Free Murder with a Twist by Tracy Kiely Page A

their money. But as much as they have, it’s never enough. No amount is.”
    “The same might be said about Leo,” I observed. “However, far be it for me to speculate on the course of true love and all that. I just want to talk to him. Given recent events I thought he might turn up.”
    Lizzy blew a textbook smoke ring before asking, “What recent events?”
    “Fat Saul’s death. He was looking for Leo. I don’t think it was a social call. With Saul gone, Leo might feel like celebrating. Maybe taking a trip.” I looked pointedly toward the suitcases visible beyond the open bedroom door.
    Annoyance flashed across her face. “Leo had nothing to do with that,” she said quickly.
    “Really?” I asked. “And how do you know this?”
    “Because I know Leo,” she answered. “He may play a bit fast and loose at times, but he’s no killer. Leo just likes a good time, is all. He talks big, but he’s a softie. I don’t know who shot Fat Saul, but it wasn’t Leo.”
    “You knew Fat Saul, too, right?” I asked.
    She nodded. “Yeah. I knew him.”
    “Well, then you know he wasn’t the most rational of men,” I said. “Especially, where money was concerned.”
    “Look, Fat Saul is a … was a hot head,” Lizzy said correcting herself. “He always was. But Leo always paid his debts. That little wife of his was happy to bail him out every time.”
    “Except that this time she couldn’t,” I explained. “This time Leo owed more than what Audrey could withdraw on her own. She’d have to get her aunt and uncle to co-sign everything, and Leo knew that.”
    Lizzy frowned. “How much did he owe?”
    When I told her the amount, her eyes narrowed in anger. She started to say something, but stopped. She glanced at her watch. It was an expensive piece, comprised of white gold and diamonds. “Look, I’ve got to be somewhere,” she said abruptly. “I’m sorry I can’t help you. I don’t know where Leo is. I haven’t seen or heard from him in days. And I don’t expect to. Like I said. We’re friends, but nothing more.” She squashed out her cigarette and stood up. “Now, as fun as this has been, I’ve got an appointment.”
    “Yes, I can see that,” I said after another glance at the bedroom. “Well, thanks for talking to us. If you happen to see Leo, please tell him we’re looking for him.”
    Lizzy was at the door. Opening it, she turned to me and said, “Like I said, I don’t expect to see him anytime soon. I’m sure you’ll see Leo long before I do.”
    “I’ll be sure to send him your best,” I said, before we stepped out into the hall. The door swung shut in our faces with an unceremonious bang. Skippy barked in protest. Turning to me, Nigel said, “Wow. She certainly didn’t like you .”
    “I’m all broke up. Interesting what she said, though, don’t you think?”
    “About my family? Very,” Nigel agreed as we made our way toward the elevator. “I wonder if she’s met Aunt Olive?”
    “I doubt it,” I said. “But that’s not what I meant. She knew that Fat Saul was shot. But the police haven’t released that information to the public yet; not even Frank knew how he died.”
    Nigel came to a sudden stop and kissed me. “If we weren’t already married, Mrs. Martini, I’d ask you again. Now let’s go and get a copy of the Post . I don’t think I’ve ever been a headliner before.”
    I kissed him back. “Don’t be so modest, darling.”

sixteen
    As Lizzy had said, we were the lead item on page six. It read:
    Nigel Martini is back in town, ladies! However, this time the former playboy of Manhattan has brought along his wife, former detective Nicole Landis. The two were spotted in the trendy bar at the Four Seasons with what some patrons described as a ‘small reindeer.’ (Bartender! We’d like what they’re drinking!) The two are in town for cousin Audrey Blackwell’s mega black-tie birthday bash this Saturday. The guest list is rumored to include the former and