Mad About You

impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, already. Get to the point."
    "Okay," Tenner said smoothly. "Would you mind telling us about the thirty thousand dollars that appeared in your bank account yesterday?"
    Denise crossed her arms over her chest in a protective gesture. "How," she squeaked, "did you get access to my financial records?"
    "Just answer the question, ma’am."
    Her gaze cut to Kat, who squirmed, embarrassed for her.
    "A friend gave it to me," Denise said, then bent to rummage around on an end table, coming up with a crushed pack of cigarettes.
    "In exchange for the letter?" Tenner asked bluntly.
    "The King's letter?" Denise asked, her voice outraged. "Are you nuts?" She looked back to Kat, her ex pression hurt. "Kat, do you think I had something to do with this?"
    Tenner opened his mouth, but Kat silenced him with a stare, then walked over to her friend. "No, I don't," she said gently. "But if you want to help me and help yourself, just tell the detective what he wants to know. Did your new boyfriend give you the money for your condo?"
    Her friend tossed down the pack of cigarettes with a curse, then turned tear-filled eyes toward her. "Yes. Is that so bad?"
    "No," Kat assured her, laying a hand on her arm. "Just tell the police his name."
    But Denise shook her head miserably. "I can't tell you—I can't tell anyone." A tear slipped down her pale cheek and she roughly brushed it away.
    "So it was gained illegally," the detective said triumphantly.
    "No," Denise snapped. "It was a gift."
    "Oh." Tenner made a clicking sound with his cheek. "A Chinatown sugar daddy? You provide attention and he provides cash?"
    Denise snorted. "You've been watching too much television, Tubby."
    Tenner's face turned grim. "So who is it, Ms. Womack? You've got ten seconds to give me a name, or I'm placing you under arrest."
    The color drained from her face. "You can't do that."
    "It wouldn't be your first time in jail, now would it, Ms. Womack?"
    Kat heard her inhale sharply, then she stiffened.
    Tenner must have sensed her panic. "And we'll find whoever you entertained at Ms. McKray's apartment that night," he said, crossing his arms smugly. "You should have remembered to wipe the prints from the coffee cups."
    Denise's shoulders started to shake and she held a fisted hand to her mouth.
    "Denise," Kat admonished softly, "just tell us the truth."
    Her friend nodded, her nose glowing from unshed tears. "Okay...okay." Denise inhaled, obviously gathering her strength. "The money was a gift from a lover to help me buy this miserable excuse for an apartment. H-Her name is G-Gloria Handelman."
    Kat blinked, then looked at James. He nodded slightly, as if to acknowledge he remembered the woman's name from their earlier conversations.
    "A woman?" Tenner croaked in his seemingly infinite capacity for insensitivity. "Who is this Gloria Handelman? The name sounds familiar."
    "She worked at the gallery for a few months as an administrator," Kat volunteered, still stunned by Denise's revelation. "Her father is Morris Handelman, and most of the family members are serious collectors of historical documents."
    "Not your everyday family hobby," the detective noted.
    "Working at Jellico's was Gloria's first paying job, I think, and she only stayed long enough to find and acquire a half-dozen rare manuscripts through the gallery."
    "Employee discount?" Tenner asked, popping his gum.
    "No, but the job gave her access to the names of other private collectors, and she knew immediately when documents hit the market."
    "Sounds like the primo job for a collector. Why did she quit?"
    "I never knew," Kat replied. "But I do know that the Handelmans were to be one of our prime bidders for the King's letter—Gloria's mother wanted it, so Morris was determined to buy it for her."
    The detective pulled out a yellowed pocket notebook and pencil stub. "So this Gloria Handelman is familiar with the gallery security?"
    Kat glanced sadly at her friend. "Yes."
    James stepped toward them. "Ms. Womack," he said gently, "was this Handelman woman the same person who had a cup of coffee with you at Kat's Friday night?"
    Looking miserable, Denise nodded. "I guess it's pretty obvious why I lied about having company. But I called Gloria to chat and she wanted to come by to give me the check." She smiled sadly at Kat. "I was embarrassed and afraid you would disapprove."
    Kat's heart squeezed and she patted her friend's hand.
    "Ms. Womack," James continued, "did you see Ms. Handelman