Free Shoe Done It by Grace Carroll

it suspicious and almost criminal that I didn’t tell him up front who I was.
    “Yes, it’s me,” I admitted with a sigh.
    “I thought you were laid up for the duration. It’s good to know you’ve recovered enough to go to work. If Ms. Loren isn’t available, I have a few follow-up questions for you if you’re up to it.”
    “We’re running a business here,” I said. “Customers might be put off by the presence of the police. It’s bad enough one of our customers is murdered, but to have the police hanging around makes people nervous.”
    “Do I make you nervous, Ms. Jewel?” he asked in that deep voice of his that caused my hand to shake.
    “I have nothing to be nervous about,” I said. Then why was my throat dry and my voice trembling?
    “Then you won’t mind my dropping by.”
    “I’d rather you didn’t,” I said. All I needed was another interrogation. “As I said, the presence of the police tends to freak out some people.”
    “I know what you said,” he said. “I understand that you prefer our interview occur away from your place of work. Since it’s almost lunchtime and we both have to eat, I propose we consider this a business lunch. I will provide the food, you will provide certain information.”
    I didn’t know what to say. It sounded vaguely illegal or at least immoral to exchange lunch for ratting on someone, if that’s what he meant. On the other hand, I was so hungry my stomach was growling. It must be the pain pills.
    “Do I have a choice?”
    “Yes, you do. I can ask questions at the central police station, your home, or we can eat lunch in some outdoor facility nearby. It’s your choice.”
    “Fine,” I said, wishing I knew where he meant. Lafayette Park? Ocean Beach? He said he’d be by at twelve thirty to pick me up.
    When Dolce popped into the office to get her appointment book from her desk drawer, she was surprised to hear about my lunch date, as she called it. I didn’t tell her he’d originally asked to speak to her about the murder. I was sure she was still on his to-do list.
    “The man is good-looking, no doubt about that. And if he wants to buy you lunch, why not go?”
    I was glad to hear she approved. Then she said, “I wonder what he wants in exchange.”
    “I thought I’d already told him everything I know,” I said. “Except the part about going to MarySue’s house that night. I suppose I’ll have to come clean about that.”
    “Why shouldn’t you? You’re the victim there. Aren’t you?” she asked with a frown.
    “That’s right,” I said. It was time to level with Dolce. “MarySue almost killed me when I tried to get the shoes back.”
    “What? That’s terrible.”
    “But I didn’t kill her,” I insisted. “There I was on the top of a ladder outside her bedroom because she refused to let me in. She’s inside dressed for the Benefit. I yell at her to give me back the shoes. She is not happy to see me. In fact, she opens her window and gives me a shove, right into her dead oak tree. You see, I am not just falling from a tall ladder. That’s bad enough. What’s worse is that she is furious. She reaches out. She pushes me. I fall. The next thing I know, I am waking up in the hospital with a concussion and a sprained ankle.”
    “But how did you get there?”
    I shook my head. “I have no idea. Maybe Detective Wall will enlighten me. I owe someone unless it was MarySue who dropped me off on her way to the park.”
    “Doesn’t seem likely,” Dolce said. “I picture MarySue hoping you wouldn’t wake up until the Benefit was over.”
    “Which I didn’t. Which was good because I have an alibi for MarySue’s murder.”
    Dolce looked thoughtful. “But I don’t.”
    “You don’t have a motive either,” I reminded her. “What good would it do you to kill MarySue? To get the shoes back? Somebody wanted those shoes. But not you. Especially after they’d been worn; we’d never be able to return them.”
    I pictured myself