Murder on the First Day of Christmas (Chloe Carstairs Mysteries) by Billie Thomas

people.”
         I pushed the books and my laptop aside and got a folder from my desk. “This morning, while decent people were showering, I googled everyone we’re interested in, thinking that might be a good place to start.” I passed over a small stack of handouts I’d printed out the previous night.
         “And I thought cyber-stalking your ex-boyfriends was a waste of time.” She flipped through the papers. “You’ve honed your skills.”
         “Nice to be using them for good instead of evil.”
         “Is Leo still doing personal injury law?” she asked, referring to an ex-boyfriend.
         “In a storefront office right down from the Dollar Tree. And, yes, I take great satisfaction in that, no matter if it seems small and petty. It’s who I am.”
         “Jacob better watch his step.”
         “Why? I’m watching it for him.”
         “So, what’s in all this?” She indicated the stack. “Anything interesting.”
         “No smoking guns. Nancy is listed in the minutes of about thirty clubs. Gavin Beaumont has published a couple of articles in peer review journals about a new form of birth control. Angela once signed an online petition requesting a new vampire slayer.”
         Mom raised a questioning eyebrow.
         “Robin’s condo was featured in a local magazine last year,” I continued. “Saul’s books got reasonably favorable online reviews, except from one guy who called them schlock. He also had a web site that’s a shrine to himself.”
         Mom flipped through the stack till she found printouts of the site. “I see what you mean. His author’s photo is hilarious. He looks a foot taller and thirty pounds lighter.”
         “I know. That must be a Matchbox version of his Maserati. He’s towering over it.”
         “Look at this one. He didn’t even own a dog.”
         “He references Angela, although it took seven clicks to find it.”
         “Is this her in the picture?” She showed me a tiny shot of Saul with an even tinier woman in the background. The caption identified Saul and his research assistant.
         I took a deep breath. “There’s something I didn’t tell you at the party. Something about Angela.”
         Mom met my gaze.
         “I think she and Saul might’ve been involved.”
         “Oh, God.”
         “I mean, she didn’t say it right out. But the way she talked about him sounded, well, familiar.”
         “Oh, God.”
         “It was Mr. Kramer all over again.”
         “Chloe, I get it. This is worse than I thought. Detective McGowan might read more into that than there really is.”
         “What if he’s right?”
         My mother’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t possibly believe Angela would hurt someone, especially someone she cared about.”
         “But if she cared too much? Or if he rejected her? Or if she thought he was using her?”
         “Whose side are you on Chloe? We’ve known Angela since she was a child.”  Mom was well into irritated. “Even if a crime of passion were a possibility, which it isn’t, she wouldn’t have cold-bloodedly poisoned Saul or killed Oscar, and how does that hand fit into your little theory?”
         “Ok, chill.” I was startled by her mama lion vehemence. A major change of subject was definitely in order, and I grabbed the printouts. “I also found a bunch of stuff about Bunny and Garrison.”
         Garrison Moseley, a lawyer at one of the big downtown firms, had been Bunny’s first husband. Mom didn’t need to look at the articles to remember the scandal. Her friend Shelley Henderson had been right in the thick of it.
         “I didn’t read all the articles, but they’re juicy,” I finished.
         “That’s one word for it.” Mom leaned forward. “Remember my friend Shelley who handled media relations for Garrison’s firm and for Garrison himself, when he made