Murder Over Cocktails: The 2nd Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) by Nancy Skopin Read Free Book Online

office and dialed Jack’s pager. After entering my office phone number and hearing the requisite beeps, I hung up. Less than a minute later my phone rang.
    “Hunter Investigations.”
    “You rang?”
    “Hi, Jack. I’m meeting with Margaret today at four. She’s going to show me a house in Los Altos.”
    “Are you bringing anyone along?” he asked.
    “Are you volunteering?”
    “Not a chance. Please be careful, Nicoli.”
    “I will. But I don’t think there’s much likelihood she’ll want to bump off a potential client.”
    “You never know. Page me when you get back to the office?”
    “Sure.”
    It was nice to know he cared, but disquieting that he thought there was reason for concern.
    Next I called Bill and told him what I was doing. I didn’t really need the subsequent lecture. I just wanted him to know where I was, in case something went wrong. I told him I’d call him by 6:00, and gave him the address of the property in Los Altos.
    To pass the time until my meeting with Maggie, I looked over the bar and restaurant surveys on my schedule. I hoped I would be able to squeeze a few in tonight. Some of my regular clients expect weekly reports, and I hate to let them down.
    At 3:40 I drove back to Menlo Park. I left the 2002 on a side street and walked the rest of the way. When I entered the Millennium offices, Courtney remembered me, and Lily’s suit, instantly. She made a call on the intercom and then offered me coffee, tea, or spring water. I passed on all three.
    After a few minutes Margaret, aka Maggie, stepped into the lobby. I was immediately struck by her presence. There were noticeable undercurrents of strength and sexuality. Her dark hair fell a few inches below her shoulders, perfectly framing her oval face and delicate features. Her nose was aquiline, her mouth a little wide, and her gray eyes were framed by dark lashes but no visible make-up. She was a trim five-foot-six in low-heeled sandals, and her bust was generous. She wore a navy blue business suit with a cream-colored blouse, all very understated, with a single strand of pearls around her neck. She smiled at me without showing any teeth, and her eye contact was riveting. When she shook my hand her grip was forceful, warm, and dry.
    “I’m Maggie Sectio,” she purred. She turned to Courtney and passed her a folder. “This is the Parker file. Will you give it to Claude when he comes in?”
    “Of course,” said Courtney.
    Maggie turned back to me and I caught the fleeting look of adoration on Courtney’s face. She saw me watching and quickly returned her attention to the folder.
    “I’m parked right out front,” Maggie said to me. “Why don’t we take my car.” It was not a question.
    Maggie was driving a dark blue Lincoln Town Car. She opened the passenger door for me and the new car smell wafted out.
    “How long have you been house hunting?” she asked as she started the engine.
    “Just today,” I said. Since I’m a terrible liar, whenever possible I tell the truth.
    She pulled out of the parking lot onto the street.
    “You live alone?” she asked.
    “I do now,” I said. “I’m a widow.”
    “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
    “I’m not.”
    That got her attention. She glanced at me briefly and raised an eyebrow.
    “That was tactless, wasn’t it?” I said. “But I married Bernie for his money. He knew that, and it was fine with him. Besides, it was an even trade. He was a son of a bitch and I had to put up with his libido for four years before he finally kicked off.” I had rehearsed this little speech in my head so many times it actually came out sounding natural.
    Maggie’s lips curled into a half smile. “So you’ve decided to move.”
    “Yes. I’m selling the condo. I hate condos. I’m looking for something secluded, where the neighbors are far enough away not to bother me or care what I’m up to.”
    “I think you’ll like the Los Altos property,” Maggie said. “The house is a hundred