Not over Dean, of course. I barely knew the guy. And what little I knew, I sort of hated. No, I was mourning the loss of my five grand and all the goodies it would have bought. There’d be no new TV in my future. No new used car. No Platinum Level Fudge-of-the-Month Club. I returned to my old life with its anemic checking account, dreaming of things that might have been and wondering, not incidentally, why the heck I’d never heard from Phil Angelides’s cutie pie nephew, Jim. My life was in a sinkhole, all right. And I was not alone. I was certain Daddy would drive Mom crazy searching for his Lucky Thinking Cap. It was so typical of him to assume Lydia Pinkus had stolen it. Daddy has always had it in for Lydia, always ready to lay the blame for anything amiss in his life at Lydia’s size EEE feet. Something told me Mom was in for a whole lot more Oreo therapy in the days to come. Even worse was poor Prozac. Ever since the shoot she’d been moping around, in a deep funk over her aborted career as a TV commercial star.
What do You think about Murder Has Nine Lives (2016)?
