Free The Darkness Knows by Cheryl Honigford

killer. The police are handling that.”
    â€œPosh,” Vivian said. “It’s part of your job, the way I see it. Find the killer and you don’t have to protect me anymore. It’s two birds with one stone, really.”
    â€œVery sensible.”
    â€œI’m nothing if not sensible,” she replied, inspecting her manicure before primly placing her hands on her lap.
    The detective smirked and said nothing.
    Luckily, the Michigan Avenue Bridge was down, the flags lining both sides flapping in the breeze blowing in off the lake. If the drawbridge had been up, as it often was, they would have to wait at least ten minutes before they could cross. Vivian gazed out at the river and the buildings rising on either side to create an artificial canyon of steel and stone. The morning sunlight sparkled off the water. Vivian spotted another newsstand on the south side of the bridge, and she closed her eyes until they’d passed it.
    â€œIf it’s about money,” she began, tentatively opening her eyes again, “I’ll be more than happy to pay for your services.”
    Mr. Haverman glanced sidelong at her, a lazy grin sliding onto his face. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
    â€œSo that’s it? You’ll do it?” Vivian asked, incredulous. She hadn’t expected his motives to be that transparent.
    â€œFor the right price.”
    â€œA little money can persuade you that easily?”
    â€œI hope we’re talking more than a little…”
    Vivian dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. Money could be discussed later, she thought. At the moment, she was just thrilled at the prospect of being able to do something productive about her situation.
    â€œSo where should we start with the investigation?” she asked.
    â€œNow wait a second,” the detective said, holding up one large hand. “There’s no we about it.”
    Vivian frowned and pursed her lips. “I just want to ask some questions around the station. That wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?” She turned to the detective, lowered her chin, and peered up at him through carefully mascaraed lashes.
    The detective’s eyes remained on the road. “I’ll handle all the questioning, Miss Witchell.”
    Vivian let her breath out through her nose and narrowed her eyes in irritation. “Well, I’m not just going to sit around and wait for someone to smack me on the side of the head with a liquor bottle,” she said.
    Mr. Haverman took his eyes from the road only briefly to glance at her, one eyebrow arched. “I wouldn’t recommend that, no,” he said.
    Vivian glared at the man’s sharp profile for a few seconds, then sat back in her seat. “Well, I’m going to ask some questions,” she said quietly. “And you can’t stop me.” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth, conscious that the man’s eyes were on her again.
    He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his voice was serious. “And just where would you start with your questioning ?”
    Vivian ignored his condescending tone and answered with confidence. “Marjorie’s costars on The Golden Years . I think they’d know her better than anyone.”
    â€œGood a place as any, I suppose.”
    Vivian scowled. “You’re just humoring me.”
    He continued to steer the car down Michigan Avenue, the fading green of Grant Park flashing briefly to their left. He made a right onto Madison, and when they passed under the El, a train overhead rendered any conversation fruitless for a few seconds. Vivian eyed the fall hat display in the front window of Mandel Brothers Department Store as they paused at the corner of State and Madison.
    â€œI don’t care if you are,” she said with a wave of her hand. “As long as you help, I think you’ll find that I’m not quite the flibbertigibbet you think I