The next day I was cooling my heels in my office while Detective Juarez and his crime lab were combing over every square inch of Taste Teas looking for evidence. Speaking of the detective, he was looking mucho sexy today. So much so that while I was pouring over the budget my mind began to wonder toward our inevitable future together.

Mrs. Manuel Juarez

Mrs. Evelyn Harper-Juarez

Mrs. Manny Juarez

Manny, I like it. One thing I didn't like though was this budget. It was costing me money to keep the shop closed. I only hoped it wouldn't be too much longer. The deposit from Bo would keep us open a few days but it wasn't enough to make back the revenue I would lose if we stayed closed a whole week.

I scoffed and slammed the notebook shut. There are three things you don't mess with: my family (friends are included under the umbrella of protection), my man (if I wasn't a pathetic spinster), and my goddamn money. So far Manny the straitlaced detective had upset two of those things. Like hell I was going to sit around and let him continue his prosecution of Jackson when the real killer was out there. Not without a fight.

I grabbed my keys and headed to the front door. The CSI squad had about four guys spread out checking for clues. For the most part of the day they'd come up empty. Only finding the remainder of the cake still sitting on the shelf in the fridge, but they were persistent. I had one foot out the door when I heard:

"Where you off too?" It was Detective Hotty Pants.

"Out." I said defiantly. He was already nose deep in most of my business, he'd didn't need to know everything about me.

"I assume you aren't leaving town?"

"And I assume I can trust your guys not to steal anything while I'm gone." I gestured around. Just because they're cops doesn't mean they're trustworthy.

He was not amused. "Just don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong okay."

"I wouldn't dream." I turned on my heel. "Later, Manny."

"Detective Juarez." I guess it's too soon in the relationship for pet names.

"Right, Detective."

On the upper west side, in the part of town known as Queens Dock, I slowly pulled my car up to an intercom that was connected to a large brick fence in front of the address I'd gotten. The cast iron gate was awe inspiring. The house was an old Georgian Colonial covered with old brick and white painted wood columns. The place must have had at least twenty bedrooms in it, if I'm giving a rough estimate. News anchors make a lot more than I thought.

Since Detective Juarez was busy trying to frame my cousin for murder, I figured I'd just catch the murderer myself. It wasn't going to be easy though since only about one out of every three people on the planet Earth wanted Bo dead. My grandma Sophie always says 'the best place to start is in your own backyard', so I'd driven the hour long drive to get to the Conway's to see what I could pull out of his wife.

I rolled the window down and stretched my arm to reach the silver call button on the intercom. After a while a woman's voice came on the line.

"Yes?"

"Evelyn Harper, I'm a friend of Mrs. Conway's."

"She no want visitors."

"Tell her it's her sister." That was a huge lie and frankly I don't even know if she has a sister, but I didn't think she'd let me in if she knew it was me.

I thought I would get caught for sure but after another minute or two the gate cranked to life, and I pulled Douglas up the circle driveway so I could have a heart to heart with Karalyn Conway.

Standing on the porch I got a good look at the place Bo called home. The yard had been manicured to perfection, not a blade of grass dared to be out of place. The garden in front of the house was alive with pansies and roses and flowers that shouldn't naturally be in bloom in the middle of summer. The whole place looked like it should be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardening. It was all very step-ford.

The door opened and I was greeted by a short Latina woman wearing an apron.

"Follow me." She said without interest.

She led me through the marble tiled foyer and into a totally over the top sitting room. Seriously, this placed looked like I'd stepped right into the fantasy of a teen aged girl who'd been watching way to many period pieces. It was like someone took Marie Antoinette's already outrageous style then barfed pink frillys all over it.

I was contemplating the possible mental effects of being exposed to this much pink over a long period of time (a pink-induced coma?), when Karalyn walked into the room. She was dressed in a bright red muumuu with matching slippers and a green shower cap on her head. Woman looked like a damn giant strawberry.

"Oh, you're the lady from Taste Tea's." She waddled over and took a seat next to me on the

godawful floral settee. "Eloisa said my sister was here to see me."

"She must have misheard me." Just call me Captain Troublemaker, able to endanger the jobs of innocent maids with the use of a single lie.

"Oh. I wouldn't have seen anyone else. Why did you stop by?" She looked awful.

"I came to extend my condolences." I took her hand. "How are you doing?" To my horror she burst into tears. Oh geez, the crying again. I guess I can't blame her, the poor woman's husband did die after all. I just wish she'd save the tears for someone who knew how to comfort properly.

"I'm sorry-what was your name again?"

"Evelyn."

"I'm sorry Evelyn, I'm just so heartbroken." She grabbed tissue from off the coffee table and blew her nose. "He was my whole world."

She stood up abruptly and headed out of the room. Confused I followed her into a kitchen that was bigger than my apartment and watched her reach into the fridge and pull out a fresh pecan pie.

"Would you like some?" She asked me.

"No thanks." She shrugged and sat down with the pie and a fork, not bothering with a plate.

"When I get upset I eat." She said in between mouthfuls. "I've been known to eat a whole cake by myself when depressed."

"So," I was trying to gently steer the conversation from bizarre eating habits to murder. "I can't believe someone would poison Bo."

