Fool's Puzzle by Earlene Fowler (reading eggs books .TXT) 📕

“I happen to be very good at poker,” I said stiffly. No need to mention Dove always swore I could have been a pro if I could play with a paper bag over my head. “Do you have any new leads on Marla’s murder?”

“Nothing I’m going to tell you,” he said, still smiling.

“Well, I guess that pretty much wraps up our cocktail chatter. Hope you brought your checkbook. Have a nice evening.” I started to move away, when he grabbed my elbow.

“Who was the lady you were talking to?”

“I’ve talked to lots of ladies tonight.”

“You know who I mean. The lady who was so upset. The lady who gave you that napkin you were studying with such interest.”

“She was my sister-in-law, and what we were talking about was personal so therefore none of your business.” I pulled my elbow out of his grasp.

“Anything I suspect has to do with this murder is my business.” It took two seconds for his smile to turn into a frown. He reached for the napkin; I twisted around and held it behind me.

“Believe me, this had nothing to do with Marla’s murder.”

“I’m a cop. I don’t believe anybody.”

“What television show did you steal that line from?”

He tried for the napkin again, and without thinking, I stuck it in a place I didn’t think even he’d attempt to follow.

He glanced quickly at my chest; a dull red flush turned his dark skin a cinnamon color.

“That wouldn’t stop me if we were alone,” he snapped.

“How fortunate for me we aren’t,” I said coolly and folded my arms across my chest. His scowl deepened.

“You’re being childish,” he said.

“I know.” I also knew making him angry was not in my long-term interest, but until I confronted Wade, I wasn’t about to show that napkin to Ortiz. “Look, this honestly doesn’t have anything to do with Marla’s murder but I do have something to show you.”

“What?” He narrowed his eyes skeptically.

“It’s probably nothing, but I’ll let you decide. I’ll show it to you after the auction.”

“Now.”

“No. This time you’re just going to have to do things on my time schedule.”

I held up my hand when he started to speak. “Save your breath. I’m not saying one more thing until after the auction.”

He whipped around and walked away, his lips so narrowed in anger they almost disappeared behind his mustache.

“Relax,” I called after him, glad he’d have a few hours to cool off before I showed him the bag of money. “Have some champagne.”

“What’s his problem?” Elvia walked up, looking like a Vogue cover in a black and white linen dress that somehow didn’t have a wrinkle on it. She scanned me critically, then gave a satisfied smile. “I knew that dress would be perfect on you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll give you the name of my personal shopper. Her specialty is impossible missions.”

She laughed and fingered a strand of smooth black hair, pulled to one side with a mother-of-pearl hairclip in the shape of a sea horse. “What did you do to make our new police chief angry this time? You really must quit provoking the public servants. Especially the ones that can make life miserable for one of my brothers.”

“It’s not me. He gets some perverse pleasure out of baiting me.”

“Hmm,” she said and took a sip of champagne. “So, what gives?”

Glancing down at the small beaded purse hung over her shoulder, I reached down the front of my dress and pulled out the napkin. “Could you keep this for me until tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She took the napkin and slipped it into her purse. “May I inquire as to why you have a cocktail napkin stuffed in your bra? You haven’t needed help in that area since you were fourteen.”

“Very funny. Can I fill you in tomorrow? I don’t even know the whole story yet.”

“What have you got yourself into this time, mi amiga?” She tapped long, icy nails on her plastic champagne glass. “And the real question is, will it earn you another private tour of our city’s penal accommodations?”

I gave her a rueful look. “You heard about that.”

“It was quite the talk of the station, according to Miguel.”

“That’s so embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing to actually have to stay there.”

“True, but that’s not going to happen. I hope.”

“Those last two words worry me.”

“They worry me more. Just keep your checkbook handy, okay?”

She shook her head slowly and gave a low chuckle. “You’ve had more excitement in the last four days than you’ve had in fifteen years.”

“This kind of excitement I can do without. Now, help me start herding these people toward the studios so we can commence with the real purpose of this party.”

The bidding at the auction was vigorous and competitive, spurred by a generous holiday spirit or perhaps spirits of the liquid persuasion. One especially keen bidding war was waged by Carl and his father for a Texas Star quilt. At four hundred dollars, a good-natured J.D. gave in to his younger son, and Carl carried it triumphantly away.

“Thanks for the show,” I teased Carl as people made their way out to their cars. “You and J.D. bid like it was a prize bull on the block.”

He smiled and patted the quilt he had slung over his shoulder like a serape. “I love beating out the old man. Even for a blanket. Of course, I’m going to have to borrow the money from him to pay for it.”

“Why does he put up with you? And, if you realized how much work went into it, you wouldn’t be so blase. That’s probably the most expensive blanket you’ll ever sleep under.” I poked him on his free shoulder. “Or is it a present for some special lady?”

“Sure is.” He pulled it off his shoulder. “Here.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m not wrapping it for you. I haven’t even finished my own wrapping yet.”

“I don’t want you to wrap it, Benni,” he said, his face serious. “I want you to have it.”

“Me?”

“Just take it.” He turned a soft