Free Full House: A Laid-Back Bay Area Mystery (The Jake Samson & Rosie Vicente Detective Series Book 3) by Shelley Singer Page A

keep things moving. He always relied on me anyway, but in a partnership, each man has his own area of expertise.”
    “Yeah,” I said. “But what does any of that matter, with the world ending?”
    He laughed an “oh, you rascal” laugh.
    We were back in his office again. He glanced at his desk. A new phone message memo sat in the middle of his blotter. He set it aside, settling back in his chair.
    “Now, about the world ending,” he began. “Yes, there was the flood to consider. But Tom’s not crazy, you know. You do know that?” I shrugged. “Anyway, he wanted to keep the business going. For the employees, for the cash flow.”
    “If he’s dead, what happens to his share of the business?”
    He seemed surprised by the question. “Why, it goes to his wife, of course.”
    “One more thing. Do you know his other partner, this Pincus guy up in Tahoe?”
    “We’ve met.” His tone and expression were noncommittal.
    “You don’t like him?”
    “He’s a smart businessman, runs a nice little casino.” Not one clue to his feelings.
    “You think he could have something to do with this?”
    “You know what they say about lying down with dogs.”
    “You think Noah’s picked up some fleas?”
    He grunted. “I’ll tell you, Jake, I wouldn’t accuse anyone of anything. But I just don’t know.”
    On my way out, I considered inviting Doreen for a beer to pump her about the company, but she wasn’t around. The Toyota was no longer in the lot. Maybe some other time.
    I stopped for half an hour at a place I knew in Glen Ellen, a reputed haunt of Jack London’s, and had a beer by myself while I went back over the Yellow Brick road. The rest of the day was spoken for. I had gotten roped into an afternoon with the folks, which was okay, and Eva’s niece, which might not be okay. After that, I had my own plans for dinner.

– 9 –
    I stopped at the ark on my way home to pick up the information about Marjorie’s grandmother. Beatrice wasn’t around, but she’d left it with Arnold. It was just one o’clock when I walked up to the house.
    Pa and Eva were sitting on lawn chairs reading copies of an East Bay weekly they’d picked up on a stroll along College Avenue after brunch that morning. They were wearing new straw hats of wildly different styles. His was a rakish cowboy hat with a small feather, hers a wide-brimmed fantasy with a bunch of grapes nestled along the brim. I thought of Carl Hinks.
    “No bananas?” I asked. “No pineapple?”
    “Carmen Miranda I’m not,” Eva laughed.
    “You’re better looking,” my father said.
    “Speaking of good looking,” Eva said, “it’s too bad you got plans for tonight. Lee is such a lovely girl.”
    “I’ll meet her,” I said reasonably. “I’m going shopping on Telegraph Avenue with you.”
    “That’s okay,” my father said, grinning viciously. “The niece is staying over in Berkeley tonight. We’re going touring tomorrow, then dinner tomorrow night before she goes home again to… what is it called, Eva?”
    “Petaluma,” Eva said.
    “The whole weekend? That’s nice,” I said. “I can have dinner with you tomorrow, but I’m working during the day.”
    “Another one of your articles that never gets printed?” my father asked.
    “That’s right, Pa. Tell me, Eva,” I added, just to make conversation, “what did you tell Lee about me?”
    “About you?” She laughed. “Why about you? Lee comes to Berkeley; she’s got friends. Two birds— me, her friends. Who said anything about you?”
    I sighed. I was afraid it was going to be a long afternoon. Of course, I wasn’t exactly surrounded by adoring women at the moment, anyway. My eight-month romance with Iris Hughes, the gorgeous psychotherapist, had finished evaporating that summer, and neither of us was watching when the last little bit of it disappeared into nowhere. I was still seeing Chloe Giannapoulos occasionally. She was my dinner date that night. But she’d become involved