Free Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) by Elaine Macko

a feeling his news had nothing to do with a surprise for Sam.
    “Susan is removing a patient’s wisdom teeth on Wednesday and she’s asked me to observe.”
    God love him. The man was euphoric over the prospect of watching someone have teeth yanked out of their head.
    “Susan?” Sam glared at Michael with her hands firmly on her hips.
    “Doctor Dilworth. From the party?” Michael didn’t have a clue.
    “Haven’t you pulled a few wisdom teeth yourself over the years?” Sam asked her husband.
    “Sure, but here the procedure is done in the hospital like any other operation. Should be fascinating.”
    Sam turned to me, hands still on her slim hips, and shook her head in resignation. “I give up.”
    A few minutes later John arrived, and concluding we were all famished, we decided to go down to an area we had seen on Sunday, to try one of the many restaurants.
    The city of Brussels had three train stations. The main one, the Midi train station, transformed itself into the most wonderful farmers market each Sunday.
    It was called the Arab Market. I found details about it in the literature the Smiths had left for us and it proved to be a wonderful experience. Belgium has a large immigrant population coming from the countries of North Africa—Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia—and each week they all come together selling everything imaginable from food to plants, to fresh meat and fish, fabric for curtains, rugs of every conceivable size, and pots and pans galore. There were fresh herbs and spices, and from the moment we arrived we were assaulted with the smell of fresh coriander, mint, fennel, and ginger.
    After the market we walked further along the main boulevard until we came to an antique market. Sam and I found several lace dollies for our mother, and four beautiful white linen and lace tablecloths—one for each of us, our mom, and Meme. We also found a couple of watercolors. The frames were old and cracking, but the small paintings were exquisite. I knew exactly where I was going to hang mine when we got home. With any luck, the weather would hold out. We vowed to come back next Sunday to both the Midi market and the antique market and hopefully John would be able to join us.
    We discovered on Sunday the area had some ethnic restaurants and it was to this area we headed tonight. After walking around for a while, peeking into several cafés, we settled for an Indian restaurant near where the antique market was held. Once the guys had picked out their beers, I told John what Sam and I had been up to, leaving out a few bits of information.
    “It seems even here in Belgium you insist on being Nancy Drew,” John said with a smile. He had his long legs stretched out under the table and rubbed my leg with his own.
    “Maigret,” Sam said.
    “Huh? Maigret? Is that some sort of local bird?” Michael asked.
    “No. It’s the name of a fictional Belgian detective created by some writer whose name begins with an S. Oh, I can’t remember, but anyway, that’s Alex’s new name, Madam Maigret.”
    “I see. Well, here are a few things we’ve learned today that you can add to your own investigation, Madam, but I’m warning you, all of you,” John looked around the table, “this info is to go no further than this table, understood?” All heads nodded though as soon as we returned to the apartment, I was going to pull out the laptop and send Meme another email. Even my eighty-year-old grandmother was fiber optically wired and had become quite proficient on the Internet.
    “From what the preliminary reports show,” John began, “Martine was strangled with a piece, well, several pieces, of dental floss. The green mint kind. Pieces of the green wax were found in her neck and under her fingernails. Actually, the floss pretty much slashed her throat.”
    I shuddered. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Dental floss. Who the hell would use dental floss to kill someone? How terrible.”
    “Inspector Willix went to Wanda and