Free Digging Up Trouble by Heather Webber Page A

the front steps, paused on the landing, adjusted her glasses, and glowered at us as well. Hmmph. Nothing like feeling welcome.
    "You heard her," Mrs. Potato Head said. "The both of you need to leave. Greta needs to rest."
    "You too, Noreen," Greta said. "I want to be alone."
    A look of hurt flashed across Mrs. Potato Head's face. "I can understand that, but now is the time you should be with family."
    Although Bill and I had been dismissed, neither of us made ready to leave. Apparently I wasn't the only one with a nosy streak.
    Or was he waiting until everyone left to talk his way into the Grabinsky house?
    Greta reached out, touched Noreen's arm. Her voice had softened noticeably. "Thanks, but no. I truly wish to be alone."
    When Greta turned to go back into the house, I noted that she and Noreen had the same profile . . . and without the Sally Jesse glasses, the same eyes. Sisters, probably.
    Greta closed the door with much more caution than when she'd opened it.
    Well. I couldn't say this was a wasted trip, not with overhearing Greta being threatened.
    Russ had been a blackmailer. Wasn't that interesting?
    And Bill was desperate to find "paperwork."
    Noreen came down the steps, her chin held high. False bravado, if the tears in her eyes were any indication.
    "Noreen, may I have a word with you?" A strained smile tugged at Bill's lips.
    She sniffed, and looked directly at Bill without blinking. "Now's not a good time. I'm worried about my sister. Greta isn't used to being alone."
    Aha! They were sisters. Good to know my Clue-playing skills could actually come in handy once in a while.
    Bill spoke through clenched teeth. "When, then?"
    Noreen wrung her hands. "I'll be around."
    I looked between the two of them. "You two know each other well?"
    Without answering, Noreen said, "I must go." She hurried down the front walk, opened the door to a small compact, and drove away.
    I looked a question at Bill.
    "Not very well," he said.
    My eyebrow arched.
    "Did you see the man from the kitchen?"
    "He was gone by the time I made it back there. I've got to go too."
    My other eyebrow arched as he walked away, but I wasn't sure why. All I knew was that my instincts were rarely wrong. Bill and Lindsey's explanation about hiring me just wasn't ringing true.
    I walked back to my truck with a lot of questions.
    Who was blackmailing Greta?
    Who had Russ been blackmailing?
    And the most important . . .
    Had Russ been murdered?

Nine

    I resisted temptation to head to the hospital to visit Tam.
    Okay, okay, so I didn't want to hear Brickhouse's "I told you so" about my disastrous visit with Greta.
    It was closing in on two o' clock, and as I headed to the office to get some paperwork done, I called Kit to make sure the mini was going okay.
    He answered his cell on the third ring. "Yo."
    "What kind of greeting is that?"
    "My kind."
    I imagined him winking when he said it. He had a playful tone in his voice. "Everything going okay?"
    "No dead bodies."
    "Ha. Ha."
    "The brick pavers are laid, the fire pit is done, the flowers are going in now. We should be back at the office in another two hours or so."
    "Did Jean-Claude show up?"
    "Ten minutes late. Looks like death warmed up and spit out."
    I didn't want to think about death. I turned right onto Jaybird, heading toward TBS.
    "He say anything?" I ventured. "About what he's been doing?" I'd kept my gigolo suspicions to myself. Well, I'd shared them with Ana, who said she'd look into it.
    I wondered exactly what kind of connections she had in that area, but truly, there were some things about my cousin even I didn't want to know.
    "Nah."
    "Any suspicions?"
    "Nah."
    I rolled my eyes. "You're so helpful."
    "That's what you pay me for," he said, and I heard a big WOOF in the background.
    "Is that BeBe?"
    "I, um—" Static suddenly filled the line. "You're breaking up!"
    "Kit," I warned, knowing exactly what he was doing. Another W OOF echoed across the line.
    "Gotta go, Nina."
    I stared at my silent