Free Dressed To Kill by Lynn Cahoon

messages.”
    I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, as Mary almost ran down the sidewalk to get away from me. I put call Aunt Jackie on my mental to-do list, along with maybe a call to Bill, strictly about the next Business-to-Business meeting. If he was acting as weird as his wife, then I’d know something was up with the two of them.
    Trouble in paradise . Seriously, Bill and Mary were the last married couple I’d have pegged for having problems. If they couldn’t make it, what did that say about the rest of us?

CHAPTER 7
    A unt Jackie hadn’t answered her cell. I’d gotten the machine when I called Bill. And now Amy was late for lunch. For a Friday, it wasn’t living up to my expectations. I thumbed through the ton of e-books I’d bought and downloaded onto my phone with the expectation I’d read them when I found a spare minute of time. Like now.
    Instead, I thumbed through the covers, wondering which one I wanted to start. Scrolling through my phone was like walking through the bookstore; I had too many choices.
    I heard Amy slide into the booth across from me. I closed out the program and set my phone aside; I’d figure out a book to read the next time I had a few minutes alone. Then I looked up. Amy wasn’t the person sitting across from me.
    “Hear me out.” Pat Williams held up a perfectly manicured hand.
    I shook my head. “I really don’t think we have anything to talk about.” Pat was Sherry’s best friend. If the two women stood side by side you’d swear they were sisters. They both had that trophy wife look, all polished and professional. Although, I guess, to run a shop where you charged the kind of prices they did for used clothes, looking professional was part of the package. Sherry and Pat just took their “work uniform” to a 24/7 level of commitment.
    “You have to help her. Greg will listen to you.” Pat grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You have power over him.”
    I swear she almost tripped over what she didn’t say at the end of that sentence, something like even though I have no idea how . But I couldn’t fault her for words not spoken. “Look, Sherry’s just going to have to get over the fact that Greg and I are dating. She had her shot with him, now that’s over.”
    “You don’t understand—” Pat started, then looked up at Amy standing by the table, glowering at the interloper.
    “You’re in my seat.” Amy’s words were chilly cold.
    Pat looked from me to Amy, then let out a dramatic sigh any high school theater coach would be proud of. She slipped out of the booth but stood while Amy sat. She tapped her manicured nail on the table. “You have to help her. Sherry’s my best friend.”
    Then she turned and walked out of Diamond Lille’s, her designer stiletto heels clicking all the way to the door.
    Amy pushed her purse into the corner of the booth. “What was all that about? I know I should have been more charitable, but I’ve never liked that woman. Besides, the fact that the mayor adores both her and Sherry makes me dubious of her personal worth.”
    “I didn’t know Mayor Baylor knew Pat, too. I thought the connection to Sherry was through Greg.” I stared at the menu like I hadn’t read it two or three times a week for the last five—no, make that six—years.
    Amy picked up her own menu. “For some reason, Pat showed up at City Hall this morning. The mayor was still obsessing over the fact that our mail was an hour late. He kept her cooling on the couch in the waiting room for at least an hour.”
    “What did she come in to talk about?” I set aside the menu. It was Friday and that meant homemade clam chowder and fish and chips. I’d run that morning; I deserved the treat.
    Carrie showed up at the table before Amy could answer. “Hey, girls.” Carrie snapped her gum. “What can I get for you, the usual?”
    Amy shook her head. “What exactly is the usual?”
    “Oh, you nonbeliever. No worries, we can play it your way.”