Free Flossed (Alex Harris Mystery Series) by Elaine Macko Page A

Bill’s this afternoon after he got the report and sure enough, in the medicine cabinet above the sink was a box of mint dental floss.”
    “I can’t believe someone would use floss,” I said. “I mean, who would think except maybe a denti...” My words trailed off and all eyes turned toward Michael.
    “Hey! Wait a damned minute. I didn’t know the woman and I’ve never considered dental floss to be anything other than what it is meant to be.”
    “Calm down, honey.” Sam patted her husband’s hand. “No one suspects you of anything.”
    “Maybe the killer was trying to make it look like Michael was the murderer,” I suggested.
    “Why?” John asked. “Everyone at the party knew we had just arrived. There was no way Michael could have known Martine before, so why would he kill her?”
    “Thanks for your support, John,” Michael smiled.
    “You know Inspector Willix. Before he showed up, no one would have thought you knew anyone in Belgium but Bill,” I said.
    “I didn’t know him. I knew of him,” John corrected.
    “I’m just saying it’s a small world and, yes, we know Michael couldn’t possibly know Martine, but someone at the party might not have known that.”
    “Okay. I can see your point.” John took a sip of beer before continuing. “It’s a possibility the murderer could have picked the floss with the hopes of throwing suspicion elsewhere. A very small possibility, I would imagine. More than likely it was just the first thing the killer found.”
    I fiddled with the edge of my coaster and then set down my cup of tea. “How about fingerprints?”
    “Wanda cleaned the bathroom before everyone came on Saturday but there were still fingerprints all over. I’m sure everyone there must have used the room at one time or another during the day,” John told us. I had used the bathroom at least three times, so I could understand the police probably wouldn’t have much luck there. “They also took fingerprints from inside the cabinet. That shouldn’t have been touched. Maybe the police can get…what are those faces for?” John asked looking first at me and then at Sam.
    “I may have looked inside the medicine cabinet,” I said sheepishly.
    “Me, too,” Sam said.
    My husband hung his head and groaned. He looked up and said, “Why on earth were you two poking around in someone else’s medicine cabinet?”
    “We’re in Belgium, for God sake.”
    “And?”
    “And nothing, John. I don’t know what Sam was looking for,” I gave my sister the evil eye, “but I was curious how foreigners live.”
    “Bill and Wanda are not foreigners. They’re Americans, just like you.”
    “But they live in a foreign country. I was curious. Like what does their toothpaste look like? If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t touch a thing in the cabinet, I just opened it and looked.”
    John now turned to Sam with a questioning look.
    “I may have touched something.”
    Now it was my turn to hang my head and moan.
    “Hey. There was a box and I wanted to know what it was. That’s all I touched. I swear.”
    “What was it?” I asked.
    “Band-Aids. But I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t checked,” Sam said, using her goofy logic.
    Our orders arrived and the waitress told us something in French we assumed to be that the plates were hot. I glanced at John and saw he had a small smile on his face.
    “I’m going to have to tell Inspector Willix you touched the cabinet and you’ll probably have to come down to the station and be printed.”
    “Oh, fun!” Sam said.
    We turned out attention to our meals. Everything looked and smelled divine. John took another sip of his beer and then continued telling us what he had learned. “Martine had a welt on her face. We’re assuming someone hit her first, maybe in an attempt to quiet her or knock her out. There were a few more bruises on her body, but they were old and their origin is unknown.”
    “That poor woman,” Sam said. “What kind of an