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collectibles, one item at a time. Though she’d denied it, he had fired her. “It appears she came back, killed him and then took a bunch of collectibles and some valuable decorative items. The problem was, the detectives couldn’t get enough evidence to make a case against her, and no matter how they tried, she wouldn’t confess. And none of the stolen items ever surfaced.”
    Barry seemed more animated than I’d seen him in a long time. “I’m going to have another go at the housekeeper. After all this time, she won’t be expecting it.” I nodded to show I was listening, though I wanted to make my getaway. I made a move to get up, but Barry continued talking. “I found out some things the earlier guys missed. It seems the liquor store guy delivered to the other victim’s house and there’s something similar about the items taken.”
    I heard the clank of the gate by the driveway and a moment later my son Samuel came through the yard. He was carrying a guitar case and looked happy. When he saw Barry and me sitting together with the binder open to a grisly picture, his smiled faded. To cover the awkward pause I asked him about his evening.
    “I had a gig up at the country club. All sixties music for a wedding anniversary,” he said taking off his sports jacket. Samuel’s move back home was only supposed to be temporary, too, but recently he’d gotten his hours cut on his barista job and his night gigs as a musician were undependable, so I didn’t think he was going to be moving out anytime soon. He tucked the jacket under his arm and focused in on me.
    “Tell me you didn’t tackle some TV actor with a fake gun,” Samuel said. When I looked embarrassed and made a little nod toward Barry, trying to tell my son that Barry didn’t know and I wanted to keep it that way, Samuel rolled his eyes and he shook his head with disbelief.

C HAPTER 5
    “Only you would have been enticed by an offer to see a murder book,” Dinah said with a laugh. We’d met for breakfast at the Le Grande Fromage, the French café down the street from the bookstore, and I’d told her, no strike that, more like confessed, about the cup of tea with Barry.
    “I just want him to go home so I can get my stuff back from the storage unit and have my crochet room again,” I said. “It’s too confusing with him there. I’m angry at him for being so stubborn. If I wouldn’t marry him, we couldn’t even be friends? What kind of logic is that? I should never have offered to let him stay at my house.”
    “It sounds like he wants to be friends now,” Dinah said.
    “No, I think he appreciates that I let them live at my place and I think he was bored last night and had no one to talk to. Remember, he’s used to keeping crazy hours. He told me he’s working nine to five now.”
    “Did you tell him about the incident on the
L.A. 911
shoot?” Dinah asked as one of the counter people brought over our food. I had a red eye and one of their freshly made cheese croissants. Dinah had ordered café au lait and a plain croissant. As usual, the airy place, with its round tables and black-and-white-checkered floor, was busy, and there was a line of people at the counter waiting to place their orders.
    “No. I just left a big silence after Samuel’s comment,” I said picking up the red eye and checking to see if it was too hot to drink. “Then I rushed inside and left Barry sitting under the stars.” The coffee drink needed a few minutes to cool, so I broke off a piece of the cheese croissant. “I suppose having the tea was okay. We just talked about the cases he’s working on. It wasn’t like it was anything personal. I’m just as ready to shut the door on our relationship as he is. Once he moves home, that’s it, we’re done.”
    “You had a busy night. Dinner with Mason first. How’s that going?” Dinah simultaneously poured steamed milk and hot coffee into her mug. I told her about Mason’s problems with his daughter’s wedding.