Free Secondhand Stiff by Sue Ann Jaffarian

clients, but where’s my win?”
    â€œThe work will help keep your mind off of the situation with Greg’s cousin. And you never know what might happen in the meantime to get in the way of your work. It has happened before.”
    â€œYou mean like a murder that might keep me from doing my job?” I aimed my best scowl at my boss. “Are you afraid I’ll get bumped off and you’ll have to do this stuff instead of me?”
    â€œActually, I was thinking that maybe this work would keep you occupied instead of fretting over this latest murder. Less fret—that’s your win.”
    I leaned in close. “My mother’s here. I think that will keep me occupied.”
    Steele put his head down closer to mine. “If she starts to drive you nuts, you can always use the work as an excuse for some alone time.”
    I had to admit, that was a fairly decent plan. “She’s been here a week. Who’s to say she’s not already driving me crazy?”
    Steele laughed, straightened, and headed back into the kitchen and the moms. “Sorry, ladies, just some confidential legal stuff.”
    â€œWould you like a chicken salad sandwich?” my mother offered. She was at the kitchen counter futzing with the debris of our lunch fixings. “I’d be happy to fix one for you.”
    â€œGrace’s chicken salad is quite excellent, Mike,” Renee added with a gracious smile. “You really should sit and have a bite.”
    Steele consulted his Rolex. “I’m meeting someone for tennis in just over an hour.”
    â€œOn an empty stomach?” My mother appeared horrified with motherly concern.
    If it weren’t so rude and obnoxious, I would have grabbed my cell phone and recorded the exchange. Clark was never going to believe it when I told him about this.
    Steele appeared to be considering something for a few seconds. “Is that chicken all white meat?”
    â€œBut of course,” Mom answered. “Just the breast, grilled last night by Greg himself. And it’s made with low-fat mayonnaise, not that you have to watch your physique.” I swear, my mother almost giggled.
    â€œWell, it’s true, I didn’t have lunch yet. I was too busy getting those files together for Grey.”
    That settled it. Fireplace or not, I was buying a poker to keep handy for Steele’s next visit. I’m sure he’ll give me reason to wield it at some point in the future.
    Steele eyed my mother and twitched his mouth. “Would you consider it terribly rude if I said yes to the sandwich but asked for it to go?”
    â€œThis isn’t Burger King, Steele,” I said, snapping like a disturbed alligator.
    â€œOdelia,” Renee admonished, “don’t be so rude to your guest.”
    â€œYeah, Miss Bossy Pants,” my mother chimed in. “Especially since he’s your boss and all.” She turned her attention to Steele. “But of course I can make the sandwich to go.” She started pulling two slices of whole grain bread out of the package. “I’ll have it ready in a jiff.”
    A few minutes later I was walking Steele to the door. In one hand he held a small paper bag containing the chicken salad sandwich, an apple, and a napkin. All that was missing was a juice box and a few cookies, and he’d be ready for school.
    â€œAre you really going to eat that sandwich?” I asked him. “Or were you just wooing the moms?”
    He winked. “I really do love a good chicken salad. Reminds me of my own mother. Is Grace’s any good?”
    â€œIt’s actually worthy of your elevated palate.”
    â€œThen I can’t wait.”
    Steele started down the walk whistling a little tune. At the curb his Porsche, a new one, waited like a loyal steed. A large sedan drove up, parking directly behind Steele’s car. It was Ron Stevens. Seeing him, Steele waited. When Ron got out of the car and