"I know it's awful. He was such a sweet man." Whatever helps you sleep at night, hon.

"Yeah, sure. You have to wonder though who might have done it."

"You won't believe this, but not everyone was a fan of Bo."

"You don't say?"

"If anybody wanted to hurt my Bo it was probably that whore, Allison Fleming." She stopped eating, her eyes burning with anger.

"The assistant?"

"Yeah. Bo told me that she'd begged to sleep with him multiple times and after he'd told her no she'd threatened to claim sexual harassment." Bullshit. I'd seen the way Bo was ogling Allison. There was nothing unwanted on his part. Her part was another story.

"Why did Bo keep her around?"

"He was trying to give her a break. The little trollop came from a terrible background. Bo just wanted to help a poor underprivileged girl out of a bad situation. She's the one that took his kindness for granted. I guess she thought she could sleep her way to the top."

"And you really think she'd be mad enough to actually kill him for it?"

"You know what they say about a woman scorned. Besides, he told me he was going to fire her anyway." Interesting, I'd have to pay a visit to Allison Fleming.

I stayed with Karalyn for a little while longer before making up some excuse to make myself scarce.

"When's the funeral?" I asked her as I was heading toward the door.

"This Saturday. Are you coming?" She looked at me with such hopeful eyes. The woman was in serious denial about what kind of person Bo was.

"Of coarse. Have to pay my respects." She smiled at me. What a sad, sad woman.

I made my way to the front door alone, thinking on the developments I'd just learned. So, Allison threatened to sue Bo for sexual harassment? That could be a possible motive. And what about Karalyn? I'm not sure if I completely buy the grieving wife act. Nobody could be that oblivious to a person's faults. Maybe she was just putting on a front to hide her guilt. Though her heartache had seemed genuine.

In the car driving to back to Taste Teas I called Henry.

"Hey, how many times have I told you, when you leave in the morning put the money on the dresser?"

"Can you look something up for me?" Along with being an excellent author, Henry had a black belt in google-fu.

"What's up?"

"I need you to find the address for Allison Fleming."

"Why?"

"I'm investigating the murder of Bo Conway." I tried my best to sound super official.

"Are you still drunk?" He asked me incredulously.

"No, the detective over the investigation, who by the way is a super hottie-"

"Don't need to know that."

"-Is hell bent on pinning this murder on Jackson. Henry, I can't let him go back to jail. He won't last

another year, let alone the rest of his life." He thought this over.

"And you think this Fleming chick is the murderer?" I heard him sigh. "Evie have you considered that this could be dangerous? One person's already dead."

"I can't worry about that now. Besides I'll be careful. You gonna be my Watson or not?" I teased.

"I'm hanging up now."

"I assume you'll call me back with the directions to Allison's place?"

"Okay Sherlock, just don't say I didn't warn you."

Back at Taste Teas my future husband was wrapping up his search party and chatting up a lady cop who looked like she could bench press an elephant. If I wasn't secure in our stable and totally not one-sided love for each other, I'd have been super jealous.

"Detective!" He turned and held up a finger to me, then finished talking with my nemesis the lady cop. When he was done he strolled oh-so-sexy like over to me.

"Yes?"

"I'll have you know that I have my first suspect." I said smartly.

"Oh, really." He looked amused and crossed his arms across his chest, raising a curious eyebrow. "Go on."

"Did you know Allison Fleming was threatening Bo with a sexual harassment claim?"

"And how do you know that?"

"I talked to Karalyn Conway, she said-"

"After I asked you not to get involved?" He was talking to me like I was a naughty child again.

"I was just visiting a friend. I can't help that she shared valuable information with me." I lied. "Anyway, Karalyn thinks Allison might be the one who poisoned Bo. She said Bo told her Allison was going to sue him."

"Hold up, Scooby. That's called hearsay. Just because his wife said he said another woman said she would do something is not proof that she did." He had a point.

"And just because a guy has a shady past does not mean he's capable of murder." I used his own logic against him.

"Miss Harper-"

"Evelyn."

"Miss Harper, I'm going to ask you one more time to stay out of the investigation. You don't know what you're going up against. This is police business, we'll handle it."

"It doesn't look like you're handling it."

"Have you thought about what you'll do once you finish gathering all these interesting clues? You can learn as much as you'd like but without the proper knowledge of what to do with the information, you got nothing." With a turn he rudely dismissed me and walked back over to the lady cop.

"Yeah well...whatever!" I yelled back at him and marched into Taste Tea's. I swear I saw him smile.

As I was heading into my office I heard two of the CSI guys talking unreasonably loud about the case.

"Yeah, he did it alright. Witness saw him threaten the guy right before he dropped. Open and shut case." Stop spreading your heinous lies!

"But how reliable can this guy be. Did you see how he was dressed? Looks like he pulled those clothes out of a dumpster. He looked kind of dirty too." They had packed up some fancy clue finding gear and were heading out the door.

"Yeah when I first saw him I thought he was some bum. Turns out he lives in old Gregson's boarding house."

"So? Still a bum."

Hmm. Dirty guy who dresses hobo chic, minus the chic? Living in the Gregson's boarding house? Looks like I was gonna get to interrogate my first witness. As soon as I finished with my business here, I was going to have to pay a visit to my good friend The Raggedy Man.