Free On the Street Where you Live by Mary Higgins Clark Page B

not straightened out, he thought grimly.
    There had been twenty-four guests and five catering staff in the Lawrence home the night before Martha vanished.
    â€œPete, after we assemble them, we’ll do the usual. Have a little talk with them, one by one, and try to find out if any of them lost anything at the party. Our top priority is to learn if anyone had been wearing or carrying a gray silk scarf with metallic beading.”
    Tommy pulled out the list of the guests who had been at the party and laid it on the desk. “I’m going to call Will Stafford and ask if I can have everyone meet at his house after the memorial Mass,” he said. “If I clear that with him, we’ll start making phone calls.”
    He reached for the phone.
    Stafford had just returned from lunch. “Sure you can meet at my house,” he agreed, “but you’d better schedule it a little later. There’s a message on my desk that says the Lawrences are inviting some close friends back to the house for a buffet luncheon after the Mass. I’m sure most of the people who were at the party will be included in that.”
    â€œThen I’ll ask them to be at your place at three o’clock. Thanks, Mr. Stafford.”
    I’d give a lot to be at that luncheon, Tommy thought. He nodded at Pete. “Now that we have the place and the time, let’s start making these calls. We’re supposed to be at Emily Graham’s house in an hour. We’re going to try to sweet-talk her into letting that backhoe dig up the rest of her yard.”
    They began making the phone calls and reached everyone except Bob Frieze. “He’ll call you back presently,” an employee at the restaurant promised.
    â€œTell him to call me back fast,” Tommy ordered. “I have to leave here soon, not presently.”
    â€œBetter than I expected,” he told Pete as they compared the results of the other calls. With the exception of two elderly couples who could not possibly have been involved in Martha’s death, all the other people who had been at the party were planning to attend the Mass on Saturday.
    He dialed The Seasoner restaurant again, and this time Bob Frieze accepted the call. The request to meet at Stafford’s house brought a vigorous protest.
    â€œSaturday afternoon and evening are very busy in my restaurant,” he snapped. “We’ve spoken any number of times, Detective Duggan. I can assure you I have nothing further to add to what I’ve already told you.”
    â€œI don’t think you’d want it leaked to the press that you’re resisting cooperating with the police,” Tommy retorted.
    When he hung up with Frieze, he smiled in satisfaction. “I like leaning on that guy,” he told Walsh. “It feels good.”
    â€œIt felt good listening to you lean on him. When I was on the force in Spring Lake everyone had that guy’s number. The first Mrs. Frieze is a lovely woman who got dumped after giving him three nice kids and putting up with his little escapades for over thirty years. We all knew that Bob Frieze was a womanizer. And he’s got a lousy disposition. When I was a rookie eight years ago, I ticketed him for speeding, and trust me, he did everything he could to get me fired.”
    â€œWhat I’m beginning to wonder is whether or not his second marriage has cured him of womanizing,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “He’s suddenly getting mighty defensive.”
    He got up. “Come on. We have just enough time to grab some lunch before we meet Graham.”
    Tommy suddenly realized that he hadn’t had a bite of food since someone had brought in coffee and bagels hours earlier. For a moment he wrestled with his own demons, then settled on the order he would place at McDonald’s. A Super Mac, complete with a double order of french fries. And a large Coke.

sixteen ________________
    A T TWO FORTY-FIVE, Emily parked in