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

that I could handle the confrontation. “Don’t worry Capri, I’m not lawsuit happy. I have to live in this town, too.”
    Her gaze steady, she nodded once. “That’s good to know, but it’s not what I want to speak with you about.”
    “My wife isn’t about to say anything without her attorney present. Come on Maggie.” Neil pulled on my arm, but Capri blocked his path. Tension radiated off him in waves and I was afraid if Capri didn’t move her bony ass, Neil would knock her down then be charged with assaulting an officer.
    “Neil, it’s all right. Let me talk with her and be finished with this mess.” He didn’t budge. “Please,” I wasn’t above begging.
    Capri was smart enough not to smirk as I signaled Brentwood. “May I have another moment of your time?”
    “I’ll wait here.” Neil said.
    We followed Capri’s brisk stride to her office and Brentwood shut the door.
    I opened my mouth to tear a strip of flesh from her hide, but my lawyer spoke first. “I want it on record that my client is cooperating in full with this investigation.”
    “Noted. Maggie, tell me more about your encounter with Valentino. What was your impression of his attitude at the time?”
    I thought back. “Confident, arrogant even. Pretty much the same as the other encounter I had with him.”
    “Did he seem at all upset? Angry?”
    “Only when I mentioned Amelia Kettering. He seemed jealous of her former relationship with Candie. Perhaps he felt threatened.”
    “I’ve run a background check on Ms. Kettering. Everything seems simple enough. She’s single, thirty-five years old, an advertising executive for a national firm. She moves around quite a bit, rents instead of owns. She’s not flush with money, but she is comfortable, financially. Do you believe she might have anything to do with Mrs. Valentino’s disappearance?”
    “Not unless she’s a brilliant actress. She seemed genuinely surprised that Candie lived nearby, and shocked when I told her about the kidnapping. I don’t think her reactions were feigned and she didn’t strike me as the vengeful sort.”
    Capri glanced at Brentwood. “For the record, I want you to understand that I never believed you were capable of extortion and that I trust your judgment. However, the feds are in charge of this investigation. I’m required to follow their playbook. I hope this won’t affect our future working relationship.”
    I rolled my shoulders back, stared her in the eye. “Detective, do you honestly believe everything is going to go back to the way it was? Finding a cleaning job in this town will be like searching for a specific tick in the forest. It’s a small community, word will spread and my reputation will be in tatters. The last thing I’m worried about right now is feeding you more information.”
    “Noted,” Capri said again and I turned to the door.
    “For the record, I only wanted to help Candie Valentino.”
    “Funny, me too. I suggest you look into Valentino’s business dealings, specifically a project named falcon. My impression is he cares more about that than his wife.”
    I left without a backwards glance. The cops had the ball and they could stuff it for all I cared. Finding Candie cost too high a price for me to even consider paying.
    “My office will bill you.” Brentwood said as we parted ways in the lobby.
    Case in point. I sighed and gestured to Neil.
    “I want to go home now.”
    “As you wish, milady.”
    * * * *
    As the sun headed toward the western horizon, the calls began. My arrest in connection with Candie Valentino’s disappearance wouldn’t hit the newspapers until Monday morning, but word of mouth was almost as reliable. Every stinking job I’d lined up for the following week had been canceled. I was a pariah, not convicted by the courts, but by my community. No one wanted a possible extortionist/ arsonist mopping their floors.
    After the fifth cancellation, I shut my cell phone off. Penny, eyes wide, squeezed Marty’s hand as they watched me prepare dinner. The greens were washed and chopped and I kept busy sautéing pine nuts in extra virgin olive oil for a salad topper. A mountain of chicken cutlets sat warming in the oven and the rice pilaf stood ready, awaiting distribution.
    Neil was propped up against the refrigerator. Flanked by his offspring, three sets of blue green eyes bore witness to my every move. I loved them, but the staring was driving me nuts. The relief at my quick return home had