Free Working Stiff by Annelise Ryan

right?”
    I nod.
    â€œYou weren’t there during the autopsy this morning, were you?”
    I shake my head but offer no explanation.
    â€œWhy not?”
    There is a long silence while I stare at the walls and Arnie stares at me. Then I have a brainstorm. “I’m sorta kinda too close to the case,” I tell him. “I know the victim.” I hope this will be explanation enough. At the hospital, it was always understood that no one would work on anyone they were related to if it could be avoided. I feel certain the same principles apply here.
    â€œKnow her how?” Arnie persists.
    I let out a perturbed sigh, realizing that Arnie won’t give up until he knows it all. “I think I might be a suspect,” I admit.
    â€œA suspect?” I expect Arnie to throw me out of his lab immediately. Instead he says, “Wait, let me guess. Your almost ex was dipping his wick in the victim.”
    â€œYeah,” I say, surprised and impressed by Arnie’s ability to ferret out the truth. Later I’d learn the dink had known the whole story all along and had, in fact, assisted Izzy on the autopsy in my absence.
    â€œSo did you do it?” Arnie asks.
    â€œNo! Of course not.”
    â€œBet you would have liked to though, huh?”
    I start to utter another protest but quickly realize Arnie will see right through it. “The thought might have crossed my mind a time or two,” I admit sheepishly.
    â€œGood.”
    â€œGood? I admit to contemplating the homicide of a woman who is now dead and you say good? ”
    â€œAbsolutely. One of the most important things you’ll learn in this job is who you can trust. Had you told me you’d never thought about killing the woman who stole your husband, I’d know you were lying to me. It’s perfectly natural to hate the other woman, to wish all kinds of pestilence on her, and to dream up at least six miserable ways for her to die, preferably with you as the executioner.” He stops and gives me another long look. “Though I gotta say, if your husband was baking his cake in someone else’s oven when he had you at home, he must be a total idiot.”
    I’m flattered. And more impressed with Arnie each passing minute. “Thanks,” I say, bestowing him with my best smile.
    â€œSo do you think your old man might have offed her?”
    My mood does an immediate nosedive. I don’t know what has me more upset, the thought that David might have killed Karen or the fact that I even care.
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t think he did it. But I saw—”
    I stop, realizing I’m about to tell Arnie about the argument I witnessed. Until I have a chance to evaluate things a little more I don’t want that information to get out. But Arnold Paranoianegger zeroes in right away. “What? What did you see?” he pushes. I know in my heart he’ll never let it go and I resign myself to spilling the beans. But then the phone rings and I realize that for once, the Fates are on my side. My salvation proves painfully short-lived, however.
    â€œYeah, she was here,” Arnie says into the phone, widening his eyes at me. “But she just this second left. Want me to see if I can catch her?” He listens, says, “Hold on,” and then hits a button that sends the caller to Hold Hell. “It’s Detective Hurley,” he tells me. “You know him?”
    â€œOh, yeah.” I roll my eyes and lick my lips. Talk about conflicted!
    â€œHe wants to talk to you. Should I tell him I wasn’t able to catch you? There’s a back stairway to your left that will take you straight out to the parking lot. Go right now and by the time Hurley figures it out you’ll be long gone.”
    â€œYou’d do that for me? How do you know you can trust me, that I’m not a killer?”
    â€œBecause you didn’t lie to me. And because Izzy says so and his