Free Relative Chaos by Kay Finch

rod that attaches to the hooks above
the back side doors. I grabbed an armload of future costumes and
headed down the stairs. Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen.
Sounded like McCall was into his work.
    He had parked behind me. I made a short detour around his
white pickup to peer inside. You can tell a lot about a man by how he
keeps his truck. The interior was clean and, I hated to admit, very organized. The backseat held crates of office supplies. No empty cups
or discarded wrappers. The front console held only a tin of Altoids
mints.
    The clothes were getting heavy, so I hit my unlock button and
placed them on the backseat before retrieving the clothes rod. As I
struggled to put the rod up, I noticed a dark unmarked van down the
street, backing into a driveway. The van was still maneuvering for
position when I finished hanging the clothes. I stood behind my open
door, stalling as I watched three young men pile out.
    They were at the house Aunt Millie told me belonged to Lori
Gilmore. She'd said Lori entertained men at the house while her
husband was away, but three men at a time?
    The garage door rose, and a fourth man came outside to greet the
others. He was tall and hefty, dressed for business in slacks with a
white shirt and tie, while the first three wore jeans and T-shirts. Probably Lori's husband-home for a change-which might mean no
hanky-panky for Lori today, but I had enough problems without worrying about theirs.
    I closed my door and turned back to Featherstone's house. McCall was rolling a garbage can to the curb on a hand cart he might
have brought with him. His focus was on the men I'd been watching.
    "You know them?" he asked.
    I shook my head. "Nope."

    The men carried stacks of small oblong boxes from the garage to
the open back doors of the van. White boxes with no noticeable identifying marks-at least none I could see. Of course, we were several
house-lengths away.
    "Third time this week," McCall said. "Every time, more boxes.
Something weird's going on."
    "Weird like what?" I asked.
    "I don't know, just a feeling I have."
    "You get these feelings often?"
    He looked at me. "Yeah, matter of fact"
    "What's your batting average? You usually right or wrong?"
    "Right, nine times out of ten."
    I glanced back to the men. Funny how before the murder I never
would have noticed them, but now everything seemed suspicious.
    "They probably sell stuff out of their home," I said. "Maybe they
have an eBay business."
    McCall nodded. "A lot of that going on these days."
    "You ever meet the Gilmores?"
    "I've seen them come and go," he said. "Never officially met.
Husband works long hours away from home, except for these box
pickup days, whatever that's about."
    "You're pretty observant."
    He grinned. "Look who's talking."
    I frowned, wondering if he meant that as a compliment.
    "Did my truck pass your inspection?" he said.
    I put a hand on my chest and pasted on my best whatever-are-youtalking-about expression.
    "Just giving you a hard time," he said. "Tell you the truth, I don't
blame you for checking me out. Especially not with this murder happening right under our noses."
    I nodded. Yeah, that's the reason. "Do the cops know that it, uh,
happened, near here? I mean, have they found the actual site?"
    McCall shrugged. "Haven't heard, but they're narrowing the suspect list."
    "They have a list?" I said.
    "They had one. Thanks to yours truly it's now a very short list."
    "How short?"

    "Far as I'm concerned, a list of one. Saw the guy myself. Blond,
five-ten, a hundred seventy-five, give or take ten pounds"
    My heart pounded so hard, I was sure McCall could hear it thudding.
    "He's been lurking around the golf course the past two weeks,"
McCall continued.
    "Lurking?"
    "Lurking, stalking, whatever."
    "For two weeks."
    "Right. Troxell said she'd call me as soon as they have him."
    "How close were you to this person?" I concentrated on taking
even, steady breaths.
    "Close enough," he said. "I