Free Unleashed (A Sydney Rye Novel, # 1) by Emily Kimelman

comforted me. I looked past the dogs wrestling in the pen to the river.
    “Who do you think killed him?” I asked. A silence fell over the group.
    “I wouldn’t know about that,” Elaine finally said and then made a show of looking at her watch. “I have to go.” She hurried over to pick up a dachshund, a miniature pinscher, and a small mutt. Their leashes became tangled as she moved toward the exit.
    “I think it must have been his lover,” Fiona stated boldly.
    “Men can make you crazy,” Marcia said with a smile. Fiona blushed.
    “Do you guys know if anyone saw anything? Like one of the doormen on the block or something?” The two women shook their heads. Elaine hurried down the esplanade away from us.
    “Someone must have seen something,” I practically whined.
    “Oh, I’m sure someone did, but no one has said anything to us,” Marcia told me. “You should talk to Michael. He was the last person to see Mr. Saperstein alive.”
    “Who’s Michael?”
    “You don’t know him? He’s one of the doormen at the Sapersteins’ building,” Fiona said.
    “Why would I know who Michael is?” I asked
    They smiled at me.
    “You’ll know why when you meet him,” Fiona said.

 
     
    I Become a Sneak
     
    Julen opened the door at the Sapersteins’ building and pretended I was a complete stranger. “Hi, Julen,” I said. He coughed and nodded. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?” He scanned the lobby.
    “I don’t think so,” he said, trying to get rid of me.
    “I need to speak to Michael.”
    Julen smiled with relief. “Of course. He comes on at midnight and gets off at eight in the morning.”
    “Do you have his number? I don’t exactly work those hours.”
    Julen shook his head. “Michael does not have a phone. You will have to see him at work.”
    “He doesn’t have a phone?”
    “No. He does not believe in them.” Julen, looking amused, smiled widely, showing off clean, charmingly crooked teeth.
    “Doesn’t believe in them?”
    “Michael is an artist,” Julen said in explanation.
    “OK? Thanks.”
    “You are welcome.”
    I knocked on Mrs. Saperstein’s door. There was no response, so I let myself in. The house was empty. No Mrs. Saperstein and no Snaffles. The living room was neatly put together, the cushions on the couches puffed, the lamps dusted, and the floor vacuumed. In the kitchen, the dishes were washed, the sink spotless and the counters uncluttered. It did not look like the house of someone who had been brutally murdered.
    The photographs in an album I found on their bookshelf showed the Sapersteins as a happy family. Joseph and Jackie at their wedding. She had long dark hair then. He had a bushy mustache. They had gone on vacation to somewhere tropical, when her hair was cut short and dyed blond. He had worn a Speedo. In the autumn of another year, they had gone to a bed-and-breakfast. Joseph had his arm wrapped tight around Jackie and she smiled with her whole body. Nothing foreshadowed that he would have his face blown away and she would be the prime suspect.
    In the kitchen, there was leftover Chinese food in the fridge and three apples. In the closet, Joseph’s coat hung above his briefcase. I pulled out the obviously expensive brown leather case and opened it. A gold wedding band and a silver Rolex sat on top of a stack of papers with the letterhead Pilfner and Brown.
    Someone was putting a key in the door. I snapped the briefcase shut and shoved it back into the closet. Mrs. Saperstein, wearing loose jeans and a pink T-shirt, walked through the door holding Snaffles on a leash. She jumped and screamed when she saw me. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” She held her hand over her heart. “What are you doing here?”
    “I came to walk the dog, but he wasn’t here, so I figured I would wait a while to see if you came back so I could walk him,” I sort of lied.
    “Oh. OK.” She took a breath. “I just gave him a walk, so I guess you