Read Some Like It Lethal for Free Online Page B

of fish with my fork but didn't raise it to my mouth. In the center of our table, a soft candle flickered. A barely audible strain of Mozart wafted in the air. Around us, The Pink Windowbox oozed comfort and luxury. But I didn't feel remotely relaxed. My brain was humming.
    "What do you know about Rush Strawcutter?" I asked.
    "Only that he married Gussie, which was odd. Nobody ever thought Gussie could snare a man. Didn't they meet at a big dog show? I remember hearing something like that. She was there as a sponsor and he was ... I forget. They fell in love over basset hounds, didn't they?"
    "I don't think Gussie likes any kind of dog."
    "Oh, right, that was the joke. Their company makes dog food, but Strawcutters don't have pets."
    "Until Rush came long. He always has—had—a few pound puppies with him. They rode around in his station wagon."
    Libby drank more beer. "I bet Gussie dumps them at the humane society before nightfall. She always struck me as the heartless type."
    "That's a mean thing to say. Poor Gussie."
    "But what an odd couple. She's such a schlub, but I always thought Rush had a winning quality."
    "Oh, heavens, you didn't make a pass at him, did you?"
    "He wasn't my type. And he was married, after all." A crumb of quesadilla tumbled down the curve of her bosom and disappeared into the bottomless crevasse. Libby glanced down and wisely decided a rescue effort was hopeless.
    I tried to recall seeing Gussie and Rush together. Plenty of men had made a run at Gussie over the years, of course. With the Strawcutter fortune behind her, she was an obvious catch. Gussie rejected them all. But Rushton had gone more slowly than the others, I remembered, and somehow he'd won her over.
    "They had the longest engagement on record," Libby said. "Four years, maybe. It probably took that long to soften up Gussie. Remember?"
    "And at first he was reluctant to take a job with Strawcutter Industries, right?"
    "He probably didn't want to look like a gold digger. What's the male equivalent of a gold digger? Well, Rush took the job, after all, so what does it matter?" Libby chowed down on her lunch.
    I put my fork on my plate. No matter how he'd started at Strawcutter Industries, Rush had worked hard. He hadn't chafed under working for his wife, either, as Gussie's father gradually let go of the business.
    Libby noticed me mulling over what I knew and suddenly looked intrigued. "Is this how you detect a murder, Nora?"
    "I'm just thinking. I'm trying to imagine why Rush might have been killed. Somebody's usually upset over a family issue or money, according to Michael."
    "Well, he would know."
    I snapped my fingers. "Lately, Rush had started up his own company. Do you know anything about it?"
    "Yes, it's a chain of pet stores and shampoo parlors."
    "Laundro-Mutt," I said, remembering at last. "Has it been a success?"
    "I haven't the faintest idea. I wash my dog with a hose in the driveway."
    "Does Rushton have any partners? Anybody who might be involved in his business?"
    "Just Gussie, I suppose. That is, if she loosened the family purse strings enough to invest in Rush's idea. I hear she's a tightwad like her father."
    Family and money, I thought. Add passion, and I had a trifecta of murder motives.
    Our waitress appeared beside the table then. "Is everything all right, ladies?"
    "I'd like another beer," said Libby. "Do you have Guinness?"
    The waitress painstakingly wrote down Libby's request. "There's someone who'd like to speak with you. I told him it's against our policy. We try to keep a serene atmosphere in the dining room, but—"
    "Who is it?" I asked, but I had already guessed.
    A young man in a black trenchcoat approached our table.
    I cinched my pink robe tightly around my waist. Libby sat back in her chair, however, allowing her robe to fall gently open from her bosom. She put one hand to her throat in a classic Marilyn Monroe gesture. Even her hair was lasciviously mussed.
    "Detective Bloom," I said. "Somehow I knew