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

the phone, I did mention my discovery as briefly as possible. I was annoyed to hear that it wasn’t relevant to her case.
    “But you and Detective Patterson are working together, right? One case ties into the other, so—”
    “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Phillips, you give me the unedited facts, and I’ll decide what is pertinent to the case, since I’m the one with the badge.”
    Of all the uptight, conceited….
    My mental rant stopped when the call waiting beeped, and I thanked the Almighty for his intervention.
    “I have to go, Detective. I’ll talk to you later.” I clicked over before Capri could protest.
    “Hey there, Missy!” Coop’s tell-tale wheeze sailed down the line, and I groaned.
    From the frying pan into the freaking fire.
    “I hope you aren’t calling to cancel on me, Coop.” My eye twitched from thinking about doing the evening’s cleaning job on my own. We had an entire house to scrub and polish, and while there wouldn’t be any investigating going down tonight, there was plenty of work.
    “No, it’s just that my deadbeat son-in-law wrecked my car. Fell asleep last night driving home from the bar and drove his stupid self into a tree.”
    “Oh my goodness, is he all right?”
    Coop actually chuckled. “Yes, siree. That good for nothin’ young man has a head as hard as a petrified dog turd. About as smart too. He’ll be fine, but my car’s being repaired.”
    “So you need a ride,” I deduced. I was getting good at this detective work.
    “Why don’t you pick me up now, and we can eat first.”
    Being jealous of a cantankerous old man was not my finest moment, but dear God, I wished I had his metabolism.
    “You have any of the soup left?” Coop asked.
    “Let me check.” I put the phone on mute. “Neil! Do me a favor and pick up my cleaning partner. If I spend any more time with him I’ll lose my last shred of patience.”
    “Why don’t you fire him?” Marty asked from his perch on the white couch. It was barely noon, and my brother was drinking a beer.
    “Because he wants a job everyone else seems to feel is beneath them. And because he actually works.”
    Neil pulled his jacket on. “I’ll have to take the van, since you’re blocking me in.”
    I gave my husband a kiss and un-muted the phone. “Coop? Neil’s on his way to pick you up.”
    “What about the soup?”
    “The soup will be ready when you get here.”
    Coop grunted, and I took that as a goodbye.

    * * * *
    Marty had pulled out the boys’ PlayStation and was busy with Oddworld, Abe’s Odyssey, by the time Neil and Coop came home. Neil gave me a look to let me know Coop had been himself for the entire ride, and I promised myself that I’d treat him to chocolate macadamia nut cookies over the weekend. He deserved each platinum-coated nut for putting up with the nuts.
    “So here’s what I think,” Coop said as we sat down at the table with our soup and unsalted crackers. “That young feller was blackmailin’ Mrs. K, and she wouldn’t pay up. So he killed her.”
    Spoon frozen in midair, I darted a look at Neil. “You told Coop about the murder?”
    Neil raised his hands and shook his head.
    “No, I did when he called this morning.” Marty didn’t stop eating as he relayed the information.
    I should have known. I’d get him later for this, but right now I had a geriatric fish to fry. “Are you sure you want to keep the job?” I didn’t know what answer to hope for.
    “Sure I’m sure. In fact, this makes everything much better. You had this shifty look about you, Missy, and I was just sticking around to make sure you didn’t get light-fingered on a job. This explains the sneakiness in you.”
    Marty snorted, and Neil grinned. I dropped my head into my hands and moaned. If Coop was on to me, then how was I supposed to fool a murderer?
    The phone pealed, and I jumped to answer it. Since I hadn’t made the crackers, I couldn’t eat them and I was getting sick of turkey soup.
    “Hello?”
    “Maggie? This is Francesca Carmichael.”
    Oh, holy heaven and hell. I had a potential murderess on the phone and I had no idea what to say to her.
    “Hello,” was my lame reply.
    “I just had a call from Doug’s lawyer and I heard you’d gone to visit him. Did he say anything to you?”
    Crap. “How is Jason, by the way?” When in doubt, stall until brain churns out something slick.
    “Mr. Macgregor is fine, but I was asking about Doug.” Francesca seemed irritated, and I couldn’t