Free DEATH COMES TO AN OPEN HOUSE by Yvonne Whitney Page A

isn’t Ed or Vivian. The tells. Ed was telling the truth all the way through.”
    “I was watching. Looked right at us, voice never wavered. Those are tells, right?”
    “Right. Leaned toward us, arms not crossed protectively across his chest, no hesitation at those critical moments. You got it. Contractions, too. You tend to speak more formally when you’re lying. So Ed and Vivian are out.”
    “Now what?”
    “Now we watch and wait!”
     
     

 Chapter 14
    It was not the usual Tuesday morning sales meeting. The entire staff, even Kevin, arrived early. Male voices could be heard in Ed’s office. Inside the sales room, the topic was no longer sympathy for Jean. The rumor was that there were thirty-three thousand dollars worth of Theresa’s listing commissions and her buyers, who were like gold in this market, to be distributed.
    Kevin was withdrawn, poring over a stack of files. Harold was eating chocolate doughnuts from a bag, sitting with some overflow even in Theresa’s large chair. Rita, Stan and Marian were debating their credentials for picking up a share of Theresa’s business. Jean was playing with Rita’s chart in order to avoid participating. The thought of profiting from Theresa’s death was uncomfortable, although she couldn’t help but hope she might. Hua, across from her, was chattering indecipherably on the phone, free hand waving punctuation.
    Ed’s appearance silenced all voices.
    “I know what’s on your minds, so here’s how it goes down. Frankly, the office needs money and you know all listings belong to the broker. I’d like to distribute Theresa’s business among you, but we have the possibility of an arrangement that will be good for everybody. I have a friend, an agent, interested in developing a real estate investment trust, an REIT. A way to do better in this down market, he thinks. He’ll be in next week to explain it to you. Best to work as an agent. Gets the commissions that way. Currently with a national company who won’t let him do this. They have their own REIT division. A friend, a loan officer, will probably come with him. If they join us, we’ll be small, but we’ll have everything under one roof.”
    The serious expression that had begun Ed’s talk had lifted, a smile growing in its place.
    “Wayne will be interested in our listings because he’ll get more commission on those. Might convince some people this is the place to list. His clients are wealthy. We got to look good. So Vivian will be coming in to follow up with Theresa’s customers and clients, profits to go into redecorating. We’ll stop there for now. Police are here and want to talk to you. Things being otherwise, this would have been a happy meeting, what with Jean’s first listing sold.”
    A scattering of clapping. Jean felt the lack of a tribute to Theresa. No mention at all except the obscure “otherwise.” Ed looked as happy as she had ever seen him, no doubt because the office wasn’t going to die, a feeling she could scarcely begrudge him as she felt it herself.
    As the two detectives entered with appropriately stern expressions, Jean thought one of them, the one who looked a little like a short, young Sean Connery, looked familiar. These were probably the two who had interviewed her Sunday. Uncertainty was another confirmation that she must have been in shock. The handsome one took Ed’s place, the chunky, sandy-haired one stood off to the side, notepad and pen in hand.
    Marian didn’t give either of them a chance to start the conversation.
    “Speaking for all of us,” she began.
    “You don’t, Marian,” Ed interrupted. “Let the detectives do their work. These are Detectives Jack Turok and Cory Jablonski.”
    Jean would have been crushed by Ed’s put-down. She supposed Marian was used to it.
    “Hello, Miss Terrence. You’re looking much better.”
    She was right. The dark one was from Sunday. Probably the other one, too. Jean didn’t know what to say. She just nodded and