Free Waiting for Armando (Kate Lawrence Mysteries) by Judith K. Ivie Page B

emerged from his office to share Charles Harris’ unbelievably coincidental lineage with me and shake her head at me for the first time that day.
    Ingrid sat quietly, nursing her beer along with her justifiable anxieties. Office scuttlebutt, collected and shared with us by Margo, placed the burden of suspicion equally at this point on Ingrid, whom everyone seemed to assume was sleeping with Alain, and Vera Girouard , Alain’s long-humiliated wife. We had no way of knowing how Vera’s interview with Diaz had gone, but one had only to consider the impressive number of Girouard’s former lovers to enumerate her motives for doing in Alain. While waiting for Margo and Ingrid, Strutter had made a list of all the women she could think of, BGB staffers and outsiders, who were known to have shared Girouard’s sheets in the years she had been at the firm. Without having to think about it for long at all, she was able to scribble five names on her cocktail napkin, three of whom were secretaries at BGB.
    Despite my embarrassing prevarication, Diaz had seemed disinclined to add me to her list of active suspects, once she had satisfied herself that I had managed to resist Girouard’s charms and had not known any of his jilted paramours long enough to want to do him in on someone else’s behalf. In fact, to my annoyance, she had seemed highly amused at my being caught in a barefaced lie. Even Donovan had cracked a smile. After instructing me to keep myself available, Diaz had released me to cool my flaming cheeks with cold water in the women’s room.
    Margo chuckled traitorously now. “I’m sorry, Sugar, I know it’s embarrassin ’ for you, but you’ve got to admit, it’s funny. I mean, Sally Field, maybe. Not many twenty-year-old black males would know her. But Lena Horne? His mama probably spoon-fed him Lena’s music right along with his Gerbers . You can’t seriously have thought you’d get away with Lena Horne.”
    I raised my head and glared at Margo. “I never seriously thought he read the damned sign-in sheets. He always looked like he was half asleep.”
    “And after two classes and a full night shift on duty, how would you expect him to look?” Strutter wanted to know. “That boy has worked his tail off to get to where he is, and he didn’t get there by doing his job halfway. Believe me, he read the log.”
    “Okay, I’m an idiot. Mea culpa. I will apologize to Charles personally. Enough.” Sulkily, I sipped my drink and attempted to change the subject by addressing Ingrid. “So how much trouble do you think you’re in here?”
    She regarded me wanly. “I’ve been Alain’s personal secretary for nearly six years. I came to BGB right out of college, and I know where all the bodies are buried.” She flinched at her unfortunate choice of words but kept going. “Also, you weren’t the only one who saw us hissing at each other a few days ago in the conference room. Everyone else in the firm assumes that I was the latest in his long line of in-house lovers. How much trouble do you think I’m in?”
    Margo leaned over and gave Ingrid a hug, and Strutter grabbed her hand sympathetically. I opened my mouth and put my big foot in it. Again. “I guess you’re right at the top of Diaz’ list.”
    The three women stared at me as if I had just spit on the table. “Uh, along with Vera Girouard , of course. The wife is always the obvious suspect, especially when she has to put up with a procession of wife wannabes throwing themselves at her husband.”
    Margo looked at Strutter and silently mouthed, wife wannabes?
    “I’m sorry, Ingrid. We know you weren’t among them, but the general perception of your relationship was probably …” I trailed off miserably. Everyone at the table knew exactly what I meant. I liked Ingrid, and I totally believed that she was not personally involved with Girouard . But I couldn’t ignore that by all accounts, the man was damned near irresistible, and Ingrid was a lovely and