Murder for Bid Read Online Free PDF Page A

tightly.
    “Please, Sheila. This is important. My reputation is at stake.”
    “ You have a reputation?” she snorted.
    “Listen, Sheila. I have a serious problem. Schmidt saw me outside his house yesterday morning. I was … uh … working. He thinks I might be involved in his wife’s murder somehow.”
    There was a pause and then an arrogant snicker from the other end, “Oh I see, you’re the homeless lady who’s all over the news. Well, that’s what you get for going through other people’s garbage. You should really find a different job. Wait until I tell the girls at my Bunco party this evening. You’ll be the main topic of discussion.”
    “You can’t tell anyone about this, especially not Schmidt. I mean, how long have you known me? You know that I could never kill someone. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    “That’s the story of your life, isn’t it? Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’re right though, maybe I shouldn’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I actually know you. You’re such a mess. Doesn’t it bother you that people think you look like a bag lady?”
    “I don’t always dress that way. I was working.”
    “Whatever.”
    The conversation was winding down fast and I still hadn’t got what I called for. “Don’t you care that I may be a suspect in Amanda Schmidt’s murder? That I’ve been falsely accused and could be wrongly imprisoned for the rest of my life?” I asked.
    “No and it’s not really my problem. I have to run. I have an appointment.”
    “With Dr. Lieberman?” I asked.
    “What?”
    It always paid to have a spare ace tucked away, just in case. “Dr. Lieberman, the plastic surgeon. I saw you being wheeled out of his clinic last February.”
    “That’s not true. I was in Costa Rica for most of February. Honestly, Phillipena, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Costa Rica? Really? Well then, your husband must have been picking up someone else at the clinic. I wonder who?”
    A squirmy sound eschewed from Sheila’s end. “Fine. I had some work done, so what?”
    “Well, I don’t care, but your friends might. Oh, by the way, did you know that my parents purchased several tickets to the library fundraiser next week? They invited me to attend with them. I can hardly wait. I’m sure we’ll run into each other. Why, I bet most of your friends will be there, too. You think being associated with a homeless person is a problem? Wait until they find out you’re a regular with Dr. Nip and Tuck.”
    “That’s blackmail.” Sheila’s breath was coming in short gasps over the line.
    “Yup. Can you get me in?”
    “Even in high school, you were a pain in the butt.”
    “What about it?”
    I could just imagine her nervously tapping salon-acrylic nails as she tried to decide what to do. “Meet me at the coffee shop on Jefferson at eleven o’clock … and wear something decent.”
    *
    Sheila’s words echoed through my mind as I tossed outfit after outfit into a giant heap in the middle of my sofa. Nothing seemed right. When it came to clothing, I had two extremes:  grunge, or really grunge. Oh, of course unless you counted the one matronly outfit that I wore to church on Sundays and a few sexy pieces that I save for my occasional dates with Sean. Unfortunately, neither extreme would do. What I needed now was something that fell more in the category of wealthy urban sophisticate.
    In desperation, I headed for my on-line auction stockpile. After rummaging through a few plastic storage boxes, I extracted a designer sweater set, some cotton twill shorts, and a well-worn upscale handbag that I had picked up on a successful raid of cans in the Heights area. Normally I don’t like to waste the gas going so far from my own neighborhood, but sometimes a trip to a high-end neighborhood was worth the extra money.
    After a quick shower and a few swipes with my shaver (I’m sure the clubbers wouldn’t