he said as he turned and looked at us. “Patrice asked me to collect her husband’s things for her. She couldn’t face coming back here.” That might have been true, but then why did he look so guilty as he explained it to us? “Is that his briefcase?” I asked as I pointed to the leather satchel. “Yes, of course it is,” he said, and then tried to hide it from me. I looked down at the embossed OW on the side. “Funny, I was under the impression that his initials were AB. Oliver, are you taking those papers for yourself, or are you going to give them to the widow?” He looked at me as though I were a pesky gnat that was in serious need of swatting. “Okay, you caught me. Sure it’s my briefcase, but why shouldn’t I take them? They’re the latest recipes I just finished creating for him, and they’re not going to do him any good now, are they?” “So, then, you’re stealing from a dead man?” Maddy asked from across the room. I saw that she’d separated from us and was doing a little snooping of her own.
