Free Swan Song (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) by Lee Hanson

a business seminar several months earlier which Kate Winslow had attended. A picture of Kate in Bay Street Realty’s brochure had refreshed her memory of the occasion.
    Julie had taken a seat by a front window to watch for Kate and had just seen her step out of a new Mercedes sedan. As her luncheon guest approached the hostess stand, Julie waved to catch her attention. Kate saw her and waved back, smiling. A slender blond woman in her fifties, Kate Winslow looked a good ten years younger; she exuded ease and confidence as she made her way to the table. It was easy to see how Bay Street attracted upscale clients.
    “Julie, how nice to see you,” she said, as they air-kissed. “This is a lovely surprise.”
    “I hope I’m not taking you away from anything important,” said Julie.
    “No, no. In fact, your timing couldn’t be better! I dropped a pot and cracked the glass on my counter-top stove,” she said, laughing. “They’re installing a new one later today. I left the whole afternoon open for it, even though they won’t be there until after three. You know I only live across the street. I have a townhouse in Venezia.”
    The waitress came then, and they ordered Cobb salads and another glass of wine for Kate.
    “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Dianna, Kate. You may not know, but I live next to Lake Eola. I was running out there that morning. I confess that I didn’t make the connection between the two of you until recently. I’m so sorry.”
    As if pulled upward by an invisible string, Kate’s inner brows knit together as sadness swiftly changed her expression.
    “Thank you. I miss her so much, Julie. I had no idea how much I depended on her, both professionally and personally.”
    Before she went any further, Julie thought it appropriate to explain her intent.
    “I saw Dianna lifted from the swan boat that morning, Kate. It’s haunted me ever since. I’ve offered my services to a private investigator working for the Wielands.”
    Kate leaned forward with interest.
    “Oh, yes. He came to see me. Joe Garrett.”
    “Right. He’s a good friend of mine. Our offices are side-by-side.”
    The waitress returned with their wine and salads, and Julie resumed when she left.
    “So, do you mind if I ask you some questions about Dianna?”
    “No, not at all! I don’t believe she committed suicide, Julie. I’ve been utterly dismayed by the newspaper stories. I’ll do anything I can to help you and Joe.”
    “Great. Well, let’s start with business,” said Julie. “How long were you two partners?”
    “Well…partners…just the last five years. I hired Dianna right out of college when she was only twenty-one. She went to UCF, a Business Admin major. The market was bad and she couldn’t find a job, so she got a real estate license and came looking for a broker to place it with.”
    “You didn’t mind hiring someone that young and inexperienced?”
    “Not a bit. I prefer to train my agents from scratch so they do things properly. You know the broker always gets left ‘holding the bag’, so to speak, having to deal with disgruntled customers and lawsuits.
    “I’ve been burned in the past by two experienced agents. One misrepresented important facts to a buyer, and another one held back an offer on an apartment building so a friend of his could buy it for less. Sometimes the more they know, the more they think they can get away with.”
    Julie nodded in agreement.
    “Speaking of ‘disgruntled customers’…can you tell me about Mike Menello, the contractor Dianna was dealing with, the one who filed a complaint?”
    “Oh, him. His claim was absolutely baseless,” she said. “He was inexperienced and operating on a shoestring. That he was holding Dianna responsible for his loss was incomprehensible! When the police asked me if she had any enemies, Mike Menello was the first person who came to mind…the only one, for that matter. I don’t know why they haven’t taken him into