The Purrfect Murder

heartbeat. It’s not the flames that kill you, it’s smoke inhalation.” He paused dramatically. “What’s extra expense compared to a human life?”
    “Don’t try that on me.” Carla, lips glimmered with iridescent pink lipstick, stared at the wall of the guest bedroom. “Tazio should have known. I’ll skin her alive.”
    “That’s between you and Tazio, but if you want to come out to the truck, I can show you the code book. It’s formidable, and every time there’s a change, architects and construction bosses have to memorize it plus how it affects other things. I know you think I’m thick, Carla; you treat me like a redneck.” His directness surprised her. “But I’m not. I have every item in that book memorized, and furthermore, you’re not the only kid on the block. Every one of these jobs has to be cleared, and every single person, like yourself, is in a God-awful hurry.”
    “How dare you call me by my first name. I never gave you permission.” This said by someone who knew her etiquette even when she chose not to practice.
    “I’ll call you whatever I want.”
    “I’m going to report you to the county commissioners.”
    “Go right ahead. And when you do, remember that I will put your job last on the list. You won’t finish this house until next year.”
    “Are you threatening me?”
    “No, I’m promising you that I’ll drag this out forever.” He stretched the syllables in “forever.”
    “I’ll get you fired, you arrogant ass.”
    “No, you won’t. You’ll get yourself an ulcer.”
    “I don’t have to put up with this.” She started to brush by him.
    Mike held out his arm like a barrier, then handed her a sheet of paper. “You might want to read this at your leisure. Just a few little things I’ve noticed that will need changes for you to get your certification.”
    “What would you do if I moved in before that?”
    “Throw the book at you.”
    Carla, entertaining a high opinion of her own intelligence, actually began to use it. “How much?”
    “How much what?”
    “Money. What do you want in order to check these things off the punch list?”
    “Are you trying to bribe a public official?” He pretended mock horror.
    “I’m trying to figure out why you’re being so difficult. If it isn’t money, do you want a suite of teak outdoor furniture?” Carla’s husband, Jurgen, owned a large outdoor-furniture manufacturing plant over in Waynesboro.
    “No, I don’t. Wouldn’t have the time to use it, anyway.”
    “What do you want?”
    “For you to study that list.” He walked past her to the hallway. “And you might reconsider how you treat this public official.”
    In the living room, the painting crew was putting the finishing touches on the woodwork. Not knowing whether they’d heard the conversation back in the guest room, Mike winked as he passed them.
    Orrie Eberhard, on a ladder, smiled. He didn’t like Mike, but he didn’t get in his way, either. Mike could hurt his business through rumor and innuendo. Orrie kept on the good side of him.
    Carla, puce-faced, came into the living room just as Mike pulled out in his county truck. “How long have you known Mike McElvoy?”
    Orrie carefully put his brush crossways on the open paint can. “Most of his life. We went through school together.”
    “Did he cheat?”
    “Ma’am?”
    “Did he cheat on tests and stuff like that?”
    “No, not that I know of.”
    “Do you think he’s honest?”
    Orrie ignored that question, since he didn’t want the reply to come back to him. “The thing you have to understand about Mike is, his father shamed the whole family. I mean, they were lower than earthworms. Mike has some power and he likes that. He’s kind of aggressive about it.”
    “What did his father do?”
    “Drank himself to death. Found him dead as a doornail on the swings at the elementary school.”
    “Therefore I shall assume that Mike doesn’t touch a drop.”
    “No, ma’am, he doesn’t.”
    “Any vices?”
    “Now, Mrs. Paulson, I haven’t made Mike a life’s study. I mean, we get along okay, but he goes his way and I go mine. Plus, I don’t want him criticizing my work, even though it has nothing to do with the building code.”
    “If it has lead paint in it, it does.”
    “Yes, ma’am, that’s true.” Orrie began to appreciate how quick she was.
    “Is his marriage strong?”
    “I don’t know.”
    She lifted an eyebrow, still looking up at him. “Everyone has an