Hide nor Hair (A Jersey Girl Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Jo-Ann Lamon Reccoppa Read Free Book Online

house and believe me, he won’t be happy … and his lawyer won’t be too thrilled, either.”
    I pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Matthew joined me.
    “Maybe I can knock off some money. Let me see what I can do. Meanwhile, give me your husband’s number. I’ll talk to him.”
    “Ex,” I said automatically. “I’ll give you his number, but don’t expect anything like a rational conversation. As soon as he hears what it’s going to cost him, he’ll be screaming his head off.”
    I took a sip of the gin and tonic. The world began to come together again. I thought I could get used to this drinking-in-the-morning thing.
    “Mind if I have one of those?” Matthew asked.
    I couldn’t imagine why Matthew Oliver would want a drink. He wasn’t forking over megabucks for repairs. Then I remembered again that the poor guy had just buried his wife. Of course he would need a gin and tonic. Under the circumstances, he probably needed plenty of them. I made him a drink and sat back down.
    “Please excuse my bad manners. I should have offered you something the minute you walked through the door,” I told him. “Dizzie was so nice and such a talented beautician. It must be awful for you trying to get back into the swing of things after what you’ve been through. Are you holding up okay?”
    He took a big gulp before he answered. “I’m fine,” he said. “It’s a little on the quiet side at home, if you know what I mean. I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. It’s funny. We were only married for a few years, yet I can’t remember what I used to do at the house before she moved in.”
    Matthew finished the drink quickly and got up to make himself another. I didn’t object, but I was surprised. I wondered if he was an alcoholic or had recently turned to booze to ease his pain, though he didn’t seem particularly upset. Actually, he had been surprisingly pleasant the entire time he’d been in the house.
    “Did the police get in touch with you about what happened to poor Dizzie?” I asked.
    He shook his head no.
    I took a few more sips of my own gin and tonic before getting up the nerve to ask, “Do they have any idea who would have wanted to kill her?”
    “They’re not saying. They questioned me, of course, on the day you found the body. I understand they always question the spouse when things like this happen.” He said it like people were found floating in sinks filled with water every day of the week.
    “If there’s anything I can do to help …” I said, even though I had a sneaking suspicion Matthew Oliver didn’t really care for anyone’s help.
    He finished his second drink and stood to leave. “I’ll be fine, Mrs. Caruso. If you give me your husband’s number, I’ll give him a call later and explain why you need the new units.”
    I went into the den and grabbed a Post-it note from my desk. “This is his cell phone number. Just leave a message, and he’ll get back to you.”
    “Will do,” he said, taking the paper. “And don’t worry. Your husband—I mean ex-husband—will come through. When he sees how bad these units are and how downright dangerous that old furnace might be, he’ll spring for it. Plan on getting it all installed early next week.”
    It wasn’t until after the Hot Air King left my house that I realized he never even thanked me for trying to save Dizzie’s life. Of course, he could have been preoccupied, especially with all he had been through, but I would have been very interested in the person who tried to save my spouse and wrote about in the newspaper.
    I admonished myself again, this time for my own self-centeredness. His wife had most likely been robbed and then murdered, which was about as traumatizing as it got. What did I expect—a medal? Still, his lack of gratitude bothered me.
    It bothered me a lot.
    * * *
    I took pains to dress decently later that morning, forgoing my normal, everyday mommy-wear in favor of tailored pants and a violet