I muttered. “Have you met Peter Tyler? He works at Centurion with my mother." Tom shook Peter's hand then turned to me. “Peter, would you excuse us? I need to discuss something with Laurel." "Certainly,” Peter said. “I'll see you next week, Laurel." "Can't wait." Tom grabbed my elbow and I relinquished my plate of goodies as he led me into the living room, which appeared even more crowded than before. I scowled at him, not sure if I was more annoyed that he had removed me from Peter's company, or that I'd had to leave my plate of appetizers behind. He glowered at me as a few people walked past giving us curious looks. "Now what? Can't I have a conversation with a handsome cultured man without you dragging me away?” I said. "Why won't you let me do my job without interfering? Don't you realize any one of these people could be the killer?” Frustration lined his face as he worried about dead bodies, dangerous murderers, and one stubborn female.
