Free Pickled (An Alex Harris Mystery) by Elaine Macko Page B

chocolate from the pantry and put a small pan on the stove. I watched, fascinated, while she added the chocolate, a bit of sugar and a dash of salt. Then she stirred in some milk and lots of half & half, and deftly blended it all together. When it was done she poured it into two mugs, added some whipped cream and handed me a cup.
    “Gee, I was expecting you to tear open a couple of those instant packets and add some hot water. This looks, well, almost decadent.”
    She smiled and nodded at my mug. “Try it.”
    I took a sip and made a mental note to pick up some cream and a few pounds of rich chocolate on my way home. “Okay. I’m never having instant again.” I took another sip savoring the creamy chocolate taste.
    “Humphrey loved it this way. Very European. He told me his mother always made it from the best chocolate available. She was English. A cold woman, but she evidently made a great cup of cocoa.”
    The stuff was so good I felt guilty I was here to ask her why she lied to me, but she wanted my help finding Humphrey’s killer and I couldn’t let the woman sway me with a bar of chocolate, no matter how dark and rich.
    Sophie took a seat on the other bar stool next to me and opened up the conversation. “What have you found out so far?”
    “A few things. You were right. The list of suspects is growing.” I put my mug down. “Mrs. Bryson. Sophie. You told me you hired Terry Roder a month ago, but he said you hired him several months ago.”
    “Did I? I must have been confused. Yes, I believe I did hire him a while back. Is it important?”
    I watched the woman over the rim of my cup. I was so used to my grandmother and her friends who were all so much fun and at times amusingly scattered-brained. I guess I had a tendency to look at the elderly as being fun-loving and harmless. But Sophie Bryson was calculating and, despite living with a bully, I don’t think she put up with much.
    “I don’t know if it’s important or not at this point, but I was curious why you were having your husband followed long before he told you he wanted a divorce.”
    She reached across the counter to the stove and took the pan from the burner. “More?” I shook my head and she poured the rest into her cup. “Humphrey was always up to something. The truth is I planned on divorcing him before he presented the same decision to me. I wanted to have my ducks in a row.”
    “Terry Roder was two-timing you. Humphrey knew he was being followed and paid Mr. Roder to feed you a line of garbage.”
    Sophie gave me a knowing smile. “Of course Humphrey knew. That’s why I hired Terry in the first place. The man’s an idiot. I knew he would get caught and then I could send in a real private investigator.”
    “You mean you had someone else follow Humphrey?”
    “Alex, I lived with the man for most of my life. I knew all of his tricks. I just wanted them well documented so when the war began, I would have plenty of ammunition to get my fair share. I hired a woman. She’s about fifty-five, been doing this for a long time, and I figured Humph would never take a woman for a PI and I was right. He had no idea.”
    “What exactly did Mr. Bryson do all day? I mean, did he work?”
    Sophie shook her head, dislodging a bobby-pin. A piece of hair fell to her cheek and she pushed it over her ear. “We own a few gas stations with those quick marts, a printing shop, a small apartment complex along with some other property, and a newsstand in New Haven and one in Bridgeport. That’s the legitimate stuff. Humph always had a knack for investing and I know our money is well placed in stocks, etc. But he was good at keeping secrets as well. The truth is, he probably has tons of money hidden and I may never know our true worth, but my half of the stuff I do know about will do me very well. Very well indeed. That’s all I wanted, my fair share. But of course if I found he had other business ventures I knew nothing about, all the better. Knowing