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boy.”
    “Was he ever small?” Charles joked, then corrected himself. “Sorry—we both need to be serious.”
    “Todd has two brothers, Brad and Kent. Brad works here in the family business, and Kent is learning the trade at a friend’s brokerage on the West Coast. His family is one of the oldest financial families in the state, probably the country. He attended one of the country’s best schools and finally graduated with a degree in business.”
    “As I recall, he actually attended several of the best schools before graduating,” Charles added.
    “You’re correct, and he was working as a junior something or other at the family firm. I remember reading most of this in the paper when he joined the firm.”
    “And he’s a fair golfer when sober.”
    “That adds a lot. Maybe it was an outraged golfer who shot him.”
    “Actually, that’s the best lead we have, but you see what I’m saying? We know very little about Todd. Who are his friends? What does he do at his daddy’s firm? What does he do when not working? That, my dear Carrie, is where we need to concentrate.”
    “We don’t even know where he lives. I heard he moved out of his family’s house several months ago and has an apartment somewhere in downtown Tri-City.”
    “OK, that’s it. That’s where we start.” Charles walked over to the phone and dialed a number he knew from memory.
    “Who are you calling?”
    “Sandy Waxtrum.”
    “Why would you call your executive assistant at this moment?”
    “I want to…” Before he finished, the phone was answered. “Sandy, sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I need the answer to a quick question. Do you remember a few weeks ago? We prepared some ad proofs for Mr. Barrington. He asked us to deliver them to his son’s apartment so Todd could bring them home to him over the weekend. Yes, those are the ones. Do you remember the address of Todd’s apartment?”
    Charles took out a pen and wrote the address on a tablet. “Thanks, Sandy. I knew you would remember. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
    He tore off the top sheet of paper and handed it to Carrie. “Here you are—Todd’s address in the city. Now you know why Sandy is such a gem. She has a mind for details.”
    “What about our two detective friends? Won’t they have the address, too?”
    “They probably do have the address. I’m hoping because the address is in the city and out of their jurisdiction that they won’t get permission to search the apartment until Monday. So we have a small window of opportunity, but we need to move fast.”
    “Faster than a phone call.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “They could call one of their buddies on the city squad and have them go over and check the condo. Or at the very least, ask them to put up one of those crime scene tapes so no one else can go snooping.”
    “Hey, I thought you wanted to play detective with me.”
    “I do.”
    “Where have I heard those words before? Oh, yes, I remember—it was when I married you. That’s when the trouble began,” Charles said.
    “Oh, so marrying me was trouble, was it?”
    “Yes, darling, but I’ve loved every minute of the trouble we’ve been in together. Especially when we solve puzzles together.”
    The first puzzle they’d solved was when she’d returned to Tri-City three years ago to investigate the murder of Charles’s brother. She’d started working the case alone, until she eliminated Charles as a possible suspect. Then they’d joined forces to find the real killer and had been together ever since.
    “We better get going if we want to beat the police,” Carrie said.
    “OK, you get the car. I need to make a couple more phone calls. I’ll meet you outside.”
    Carrie loved this season of the year. There was still sunshine to warm the body, but there was a coolness that was slowly creeping into the air. She made sure the kitty was comfortable in the kitchen with water and an old cardboard carton, cut low with shredded newspaper, for a