Sleight of Hand by Kate Wilhelm

her hair had bleached out to a pale gold. It was shorter than it had been. And she was radiant.
    "Alex was sketching a lot, but not finishing anything, and I kept wondering what was going on here, and we both said, 'Let's go home.' So here we are. It was a fabulous trip, fairy-tale stuff, but even Adam and Eve must have wondered what was on the other side of the wall. We wanted to come home and go back to work. I have tons of pictures and a few things I brought back. Alex has stacks of mail, e-mail messages, letters from his agent. It will take him weeks to plow through it, and he told me to beat it before you left for the day. So I did." She said this in a rush with no pauses. "What's been going on?"
    "Too much to cover in a few minutes," Barbara said. "A new client, murder charge, like that."
    Shelley caught in her breath. "I just knew it. Tell me about it."
    Barbara started. At four-thirty Shelley stopped her and said, "Remember how we used to get take-out food, burritos and stuff, and take it to your apartment to eat while we talked? Let's do that now. I told Alex I might run late and he said good."
    After Barbara cleaned off her desk, they went to Taco Loco, ordered far too much food, and took it to Barbara's apartment where they sat at her small table and proceeded to eat most of it.
    "That was so good!" Shelley said, leaning back. "You can't get a decent chile relleno on a single island in Hawaii."
    "Too many coincidences," Barbara said, bringing her account up to the present.
    "Connie Wilkins vanishes and ends up in the ocean, her husband is killed, and on the same day his daughter has a psychotic break." She scowled. "And the cops aren't even considering a double murder, one killer."
    "I see your point," Shelley said. "Then, there's the boat. That's the problem, isn't it?
    Do you think Jay Wilkins would have pressed charges?"
    "From what little I know about him it seems likely." She got up to make coffee. "I think the real question is why did Wilkins set up Wally And I haven't come up with anything that remotely resembles an answer.
    "Anyway, I'll be getting discovery next week and maybe a whole raft of suspects will come to light. And I have to find a way to meet and talk to Stephanie Breaux and her family, even if I can't question the daughter."
    "I know Stephanie Breaux," Shelley said thoughtfully. "She's a very good shopkeeper. I go in there now and then. She remembers her customers' names, their taste, more or less their measurements."
    "What else? What's she like aside from running a good shop?"
    "Tall, a little taller than you, very dignified, elegant in an old-world sort of way. Dark hair turning a little gray, in a chignon, reserved in her manner and conservative in her clothes. Just elegant and refined. Want me to talk to her?"
    Barbara shook her head. "I'd better do it. It might make a difference in that you're a customer. I don't want to talk to the saleswoman, but to the ex-wife of Jay Wilkins and the mother of his two kids, whom he apparently despised. What I really need to find out is something about the daughter. How passive is she during her psychotic breaks?"
    "Dr. Minnick," Shelley said promptly. "You know that was his specialty for most of his career back in New York, treating mentally disturbed youngsters. He knows all about schizophrenia."
    "Bailey's due on Monday, discovery will start coming in, and we'll go on from there.
    Next Sunday, Dad's house for a celebratory dinner, and Dr. Minnick is invited. We'll have a private showing of Wallis Lederer, the great sleight of hand artist."
    "Not much yet on Wilkins," Bailey said on Monday, as gloomy as usual, and as thirsty. That time of day he settled for coffee, although any time after three he headed straight for the bar. "Neighbors thought he was a pain in the neck, complained about kids leaving stuff in sight, an old truck, a bicycle too close to the street, things like that. He liked his neighborhood kept neat and clean. He was ready to sue at