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total opposites. Sometimes Jo would bring the workers a box of
pastries left over from one of her parties, and Marisol's attitude would be we're not paying them to sit around and eat fucking donuts. Jo was a people person. Marisol
is a Marisol person. She's not there to make the workers happy. She's there to
make them work. That's why she's so effective as a project manager.' Nora
glanced over at her daughter, the failed project manager. Julia pursed her lips
but said nothing.
    'So
Marisol is in charge of the crew,' I said. 'What about the rest of the
partners?'
    'Well,
I write the books, so I have the biggest stake,'
    Nora
said, picking up her fresh cup of coffee. 'I used to own sixty percent. Julia
and Marisol are twenty-percent investors, and Marisol gets a salary for
overseeing all the subcontractors. On this latest house, I dropped back to
fifty percent, so we could make room for Jo and Marilyn. They each have five
percent. I didn't need their money as investors. It was more because it's a
successful business, and I wanted to bring in a few friends, who have the
talent and the karma that I thought could make it even more successful. Marilyn
has an innate sense of feng shui, and she's a water sign, so she's perfect in
the garden, and Jo was the quintessential Virgo, so of course I put her in
charge of publicity and coming up with creative ways to showcase the house.'
    'The
book launch was scheduled for tonight,' Martin said. 'Jo planned a brilliant
party. We used to have the predictable champagne open house. This year, Jo has
transformed it into a veritable movie set. She totally brought the murder to
life.'
    Nora
slammed her open palm down on the table. Silver, china, and Julia all jumped. 'Martin,
did you hear what you just said?' She turned to us. 'Jo planned a stellar
event. We've postponed it till after her funeral.'
    'Who
would benefit financially with Jo gone?' I said.
    'Nobody,'
Nora said. 'She's done so much of the work already. When we sell the house, her
share will go to her estate. I guess that means Reggie.'
    We
fished for ten more minutes, but the more questions we asked, the more clear it
became that no one in the group benefited from Jo Drabyak's death.
    Finally,
we wrapped it up. 'One last question,' I said. 'Where were you all on Sunday
night at about eleven?'
    'I
was in bed with a cop,' Julia said. 'Charlie got home from the poker game just
around eleven.'
    'I
was blogging,' Nora said. 'In fact, I bet you can track the fact that I posted
a blog on my site around eleven thirty. It's not much of an alibi, but quite
frankly, I can't imagine I actually need one.'
    'And
I was home,' Martin said.
    'Alone?'
I asked.
    'Absolutely,'
he said, looking directly at Nora.
    He
didn't seem to care if Terry and I believed him. He was more worried about the
cougar.

Chapter
Twelve
     
     
    Martin
and Julia waited on the patio, while Nora walked us to the front door. 'I
realise you didn't want to say anything in front of the others, but if you've
got anything, feel free to share it with me. I can help.'
    'Nora,
you've been a big help already,' I said. 'Thanks.'
    'No,
Mike. I mean help. In case you forgot, I solve homicides for a living.'
    I
had been in a pissy mood before I got to Nora's. I only had five hours sleep, I
was tired of living out of a suitcase, and the prospect of my contractor ever
calling to say my house is ready looked dim. And now this woman who invented
every homicide she ever solved was telling me she could do my job. My patience
was worn thin, and I tore into her. 'Nora, you make this shit up,' I said. 'You
come up with ways to kill imaginary people, and then three hundred pages later
you have some other imaginary person figure out who the killer was. In case you forgot, this is what Terry and I do for a living. Jo Drabyak is not one of your
characters. This is the real deal.'
    'For
God's sake, Lomax, I know the difference between reality and fiction. You know
what Tom Clancy said?'
    'No,
and quite