Free Muller, Marcia - [McCone 02] - Ask the Cards a Question 3S(v1)(html) Page B

to…” She paused, both embarrassed and pleased.
    I grinned, and she grinned back, and then we both snickered like boys in the locker room.
    “Just what the doctor ordered,” Linnea said.
    “It’s amazing what a new man will do for your spirits.” I got up and went to the closet. “Anyone who can make you turn to housework…” I gestured at the chocolate bar on the coffee table. “Did you buy the candy too?”
    “Yesterday afternoon, at Safeway. I ate the last one that cop gave you, and I wanted to replace it.”
    With a flash of relief, I took out a black wool pantsuit and reached for the clothes brush. “Lord, you didn’t have to do that!” And I wished she hadn’t; the chocolate bar she had eaten had been Hershey’s, an excellent brand. As far as serious chocolate lovers were concerned, the best thing about Ghirardelli was the wrapper.
    “Linnea,” I said, brushing at my jacket, “Gus told me Molly was here with you around five o’clock the day she was killed. How did she seem?”
    Linnea frowned and began fiddling with one of her braids. “What do you mean?”
    “Was she happy? Unhappy? Upset about the fortune teller?”
    “Oh.” She considered. “I’d say she wasn’t in the best of moods.”
    “How so?”
    “Well, she… she was kind of short-tempered.”
    “About what?”
    She shrugged sullenly. “I don’t really remember.”
    I tried another tack. “Was that when she mentioned her bad session with Madame Anya?”
    “Yes. Did you go see her last night?”
    “Uh-huh. She’s a strange lady.”
    “Old bat!”
    “She’s not that bad. She’s lonely.”
    Again a sullen shrug.
    “Anyway,” I said, “Madame Anya wouldn’t tell me about the session with Molly—she claims it has to remain confidential. What exactly did Molly tell you?”
    Linnea pressed a hand to her forehead. “Wow, everything kind of blends together lately.”
    “Since you’ve been drinking so much.”
    Instantly, I regretted it. Linnea lowered her eyes to her lap and picked at a thread on her caftan. In a moment, she said, “Why do you have to harp on that today? Why is it that every time we talk you have to bring that up?”
    I wasn’t aware I had been. “I’m sorry. You meant, things are mixed up since your divorce and all.”
    “Yes, since my divorce and all.” Her tone cruelly mimicked mine.
    I turned to the full-length mirror on the closet door, tucking in my red blouse. “Anyway, do you remember what she said?”
    Linnea sighed and set down her coffee cup with a clunk. “Some damned thing about how Anya’s advice would only get her deeper in trouble,” she said irritably. “There was something about how she wished she’d never seen the cards. Christ, Sharon, it was just some stupid, superstitious thing. Why am I supposed to remember?”
    Because Molly took the trouble to remember your problems, I thought. I slipped on my jacket and arranged the collar of my blouse, gearing up to ask the question I really dreaded.
    “Lin, while you were cleaning last night, did you come across that piece of drapery cord I cut off while I was putting up the new curtains?”
    “What cord?”
    “It was rolled up on the coffee table. A white cord.”
    “I don’t remember it.”
    “You didn’t see it on the coffee table, or anyplace else?”
    “No. For Christ’s sake, Sharon, what’s so important about some leftover cord?”
    I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll turn into one of those old ladies who collects string.”
    She giggled. “A string-collecting detective who ties up her suspects and makes them confess all.”
    I smiled, glad her good humor had returned. “It could be a professional asset.” I twisted my hair into a loose knot at the nape of my neck and gathered up my bag just as the phone rang.
    Linnea answered it. “Hank. He wants you to come over to All Souls.”
    “Thanks.” As I crossed the room, I said, “Look, Lin, try to take it easy today. Don’t think you have to do everything at