Murder for the Bride
“I helped her move the table over to where we could look out on the little court as we ate. The deep shadows beyond the tarnished bronze of the cupid were blued and purpled by the approach of dusk. In the center of the table she put a slender white candle in a simple wrought-iron holder. The flame was motionless. She had changed to a simple white dress that left her shoulders bare. Her skin was like cream. I had to force myself to stop looking at her. This sort of thing wouldn’t do at all.
The meal was simple. Two small steaks, a green vegetable, a tossed salad. It was much too hot to eat more.
“Tell me more about Barney confiding in you, Jill.”
“Is it fair for you to pump me? And not tell me anything?”
“Now, listen. I want to be serious for a moment. You warned me that this was a big, rough situation, where I might get hurt. I don’t like your knowing that name Haussmann. I don’t like your digging around too much, Jill.”
“It’s my business. I make my living at it.”
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