Free My Boss is a Serial Killer by Christina Harlin Page B

he had about a little property dispute and the
attorney who had solved it for him. I didn’t mind. People were
always asking me to explain the reasons why lawyers cost so much,
as if I were invited to top-secret meetings where, through some
ancient and dangerous ritual, lawyers chose high numbers to call
their hourly billing fees.
    I was curious at the moment about the age
difference between these two, Gus was thirty-five and Lyvia was
probably only slightly over twenty, so I asked about it.
    “ We’re the alpha and omega,” said
Lyvia. “Gus is the oldest, I’m the baby, and in between us are
Jules and Ty.”
    “ Being the only girl and the baby
hasn’t spoiled her, though,” said Gus, handing her a
napkin.
    “ Wait a minute.” I puzzled through
their names in my head. “Your brothers are actually Julius and
Tiberius, aren’t they?”
    Lyvia and Gus exchanged looks. They were
rather impressed with me. Maybe I had just earned my own gold
star.
    “ I, Claudius ,” I said, to
explain my knowledge of Imperial Roman names. “Everything I know, I
learned on television.”
    I was having such a nice time just looking at
Gus Haglund and humming Barry White under my breath (“Can’t Get
Enough of Your Love, Babe”), that I forgot all about Adrienne
Maxwell until Gus asked what it was like working for Bill. Like
most others, Gussie assumed that Bill was a handful.
    “ Yes, he’s a handful,” I said, “but
that’s not always a bad thing. At least, with him, the handful is
always the same and he’s not high-maintenance.”
    Gus cocked his head.
    “ Code word,” I said. “High-maintenance
is the code word for asshole. Bill is a handful, but that’s not the
same thing. If a secretary goes to an interview and is told that
the attorney is high-maintenance, she’d be wise to run the other
way.”
    “ That’s the second time you’ve given me
a code word. Detail-oriented was the other one.”
    “ Legal clerical work is lousy with code
words. It’s considered in poor taste to just say what you mean. I
suppose down at the KCPD, you guys just say what you
mean.”
    “ Words that would curl your
hair.”
    “ Looks like they did,” I said, and
nodded toward his head. He ran a hand through the natural wiriness
of his hair and I thought, oooo, I want to do that . But the
conversation had brought us around to Adrienne Maxwell. “So can you
talk about the case?” I asked.
    “ Not really. Not much.” Gus wasn’t
upset at me for asking. He actually seemed to feel bad that he
couldn’t share more.
    “ Well, speaking generally, then,” I
coaxed. “She seemed at first like a suicide. What made you police
change your minds?”
    “ At first there was just the coroner
and the crime scene investigators. When they turned up a couple of
odd details, the case was turned over to our department, and my
supervisor, Sergeant Jackie Paige, handed it over to
me.”
    “ And the odd details? The witness who
saw the unsub, and something about the drugs?”
    “ You know Clarissa, right? Adrienne
Maxwell’s daughter?”
    “ I know of her.”
    “ Well, Adrienne died from an overdose
of combined over-the-counter medications. Stuff she could have
easily bought on her own. But Clarissa said Adrienne didn’t use
medications. She believed in herbal remedies only. Other than that,
I can’t say more.”
    “ Probably better that you don’t,” I
admitted. “Where I work, information is passed by osmosis. If you
told me, whether or not I said a word, it would be known for three
cubicles in each direction before Monday lunchtime.”
    Gus laughed at my joke. By this point he had
so many gold stars that we could film an episode of Star Trek in
the starry final frontier he’d created in my mind. Carol’s Little
Book of Dating had never seen such a triumphant performance.
    Gus told me, “I’ve got to be careful what I
say. I got reamed a couple years ago for speaking out of turn. I’m
not anxious to go through that ordeal