Love Can Be Murder

before, you neglected to mention the condo that Mr. Hagan owned."
    Jolie frowned. "Condo? Here in Atlanta?"
    "In midtown, on West Peachtree—ring a bell?"
    "No. I don't know anything about it."
    "Hm, that's interesting, since you're listed as the buying agent."
    Jolie's mind raced. "That's impossible. It had to be someone else named Goodman. I never handled a property for Gary."
    Salyers sighed. "It won't do you any good to cover up business dealings you had with Mr. Hagan."
    "I'm not," Jolie said hotly. "Why would I lie about something like that?"
    "Because when we raided the condo this morning, it was clear someone had recently been there. Plus, the freezer was full of coke—and not the cola kind."
    Jolie's stomach roiled. "I don't know anything about...anything."
    "Of course you don't," Salyers said, and Jolie couldn't tell if the woman was serious, or if she was mocking her. "Will you agree to come down to the precinct to be fingerprinted?"
    Her skin crawled just thinking about it. "What for?"
    "Well, if you don't know anything about the condo, your prints won't be there, will they?"
    Jolie swallowed. "No. I mean, yes—I'll be f-fingerprinted. I don't have anything to hide."
    "In that case, you wouldn't mind submitting to a polygraph as well?"
    Her breath caught in her chest. "A lie detector test?"
    "Right."
    Could she unwittingly incriminate herself? "I...this is a little overwhelming."
    "It's nothing to worry about, unless of course you're hiding something."
    Jolie closed her eyes, her heart hammering.
    "There's my other line. I tell you what, Ms. Goodman—why don't you come by the precinct Monday morning at ten o'clock? We'll have another cup of coffee and discuss the new developments in the case, and I can take your prints, just for everyone's peace of mind."
    She hesitated, already dreading the meeting. "What about the polygraph?"
    "That will have to be scheduled—we'll talk more about it Monday."
    "Okay."
    "Meanwhile, Ms. Goodman, try to stay out of trouble."
    Jolie disconnected the call and puffed her cheeks out in a sigh, thinking at least she would be safe crashing Sammy's pajama party tonight. The most trouble she and the girls were likely to encounter was unbridled pretentiousness in Realtor Barbie's funhouse.

Chapter Fifteen

    "THIS IS COZY," Carlotta said as she and Hannah walked into Jolie's apartment. The women's hands were full of shopping bags. "How long have you lived here?"
    Jolie smiled. "Too long."
    Hannah studied her shabby collection of furnishings as if Jolie were an oddity to the stripe-haired woman. She picked up a coaster that Jolie's mother had crocheted from orange yarn and scrutinized it. As a distraction, Jolie offered them something to drink, and Hannah helped herself in the refrigerator, emerging with a bottle of water each for Carlotta and Jolie, and a bottle of beer for herself.
    With a start, Jolie stared at the bottle that Hannah lifted to her mouth. It was the premium label that Gary preferred. Hannah stopped. "Is it all right if I drink this?'
    "Of course," Jolie said, recovering. She had bought a few to keep on hand and he hadn't had the chance to drink one before he...disappeared. She remembered thinking later that she had cursed the blossoming relationship with that casual act of intimacy—stocking his favorite beer.
    "Wait until you see what I brought," Carlotta said with a grin, lifting a shopping bag. "We're going to knock 'em dead." From a bag she withdrew a burgundy-colored velvet robe with bishop sleeves. "I thought this would be perfect for you, Jolie."
    Jolie petted the thick pile and began to salivate. "I hope you shopped the clearance rack."
    Carlotta looked perplexed. "Why would I shop the clearance rack if we're going to be returning everything?"
    "Will they let you return nightclothes?" Hannah asked, peeking into the bags.
    "Robes they'll take back," Carlotta said. "And pajamas if they haven't been worn." She made a face. "Doris in Intimates actually sniffs things. It's disgusting."
    "Uh, actually, I think it's a health code," Hannah said, pulling out a black high-necked satiny robe. "This is wicked."
    "That one's yours," Carlotta said, then pulled out a teal-colored raw silk robe with a ruffled shawl collar. "This one's mine." She dug in a different bag and removed handfuls of colorful silk. "Pajamas for all of us: a cream chemise for Jolie, pink tap pants for me, a red gown for Hannah."
    Jolie balked at the sight of the knee-length chemise. "Er, I