Fiona Silk Mysteries 2-Book Bundle by Mary Jane Maffini Page B

(across, not lengthwise). Brush asparagus with oil. Season with sea salt, to taste. Grill just until nice grill marks appear.
    Live a little.

Six
    Luckily, I still had Sarrazin’s telephone number from the troubles of the previous fall. I dialed it before I lost my nerve.
    â€œI know who he was now,” I said.
    Sarrazin simply grunted on the phone. Of course, he’d already known the answer.
    â€œDaniel Dupree. A colleague of my husband.”
    â€œAnd you just figured this out how?”
    â€œI told you before that there was something familiar about him. When Philip mentioned this morning his friend had been killed, I realized where I’d seen the driver.”
    â€œHard to believe you wouldn’t recognize him right off.”
    â€œShouldn’t be. I met him at some business reception a couple of years ago, when I was still married. I probably saw him a few times at fundraisers and cocktail parties. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses then and whipping past me in a vehicle.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd what?”
    â€œDo you have anything else you want to tell me?”
    â€œWhat else would I want to tell you?”
    â€œYou never spent any amount of time with this guy?”
    â€œI didn’t even like him. He was sort of a blowhard. Anyway, I wasn’t his type. He always seemed to have a beautiful young woman with him.”
    â€œYou didn’t like him. Did he have a problem with you?”
    â€œI’d be surprised if he even remembered my name. I don’t think he even noticed me.”
    Sarrazin paused before speaking. “Are you sure? You
are
the kind of woman that men notice.”
    â€œNo, I’m not.”
    â€œSure you are. Just your hair alone is enough to get attention. And how many people have violet eyes? Maybe he just pretended.”
    I wish people wouldn’t talk about my hair. I have nothing but trouble with it, and I don’t get what the fuss is about. “Trust me. There’s a type of man who doesn’t register your existence if you’re over thirty. Or maybe even over twenty-five. He was definitely that type.”
    â€œOh, come on. You were the wife of a colleague. He must have been polite.”
    â€œI’m telling you, he never acknowledged my presence. He didn’t say hello. He didn’t shake hands. He looked right through me. I felt invisible. Of course, I disliked him instantly.”
    â€œDid your husband get upset about the way he reacted to you?”
    â€œYou mean the way he didn’t react to me. No. Philip would be absolutely oblivious to anything like that.”
    â€œHuh. Maybe you complained.”
    â€œAre you kidding? I wouldn’t have wasted my breath. First of all, Philip would have told me it was because I was wearing the wrong clothes or standing the wrong way or being generally unworthy of notice. I don’t know why you are asking these things, but you’re definitely barking up the wrong husband.”
    â€œCould be. The scene on the highway as you described it has a personal feel to it. Don’t you agree?”
    â€œYes, I do agree. It felt personal at the time. I was kind of shaken. But I don’t believe it was. I drive a ten-year-old Skylark with timing problems. I’m used to jerk behaviour aimed at me.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œI bet you don’t encounter it in your full-size police vehicle, looking like you do.”
    â€œWhat do you mean ‘looking like I do’?”
    â€œI mean a large man who carries a gun. And anyone could tell you’re a cop. I’m pretty sure that would be a good deterrent. So you don’t comprehend how the rest of us live. By that I mean non-cops, non-men, old car drivers.”
    â€œOkay. You don’t have to get huffy. So you think he gave you the finger because you were a woman driving an older model car? Because there are a lot of people who fit that description. You know what bothers me, as