The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug

studied him intently, but his face was neutral, giving away nothing.
    “Okay, well, I’m thirty-two and I just started up my own business last year—”
    Dr. Bob shook his head and sighed. “You’re going to be a challenge, aren’t you?”
    “I’m not trying to be difficult. It’s just that after Neil and the boys and my cleaning business, there isn’t much time for anything else.”
    “So you blame Neil and his children for your lack of identity.” He nodded his head and scribbled something on a yellow legal pad.
    “I didn’t say that!”
    He squinted at me out of one eye and wrote something else, probably having to do with my volatile temper. I took a deep breath and retrenched. “How about you tell me about yourself Dr. Bob?”
    Leaning back in his chair, Dr. Bob cocked his head to the side. “I’ve been a marriage counselor for fifteen years—”
    “Ah ha!” I interrupted. “You can’t do it, either.”
    He blinked owlishly. “Do what?”
    “Introduce yourself without leaning on your job.”
    His lips compressed into a thin line of disapproval. “Mrs. Phillips, it’s my job to help you. Nothing else about me is relevant to our time here.”
    Damn. I had to concede the point. “Okay, well where were we?”
    “How’s your sex life?”
    My accent might label me a genteel southern woman by birth, but I’d been a Navy wife for several years. Our lives were surrounded by raunchy men who oftentimes forgot I was in the room. Or got drunk and didn’t care. If he was attempting to unnerve me, he needed to try harder than that. “Just ducky, how about you?”
    He blew out a sigh. “I know your husband is concerned about your relationship, Mrs. Phillips. If you aren’t going to take these sessions seriously, we’re all just wasting our time.”
    Double hit for the good doctor. Preying on my guilt over Neil’s concerns and throwing w word into the ring. I was way out of my comfort zone.
    “Sorry,” I apologized. “I’ll shelve the pithy retorts.”
    He bared his teeth in what might have been a smile and wrote something down on his notepad.
    My cell phone rang and I sagged in relief. Bless the kind soul who thought to call me at this particular moment.
    Dr. Bob gave me his evil eye as I dug in my bag for my cell. Positive I would eventually receive a lecture on distractions and time wasting, I turn forty-five degrees in the chair for pseudo privacy.
    “Laundry Hag cleaning services, Maggie speaking,” My cell phone caught all of my business calls since Kenny hadn’t quite figured out how to take a proper message on the land line.
    “Maggie, this is Candie Valentino,”
    Ah the former Ms. Texas. I really liked her, as opposed to some of the other socialites that I took on as clients. Candie always greeted me by name when I cleaned their vast estate. “What can I help you with Mrs. Valentino?”
    There was a slight pause. “Um, Maggie, did you send something here?”
    “Something?” My eyebrows met just above my nose. “No, why do you ask?”
    “We received a package and it came in a box with your logo on it?” Her voice went up at the end phrasing a fact like a question.
    I frowned. My logo was a freebie Neil had found online and I’d ordered a few shirts and hats as well as a bunch of business cards for promotional purposes. The site had offered boxes, but I saw no need for them. “Does the box say Laundry Hag on it anywhere?”
    “No, it’s just the picture on the side. It’s like one of those bakery boxes you know?”
    Something prickled the hair along the back of my neck. “Candie, what came in the box?”
    “A dead bird.”
    “Gross!” I said before I thought better of it. Dr. Bob stared at me quizzically, but I ignored his protest as I rose from the armchair. “Did you report it?”
    “To who?” Candie asked as I opened the door to the waiting area. Neil took one look at my face and was up out of his chair.
    “The police, the CDC. It might be infected with avian bird flu.”
    “Oh God, I didn’t even think of that.” Candie’s tone was laced with panic.
    “What’s going on?” Neil asked.
    I covered the speaker with my palm. “We have to go to the Valentino house. I’ll explain on the way.”
    Dr. Bob sputtered from the doorway, “But your session—”
    Neil turned back to deal with the doctor and I focused on my phone. “Candie, you need to report this. Call the Hudson police department and ask to speak with Detective Capri. I’ll be there as