Free Chicken Soup & Homicide by Janel Gradowski Page B

can't keep a straight face. She ended up reassuring me that I didn't have to worry. I wasn't sitting across the desk from a killer…because he wasn't worth the effort of killing him." Amy leaned on the island's white marble countertop as the coffeemaker bubbled and hissed happily through its chore. "I bet she plays high-stakes poker every weekend. That seems like something she would do. She can probably tell when a person is lying just by looking at their eyebrows."
    "Eyebrows can indicate if a person is lying?"
    Amy shrugged. "Well, they could. Maybe. If she doesn't play with a bunch of women who have had so many facelifts and Botox treatments their eyebrows have become immobile."
    "Been there, done that for at least half of the equation." Carla had sported the look of stone all summer after making a hasty decision to use paralyzing Botox to help smooth out a couple hairline wrinkles. "Just because she said she didn't shove the knife in his chest, that doesn't mean she's innocent. Do you think she could've had anything to do with the murder?"
    "Honestly, I think she's too smart to get involved with something as messy as murder. If she really didn't like him, I'm sure she has enough money to torture him while he was still breathing. Buying a bunch of bad reviews for his restaurants or getting a lease or two canceled…that sort of thing."
    "True. Mrs. Mahoney didn't get to be the head of a huge corporation by making stupid decisions. Then again, money can't buy sanity. You know, millionaires can be crazy too." Carla slid the bag across the white marble countertop toward Amy. "Do you think you can dig up any more promising suspects? I bought you some white truffle oil as a little advanced thank you. Long shots, crazy enough to have done it weirdos, whoever you can think of."
    Amy pulled the small bottle full of golden yellow oil out of the bag. What a treat, but she didn't know what to think of the gift. "You didn't need to give me this. You know I'll help. All you have to do is ask. But isn't Shepler better suited to the task?"
    "His hands are tied. If he even looks at Pitts the wrong way, he goes running to the chief crying interference." Carla sighed. She stared at the bottle of oil for a few seconds before looking at Amy. "Pitts talked to me in the parking lot while I was waiting to go out to lunch with Bruce yesterday afternoon. During the interview on Sunday, I told Pitts that I had dated Chet when he asked me how I knew him. Bruce told me not to lie about it if it came up. Today, when I refused another Q&A session with Detective Dipstick, he retaliated by telling Bruce that he thought I was cheating on him with Chet. I need you to help figure out who the real murderer is."
    That wasn't just playing bad cop. Pitts was wallowing in a mud pit, splashing muck on everybody. "How about I make some yummy pasta with this that you can share with Shepler to soothe any suspicions Pitts may have stirred up? If Pitts wants to spend his time playing pin the murder on an innocent woman, I think he deserves to be shown up by a murder-solving housewife."
    Carla wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I like truffles, so I'll pass on the pasta. I'm scared. Please help figure out who the real killer is. This is getting really serious, really fast."
    "I will. I promise." Amy poured mugs of coffee for both of them. She set a mug in front of Carla, along with the sugar bowl. "I know it may not feel like it for you, but Pitts is looking at other suspects. He's insinuated to me and Sophie that he thinks we killed Britton so we could win the showdown."
    Carla paused from her task of shoveling sugar into her coffee. "Why didn't you tell me this before? I'm whining about being a suspect, but you're one too."
    Amy leaned back to rest her hips on the cabinets behind her. She crossed her arms over her stomach. "I've assumed Pitts will move on from messing with all of us when he finds a legitimate suspect."
    "I think I'm his legitimate suspect."
    "Maybe at