Ed Lynskey - Isabel and Alma Trumbo 02 - The Cashmere Shroud by Ed Lynskey Page B

intend to fight your fire with our fire.”
    “I ’ve got to get back to the station house,” said Sheriff Fox.
    Pet ey Sampson growled louder.
    “I believe that would be for the best,” said Isabel.

Chapter 14
    D wight Holden, as the best Alma could discern it, was powering through a midlife crisis, or perhaps it was male menopause, if such an ailment existed. In short, he’d become a bigger wreck than a demolition derby since they’d last seen the criminal attorney.
    First he’d moved from his high-scale condo into a tinted glass A-frame he’d had erected on the southern edge of town in a forested lot of weeping willows and sycamores. Then he wore his salt-and-pepper mane gathered into a Colonialist’s pigtail. As if all that wasn’t incongruous enough, he’d gotten his ear pierced and flashed a gold stud earring similar to the one of his sports idol, Michael Jordan.
    Alma , Isabel, and he conspired in his home office. They’d eaten dinner at home, and so had Dwight judging by the dirty dishes they observed stacked in the kitchen sink. The lingering charred odor matched to burnt pork chops. Even Alma with her diminished sense of smell could register how Dwight was a subpar cook in addition to a reluctant dishwasher.
    Isabel was also stunned. “Dwight, are you having a difficult day?” she asked.
    A slight man not much taller or heavier than the sisters, Dwight stroked his chin, acting is if her question flummoxed him. “I’m not sure I take your meaning, Isabel. Pretty much everything is coming up roses, thanks.”
    Alma could no longer stifle her exasperation. “What ails you, Counselor? We’ve heard of being stuck in the August doldrums, but seeing this is obscene.” She swept a hand to signify the A-frame’s disheveled condition. “For starters, you live in this glass fish bowl instead of the condo. Why is that?”
    “I like the tranquil views into the woods and Mother Nature.”
    “What’s up with the unwashed dishes left in the sink?” asked Alma. “Can’t you hire a maid service? Did you run out of dish detergent? Ever heard of keeping a shopping list?”
    “I find it more efficient to wash a large batch of dishes at once.”
    “Meantime you attract a plague of mice and roaches,” said Alma.
    Dwight steepled his fingers and centered his chin on them. “Oh.”
    “ Yeah, oh. And why on earth are you wearing ladies’ jewelry?” asked Alma.
    Isabel broke in. “ Gentlemen do that now, Alma. Earring studs are considered in vogue for manly wear.”
    “Well, I , for one, don’t like it,” said Alma.
    Sighing, Dwight clasped his hands in his lap. “Anyway. What brings you to my humble abode after my office hours may I inquire? I have a sneaky feeling I already know what the topic of this meeting is set to become.”
    “If you r sneaky feeling points to Ray Burl’s murder, then you’re correct because we find ourselves in the throes of its investigation.”
    “Uh-huh,” said Dwight , kneading his temples with his thumbs. “Have I ever brought up you are my most controversial clients?”
    “That’s what makes us so interesting,” said Alma.
    Isabel smiled in sympathy. “ We can’t be blamed for getting into these jams. Believe it or not, we go to extraordinary lengths to avoid getting involved, but it runs counter to our nature. We must’ve been born to be Nosey Grandma Parkers butting into others’ business.”
    “ I see.” Dwight stopped massaging his temples. “Don’t doctors prescribe anti-snooping meds to manage your, uh, condition?”
    “ They’d be of little benefit,” said Alma. “Only an Act of Congress will make Isabel take her allergy pills.”
    “My allergy is much improved,” said Isabel, sniffing.
    “Might either of you carry any spare aspirins in your pocketbook?” asked Dwight. “I can feel a migraine is seconds away from hitting me.”
    Alma leaned forward and poked Dwight in the forearm. “When it rains it pours, and you’re our handy