probably get his undies in a bundle and refuse to pay.
    I glanced at my watch. "I better go," I said. "I have an appointment in fifteen minutes on the other side of town." I was lying, of course, but these people were beginning to give me a stomachache. "Could you walk me out?" I asked.
    Janice stood up when I did. "Be happy to," she said.
    "Nice meeting you," I murmured to Mace as I departed.
    "Yeah, ditto for sure."
    Neither Berlyn nor Trinny was visible as we passed through the living room on our way to the door. As soon as we hit the front porch, I said, "Janice, what's going on here? Have you told him about the tape? He doesn't act like he knows, and you swore you would do that."
    "Well, I know, but I haven't had a chance yet. He'd already gone to work when I got home this