Money To Burn by Katy Munger Read Free Book Online Page B

her.”
    “I assure you I only met your fiancée the day before the fire,” I told her. “And I can also tell you that he was more preoccupied with his work than any other man I’ve ever met. I’d be willing to bet my original Kid Creole and the Coconuts debut album that his preoccupation was not due to another woman. Is that why you’ve come to see me? To make sure we weren’t having an affair?”
    She shook her head. “No, it’s worse and even more ridiculous than that.”
    Worse than what? I wondered. What was so frigging ridiculous about the idea of me boffing Thomas Nash? Yeah, sure, I had less than a millionth of her bank account and I was a good ten years older and thirty pounds heavier, but there were plenty of men who found my, ahem, big bold beauty appealing.
    “Mr. Pope said it was arson,” she said. “And that it was probably set to harm Thomas or cover up the evidence of some other crime. But he said he couldn’t be more specific. He thought maybe you could help me and he gave me your card.”
    I wasn’t sure whether Maynard Pope was sloughing a hysterical female off on me or whether he was trying to do me a favor. I’d let her fee decide.
    “What exactly is it you want me to do?” I said slowly.
    “Could you find out who set the fire and whether or not they intended to murder him?” she asked.
    “That’s what the cops are for,” I told her. “What do you really want?”
    She blew her nose again, daintily this time, stalling for time.
    “I might be happy to help you,” I said, then thought of her bank account. “Hell, I might even be ecstatic. But you have to be straight with me so I know whaaceo I knot I’m getting into.”
    She paused, then blurted it all out before her nerve failed. “I thought maybe you could find out for sure if he was having an affair before he died and also tell me if my father had him killed.”
    “What?” I sat, stunned. “You think your father had him killed?”
    “I don’t know,” she said, and this time the tears hit like Niagara Falls. I didn’t even try to stop her. I heard a shuffling in the halls and knew that Bobby D. was eavesdropping outside. He doesn’t normally boost his big butt up unless he has to go to the bathroom, but the Ferrari had aroused his interest. He may even have recognized Lydia Talbot from her photographs in the newspapers.
    While she cried, I occupied myself calculating what I would charge her for taking on the case. Thomas Nash’s retainer had gone toward rent and food, but a new month was looming and neither Bobby nor I were into starvation. I didn’t want to gouge her, but I was having visions of working out of the bathroom at the Greyhound Bus station and, believe me, the scenario wasn’t pretty to contemplate. By the time she quieted down, I had decided on a generously fair fee and was busy thanking whatever gods hovered above for sending me an excuse to avenge Thomas Nash’s death while still fattening our bank account.
    “About your father,” I prompted, when her fresh tears had subsided to a ladylike trickle.
    “He was furious that Tom and I were engaged,” she explained in a tiny voice. “Especially since Thomas had quit T&T and gone out on his own. I first met Tom when he worked at T&T, but we didn’t go out until after he founded his own company. We met again at a benefit for Duke Hospital. He was very attractive in a different sort of way, if you know what I mean.”
    I nodded. I knew.
    “Anyway, we had dinner the next night and one thing led to another. I had to do a lot of the leading, if you want to know the truth. Sometimes I wondered if he’d ever even had a girlfriend before. I didn’t tell Daddy about him, but somehow he found out. He always does. And he was furious. He said Tom was just using me to get information on T&T. That was silly. I don’t have anything to do with the company, so what could I tell him? Then Daddy said he only wanted my money, but Tom was earning plenty with King