Free Murder Shoots the Bull by Anne George Page A

behind Lisa’s car. Fred reached over and took my hand. “Tell you what. Let’s go see if Lisa wants to go to Morrison’s. If she doesn’t, we can bring her something.”
    But Lisa wasn’t there. A note, propped on the kitchen table, said, Gone to dinner with Aunt Sister. Love, Lisa.
    I picked up the phone to see if there were any messages. There weren’t.
    “Try Alan’s house again,” Fred said.
    I dialed and, surprisingly, Alan answered.
    “Son?” I said. It came out as a question.
    “Hey, Mama.”
    “Your papa wants to talk to you.” I handed a startled Fred the phone and walked into the den.
    “What’s going on, Son?” I heard him ask.
    I turned on the TV. The local news was on. A picture of a much younger Sophie Sawyer filled the screen. Murdered. Prominent family. I reached over and snapped it off.
    In the kitchen “Un huh” seemed to be all that Fred was saying.
    I went down the hall pulling off my clothes. I turned on the shower as hot as I could stand it and stepped in, letting the water pound against me.
    In a few minutes, Fred joined me.
    “What did he say?” I asked, moving over to make room.
    “Damn, this water’s hot.” Fred moved to the corner of the shower stall. “He says it’s his fault. He says he’s been involved with this other woman.”
    “Damn,” I said. “Damn.”
    “You got that right.”
    “Turn around.” I soaped a washrag and washed his back, kissing various and sundry spots. Then he scrubbed my back, also doing some kissing. But that was as far as it went. By the time Wheel of Fortune came on, we were in front of the TV in our robes eating the tuna fish salad I had made for lunch. Better than Morrison’s.
    Fred was asleep in his chair when Mary Alice and Lisa came rushing in.
    “There are two police cars over at the Phizers’,” Sister exclaimed.
    “Two,” Lisa repeated.
    “Reckon what they’re doing?” Sister disappeared into the dining room with Lisa trailing right behind.
    “What’s going on?” Fred came awake.
    “Don’t know. They say there are two police cars over at the Phizers’.” I got up and followed them.
    “Don’t turn on the lights,” Sister cautioned. She and Lisa had each claimed a side of the draperies for peeking. “Look there, Lisa. Another car.”
    “Three of them?” I peeked through the middle of the draperies. Sure enough, two cars were parked on the street. The one Sister was talking about pulled into the driveway.
    Sister sneezed. “Damn, Mouse. These draperies are full of dust. When did you have them cleaned last?”
    “Not long ago.” Actually I couldn’t remember it had been so long.
    “They’re getting out of the car,” Lisa said.
    We watched two policemen walk up to the Phizers’ door and go in.
    “Damn, something’s really going on.” Sister sneezed again. “They don’t send three patrol cars out for nothing.”
    “Maybe they’re fixing to arrest Mr. Phizer for murdering his first wife.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lisa.” It popped out sharper than I meant it to.
    But Lisa was too caught up in her imagination to take offense. “Or maybe it’s Mrs. Phizer they’re arresting.”
    “What’s happening?” Fred was standing in the doorway.
    “There are three police cars at the Phizers’,” Sister said. “Come look. But don’t get too close to the drapes. They’re loaded with dust mites.”
    He came and peered over my head.
    “The third one just came up,” Lisa announced happily.“I think they’re going to arrest one of the Phizers for poisoning that lady.”
    “Hmm.” Fred took the scene in, nodded, and then said what every married man would say, given these circumstances. “Patricia Anne, why don’t you go call Mitzi and find out what’s going on?”
    “Right now while the police are there?”
    “Something could be wrong with one of them. They might need some help.”
    I felt guilty that I hadn’t thought of that.
    Lisa clutched the drapery. “Maybe Mrs. Phizer killed Mr.