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beer, then said, “Helen, we’ve had this conversation before and you’ve always refused to listen to me. But there’s been a murder at your store. The wife of an important developer was killed. A county commissioner was present.”
    Helen knew where this conversation was heading.
    “I have no connection to Chrissy,” Helen said. “I didn’t know her. Today was the first time I ever saw her. I certainly didn’t fight with her.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” Phil said. “Law enforcement will be all over your store like a cheap suit. Sooner or later, McNally is going to find out you’re wanted in St. Louis. You defied the court and refused to pay half of your future income to your ex-husband, Rob.”
    “But Rob disappeared. Nobody’s seen him in months,” Helen said.
    “Which makes you look even more suspicious,” Phil said.
    “But he disappeared because his second wife—or whatever Marcella was—gave him a million dollars to go away. Everyone in law enforcement knows the Black Widow has had five or six husbands who conveniently died.”
    “They also know she’s never been arrested or convicted of murder,” Phil said. “Marcella can afford the best lawyers in the world. You can’t. You’ve made yourself an easy target.”
    “But the divorce judge made a stupid decision,” Helen said. “Rob wasn’t entitled to half my future income. He wasn’t entitled to anything of mine. He lived off me for years. He just had a better lawyer than I did and he won.”
    “And you ran away,” Phil said. “Come back with me to St. Louis and fight the decision.”
    His voice was soft. Helen wanted to say yes, but then she saw the pale guy eating the salad was eavesdropping. His mouth was open and his fork hovered in the air. Great. What if he reported their conversation to the police? Helen glared at him, and he went back to shoveling in salad.
    “Phil, I can’t leave Mom alone in Florida,” Helen said, lowering her voice. “She hasn’t regained consciousness in the three months since our wedding. What if she does come to? I can’t let her wake up alone in a nursing home. My sister, Kathy, and Tom can’t afford to travel here again after our June wedding didn’t come off. Mom’s so-called husband, Larry, is too cheap to fly down and see his sick wife. I haven’t been the best daughter, but I can’t abandon Dolores.”
    “When are you going to see your mother next?” Phil asked. “Maybe the doctor can give you some clue to her condition. You’re running out of time here, Helen, and if you wind up in jail, you can’t help your mother at all.”
    “The store will be closed tomorrow,” Helen said. “It’s still a crime scene. I can go to the nursing home and talk to the doctor when he makes his morning rounds. The home didn’t call you today, did it?”
    “Not a peep from Dr. Justin Lucre,” Phil said. “Is that really his name—Lucre, like money?”
    “Yep. The nurses call him Dr. Filthy, but not to his face. They like him even less than I do. You don’t find a lot of great healers working as nursing home doctors, but the nurses say he’ll take good care of Mom until her insurance money runs out. I’m glad she bought a long-term policy for catastrophic illness.”
    “So is Larry, I bet,” Phil said. “She won’t be dipping into her savings.”
    “I think Larry married Mom for her money,” Helen said. “She had worse luck with men than I did.”
    Phil raised an eyebrow, and Helen said, “Except you, of course.
    You’re my reward after Rob. I know you’re not interested in my money, because I don’t have any.”
    The waitress poured more decaf for Helen, then slapped down the check for the salad eater. His cell phone rang. He answered it, then went outside.
    “Looks like our table neighbor got a sudden attack of good manners,” Helen said. “Speaking of neighbors, was Jordan home when I called you?”
    “No,” Phil said. “Her boss at the restaurant called at four thirty