The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Skeletons in the Closet

was.
    Patterson cleared his throat. “Well, the cook has disappeared. We found an airline ticket to Venezuela in her room, dated two days ago, but no other personal information. We’re still trying to track her down. It’s too soon yet to assume foul play, but I think a little caution on your part would be prudent.”
    I zoned out, staring straight over Bradley Patterson’s left shoulder. His words made a morbid sort of sense, and I tasted bile in my throat. I could be in danger, and Neil and the boys by proximity. My family was in jeopardy because I was tired of clipping coupons and shopping at frigging Wal-Mart. A tear slid down my cheek.
    Bradley Patterson handed me a tissue, which was good because I never have a tissue when I need one. And I really needed one right then.
    “I know this is a lot to handle, Maggie, and I’m not asking that you do anything you think would put you at further risk. This may be a way to tie up both of our problems, nice and neat, and capture a killer before he strikes again.”
    I don’t think I responded as Detective Patterson slid his card across the counter to me and let himself out. I gnawed on my lip and spaced out.
    Exactly what was I supposed to do now?

    * * * *

    It seemed like hours ago that I’d decided to stay out of it, to let the police fill in the gaps. But that was before I’d discovered my family was in the line of fire.
    Shit. I really wish I could go back to dealing with the gray hair and dandruff.
    By the time I’d showered and dressed, Neil and the boys had returned from the basketball courts. Kenny and Josh peppered me with questions, all of which I had not so skillfully evaded. I gave them a vague explanation, since they’d seen the paper and knew about Mrs. Kline’s demise, but left out my own involvement.
    “But what about the bruises?” Josh asked me. He was the more serious of the two and he hadn’t forgotten my flip remark about police brutality.
    “It was an accident, sweetie. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why don’t you go finish your book for school?”
    The boys grumbled a little more before heading off to their room.
    Neil shook his head at me. “They’re getting older. They understand more than I think either of us realizes. Half-assed explanations aren’t going to cut it anymore.”
    I knew he was right, but it’s near impossible to turn off that Mom instinct which demands that I shelter and protect my children from the harsher realities out there in the world.
    “So, what happened?” The boys had definitely inherited their sense of persistence from Neil.
    “We’ll talk about it later.”
    “Maggie….”
    “Please, love, I want to forget about it for now.”
    That was easier said than done. I spent the day cleaning the house, having the boys assist me whenever possible, and taking stock of the pantry items we had on hand. I was without an escape from my troubled musings, which put a damper on an already thankless day of chores.
    We had almost finished dinner when the doorbell rang. I stiffened in front of the running tap water, a plate suspended in midair. Neil searched my face before going to see who had stopped by, the boys close at his heels.
    “Uncle Marty!” I relaxed as the jubilant greeting reached my ears. I dropped the plate in the sink and dried my hands on my jeans right before I was lifted off the ground.
    “Hey there, big sis! Boy, you look like shit.”
    “Oh, save the woo for your harem, Marty. Where have you been?” I hugged my errant sibling and lectured him at the same time, an art form I’d perfected a decade ago.
    As was typical, Marty ignored me. “You didn’t think I’d miss your Thanksgiving dinner, did you? No, even us up-and-coming business tycoons need to relax now and again.”
    Neil looked as if a thundercloud had taken possession of his eyebrows. “So what’s the new job, skin diver for Roto-Rooter?”
    Neil’s lack of enthusiasm for my brother’s aptitude knows no bounds.
    “It’s a surprise. Nice digs you got here, brother-man.” Marty winked at Neil, whose grinding teeth echoed throughout the kitchen.
    An involuntary twitch started in my right eye—the reaction comes about when the men in my life are brought together. It pains me that my husband and my brother can’t get along, and their trading of insults takes sibling rivalry to a perverse level.
    “So, where am I crashing out?” Marty looked around the kitchen skeptically.
    “You can stay with us, Uncle