Free 4 Decoupage Can Be Deadly by Lois Winston Page B

exhaled, he raised his head and faced me. “Which is the reason I wanted to see you.”
    “Sir?”
    “I’d like your help, Mrs. Pollack.”
    “In what way?”
    “From the tone of the questioning, I suspect the police believe I had something to do with Philomena’s death. They may also suspect my wife. They questioned her quite extensively as well. I need you to find the real killer.”
    “Me? Sir, I’m no detective.”
    “Don’t be so modest, Mrs. Pollack. Over the past year you’ve discovered both Marlys Vandenburg’s killer and Lou Beaumont’s killer.”
    “That’s not exactly what happened. The killers discovered me. And both times nearly made me their next victim.”
    “I’ll supply you with adequate protection while you investigate.”
    “Protection?”
    “My driver, Tino Martinelli, will accompany you throughout your investigation. He’s a former Marine.” Gruenwald stood, strode over to his desk, and returned with a business card that he handed to me. “This is his cell number. He knows to expect your calls and that you’re now his top priority.”
    I stood to leave, holding the card out to him, but he kept his hands at his sides. “I’m honored that you think so highly of my investigational skills, Mr. Gruenwald, but you’ve tremendously inflated my abilities. You need to hire a professional.” And an attorney, but I kept that thought to myself.
    “A detective nosing around would raise suspicions. You’d blend in better. You work here.”
    “You think someone from Trimedia is responsible for Philomena’s death?”
    “I do.”
    Given Philomena’s connections to the rap world, I thought it far more likely her questionable past had finally caught up with her, but I opted for discretion, adding that thought to the others I didn’t voice. Instead, I asked, “Why would you think that?”
    “I know many people here were jealous of Philomena.”
    Jealous, maybe. But jealous enough to kill? I didn’t think so. “That’s not a very persuasive argument for convincing me to stick my nose into a murder investigation.”
    “I have other arguments. Five thousand to be exact.” He slipped his hand into his suit jacket, removed a rectangular piece of paper, and handed it to me.
    My jaw dropped. I sat back down and stared at a check for five thousand dollars, made out to me, from Gruenwald’s personal account.
    “I know you can use the money,” he said.
    “What if I’m not successful?”
    “You will be.”
    “How can you be so certain?”
    “You have incentive.”
    “So I only get to cash the check if I catch Philomena’s killer?”
    “No, the money is yours. I have faith that you’re an honorable woman and will work hard to accomplish the task for which I’m paying you.”
    “I could still fail.”
    “I’m confident you won’t.”
    I decided Alfred Gruenwald was certifiable. However if he was willing to pay me five thousand dollars for a wild goose chase, who was I to complain? I folded the check in half. “Before I agree, you’ll need to clarify a few things for me. Full disclosure. No holding back.”
    “Such as?”
    “What were you and Philomena arguing about behind the booth   Sunday afternoon?”
    Now it was his turn to drop his jaw. The color leached out of his face. “How do you know about that?”
    “I overheard you.”
    Gruenwald’s demeanor quickly segued from overconfident to mightily pissed. “So you’re the one who told the police. That’s why I’m their prime suspect.” He pointed a finger at me. “This is all your fault. I should fire you right now.”
    Great. Me and my big mouth . “You’ll also have to fire the entire Bling! staff.”
    “Why would I do that?”
    “Because every single one of them in that booth also heard you and Philomena. She’s not exactly quiet and reserved, and your voice carries even when you’re not shouting.”
    Gruenwald dropped his bluster. “They all heard?”
    I nodded. “Everyone watched the two of you and