Free A Secondhand Murder by Lesley A. Diehl

loose fitting, unstructured jacket, no lining, boxy, fashionable several years back.
    â€œ Good. You seem to be on top of your inventory.”
    I took the jacket and noted the tag hanging off the label in the back. From our shop. “It’s ours, but what’s the stain on the sleeve and front?”
    â€œ Blood. Valerie’s blood. Whoever killed her wore this jacket over his or her clothes while stabbing our victim, ran out your side door near the dressing rooms, then tossed the item in the dumpster down the street.”
    â€œ It had to have been a woman, someone from the crowd of customers that had been swarming the place on opening day. I’d have noticed if a man had come in.” I shifted my eyes to Alex and—I couldn’t help myself—smiled.
    â€œ Eve’s right,” said Madeleine. “A man would have stood out. I can’t remember any that day. Not that we don’t welcome them in to shop for the women in their lives.” Madeleine smiled at Alex.
    â€œ And these?” Frida pulled a pair of leather gloves out of the jacket’s pockets.
    â€œ Also tagged. Also ours.” I reached out for them.
    Frida moved them beyond my grasp. “Evidence. There’s Valerie’s blood on the gloves and we’re examining them for epithelials.”
    â€œ It could be a man,” said Alex.
    â€œ Weren’t you listening?” I asked. “We just covered that.”
    â€œ Not entirely. Someone could have come through the side door, grabbed some items from the return rack just outside the dressing rooms, put them on, stabbed her, then left through the same door.”
    â€œ That door is always locked from the inside.” At least, it’s supposed to be.
    â€œ Maybe Valerie let someone in,” said Alex.
    â€œ How could that person get the knife from house goods in the main part of the store without either Madeleine or me seeing him? Hims, remember, are noticeable.”
    â€œ Maybe Valerie had the knife on her. Perhaps she had picked one out of the display and taken it with her to the dressing rooms.” He certainly was quick with the theories.
    Frida shook her head. “Why would she do that?”
    â€œ She was looking at the knives. I noticed that,” said Madeleine.
    â€œ She took the knife for protection.” Yet another bold speculation on his part.
    â€œ From whom?” I gave a snort of disbelief. He was spinning a wild tale here. Something I suspected he liked to do to get everyone riled up. He had done the same with me at the restaurant when he suggested I was the intended victim.
    â€œ From the person she opened the door for, the person she arranged to meet at your shop.” He leaned back in his chair and grinned. Smug.
    Frida leaned forward toward Alex, her usually soft brown eyes now hard as black ice. “You seem to have a keen interest in this case, Mr. Montgomery. Ms. Appel told me you came into her store the day after the murder, saying you’d been hired to get information about Mrs. Sanders. Care to tell us what that’s about and who hired you?”
    â€œ Can’t. Private between me and my client.”
    â€œ Your client could be a killer. Have you thought of that?”
    â€œ I have and if I thought there was anything illegal going on, I’d drop the client and tell you first thing.” He had the look of an innocent schoolboy.
    I didn’t buy that angelic façade for a minute. I caught Frida rolling her eyes and knew that she didn’t either.
    Frida stood and walked around the table until she stood inches behind Alex. “You need watching, Mr. Montgomery.”
    Oh, boy, did he, but not in the manner she had in mind.
    He smirked, unperturbed by the threat. “Want me to try on that jacket to see if it’s a fit, Detective?”
    â€œ I know you didn’t kill her, but I hope you’re right about your client’s innocence. Meantime, I’m going