“Sienna Quinn. She is his ex-wife.”
She rolls her eyes. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“You’re welcome. Was that sarcasm?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. I will add your input to my database.”
Sighing, she begins anew. “Are women complaining about Calvin Peet online?”
“Give me a moment.” He pauses. “There are over a hundred thousand social media posts using hashtag cockblockCal.”
My pretty partner giggles. “Can you find out who tweeted first? The rest were probably showing their solidarity.”
“Fascinating.”
Trying not to laugh, she bites her tongue. “Did any of those women have knowledge of electronics or tubes?”
“Or know someone who does.” I feel compelled to add my two cents to the strange conversation.
“This may take some time. I will get back to you when I am done processing. Is there anything else I can do?”
Sam laughs. “Can you tell me who killed Calvin Peet?”
There’s a long silence before the AI unit answers. “I have over one thousand suspects. Would you like the list?”
“No, I’m good.”
Chapter Eleven
Sam
In Brooklyn, Suds circles the block, spies someone leaving, and burns rubber doing a U-turn to snatch a rare parking spot.
Watching him tap front and back bumpers gives me an idea. “I’ve been thinking…”
“I could smell the wood burning.” Amused at his cleverness, he switches off the ignition.
“Ha, ha, ha. But you’re wrong. It’s not logs but squirrels on wheels who power my gray matter. Now, where was I, before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, I remember. I thought I might get more honesty out of Sienna if you and Andy amscrayed.”
“Whoa, hold on little lady. You don’t think she was cheating on him because-”
“No, no. But we women have things we’d rather keep to ourselves, especially if you’re married to an alpha male. She might not want to spill all the beans for fear her husband might overreact.”
“Are we talking about them or us?” His eyes narrow. “Because if you got something on your mind, I already know.”
Huh?He thinks I’m fooling around? No way. I would never… Before I can ask what he means byalready knows,the door swings open.
“Come on in.” Slate steps aside, allowing us to squeeze into a granite and stainless steel kitchen.
Andy, dark circles under his eyes, nods at us but doesn’t rise. He’s got Sienna draped in his lap. His tie and wrinkled jacket hang over the back of his chair. Underarm stains indicate he’s been wearing the same shirt since yesterday.
My chest hurts for the two so I rush over and embrace them in a smothering, bear hug. “Don’t worry. Me and Suds are going to crack this case wide open.”
“Thank you.” Sienna smiles sadly but Andy grimaces.
With my pathetic attempt at cheering ended, Slate puts some much needed coffee in my hands, and leans against the fridge. “What did you learn from the repair guy?”
