Marco asked. He was reading a manual on crime scene investigations, leaning against pillows propped up on the wicker headboard. Seedy, curled in her bed in a corner of the room, lifted her head to greet me with a tail wag. “It was fascinating. A study in narcissism.” “The book?” “No, Mitzi Kole.” I walked over to scratch Seedy’s head. “I think she killed Dirk.” Marco put the book down. “Based on what?” “The way she and her friends joked about his death. The hints they tossed out about Mitzi and Dirk having an affair. Her anger at him stealing her jewelry. And my gut feeling that she did it.” “Not a lot of hard evidence there, Sunshine.” “Not yet.” I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it into the laundry basket in our closet. “I need to question her without the other women present. Or you.”
