Free Nursing a Grudge is Murder (A Maternal Instincts Mystery) by Diana Orgain

gravel on the front path crunched and spattered between a vehicle’s tires. I peeked through the shades and saw a Harley-Davidson pull to a stop. It looked like a classic or vintage bike: really big, and shiny, and well taken care of.
    A man dressed in a leather jacket, black jeans and boots dismounted from the bike. He pulled off his helmet to reveal a head full of dark hair, but his face was turned away from me. He crossed to the front stoop. The doorbell sounded throughout the house.
    I heard footsteps approaching from the direction in which Brent had disappeared, so I took a seat on the couch and attempted to look casual, as though I hadn’t just been spying on his guest.
    From my position in the living room I could see Brent open the door, but not the man on the doorstep that he was addressing with a curt, “Can I help you?”
    I heard the man say through a thick Spanish accent, “Good afternoon, Mr. Miles. I’m Vicente Domingo. Mr. Barramendi sent me.”
    What?
    Vicente who? So this was who Barramendi had hired instead of me?
    I watched Brent step aside and motion for the man who had just stuck a knife in my back to step in.
    Vicente came into the foyer and smiled. He was strikingly handsome. His dark hair was offset with sparkling green eyes that creased a bit about the edges when he smiled. He brushed some drizzle off his leather jacket, then rubbed his hands together to dry them.
    “You have great timing, Mr. Domingo,” Brent said, “as I’ve received a visit from Ms. Connolly. She’s been hired by Jill Harrington to,” he glanced at me and practically spit out his next line, “to investigate me, I think.”
    Vicente gave me an appraising look as if he was a matador assessing the bull before a fight.
    I felt a little unnerved, recalling that normally the bull is slaughtered in those fights, but only after being weakened by lances and spikes stabbed in its back.
    I stood.
    Who did this guy think he was, anyway?
    Vicente Domingo? V.D. in my book.
    He was sexy, that was for sure, but a P.I. and my competition? I couldn’t wait to run a check on him.
    V.D. tapped his chin. “Connolly? I have heard very good things about you.”
    I cleared my throat to interrupt him. The last thing I wanted was to hear about my reputation from this guy. “Excellent, then we should have no problem getting a few things cleared up. Mr. Miles, can you tell me about the phone calls you placed to Jill Harrington?"
    Brett frowned. “What?”
    “Jill has reported receiving threatening phone calls from you.”
    Brent’s face reddened. “She did, did she? Who did she report that to? You? The police? What did she say I threatened her with? She doesn't work for me anymore so I couldn't very well fire her!”
    I realized now that I hadn’t gotten any details from Jill on what she’d done at
Tartare
, so I asked, “In what capacity did Ms. Harrington work for you?
    Brent looked taken aback and glanced at Vicente. Vicente shrugged, as if to say it was okay to answer my question, but he raised an eyebrow indicating to proceed with caution - aka don’t give too much detail.
    Whatever, the guy was acting like a lawyer.
    “I thought you people did background checks and such. Are we starting from scratch?” Brent said.
    Vicente studied me.
    I took a deep breath trying to remain calm.
    “She was a goddamn hostess. What else would she be?”
    “What about the threatening calls, sir, did you make them?” I asked.
    Brent snorted. “Oh, back to that? Of course not. I’d already fired her—”
    Jill had been fired? Why?
    Before I could ask, Vicente stepped forward and said, “What is Ms. Harrington alleging?”
    “That Mr. Miles was phoning and demanding she take down a negative review.”
    Brent pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh that? Well, yes I did phone Ms. Harrington one time and asked her to give us another chance.”
    I tried to contain my glee.
    Brent Miles had just confessed to the phone calls.
    “So, she declined to