The Purrfect Murder by Rita Mae Brown

leisure. Just a few little things I’ve noticed that will need changes for you to get your certification.”
    â€œWhat would you do if I moved in before that?”
    â€œThrow the book at you.”
    Carla, entertaining a high opinion of her own intelligence, actually began to use it. “How much?”
    â€œHow much what?”
    â€œMoney. What do you want in order to check these things off the punch list?”
    â€œAre you trying to bribe a public official?” He pretended mock horror.
    â€œI’m trying to figure out why you’re being so difficult. If it isn’t money, do you want a suite of teak outdoor furniture?” Carla’s husband, Jurgen, owned a large outdoor-furniture manufacturing plant over in Waynesboro.
    â€œNo, I don’t. Wouldn’t have the time to use it, anyway.”
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    â€œFor you to study that list.” He walked past her to the hallway. “And you might reconsider how you treat this public official.”
    In the living room, the painting crew was putting the finishing touches on the woodwork. Not knowing whether they’d heard the conversation back in the guest room, Mike winked as he passed them.
    Orrie Eberhard, on a ladder, smiled. He didn’t like Mike, but he didn’t get in his way, either. Mike could hurt his business through rumor and innuendo. Orrie kept on the good side of him.
    Carla, puce-faced, came into the living room just as Mike pulled out in his county truck. “How long have you known Mike McElvoy?”
    Orrie carefully put his brush crossways on the open paint can. “Most of his life. We went through school together.”
    â€œDid he cheat?”
    â€œMa’am?”
    â€œDid he cheat on tests and stuff like that?”
    â€œNo, not that I know of.”
    â€œDo you think he’s honest?”
    Orrie ignored that question, since he didn’t want the reply to come back to him. “The thing you have to understand about Mike is, his father shamed the whole family. I mean, they were lower than earthworms. Mike has some power and he likes that. He’s kind of aggressive about it.”
    â€œWhat did his father do?”
    â€œDrank himself to death. Found him dead as a doornail on the swings at the elementary school.”
    â€œTherefore I shall assume that Mike doesn’t touch a drop.”
    â€œNo, ma’am, he doesn’t.”
    â€œAny vices?”
    â€œNow, Mrs. Paulson, I haven’t made Mike a life’s study. I mean, we get along okay, but he goes his way and I go mine. Plus, I don’t want him criticizing my work, even though it has nothing to do with the building code.”
    â€œIf it has lead paint in it, it does.”
    â€œYes, ma’am, that’s true.” Orrie began to appreciate how quick she was.
    â€œIs his marriage strong?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    She lifted an eyebrow, still looking up at him. “Everyone has an Achilles’ heel, Orrie, everyone.”
    â€œWell, Mrs. Paulson, for what it’s worth, I didn’t much like Mike in school and I don’t much like him now, but I get along to go along. Life’s a whole lot easier that way.”
    Carla gave him a tight smile and left. She had never learned to get along to go along, and she always felt there was something vaguely immoral about it or, if not immoral, weak-willed.
    Mike McElvoy wanted something. She was sure of that. Most people, if you hand them a fat envelope of cash, will take it. The question was how much. If he didn’t want cash, what did he want?
    She couldn’t bear more delays on this house or the expense they would entail. Jurgen would fuss.
    Carla had a sense, like many people, that there was a clear division of labor assigned by gender. Jurgen made the money. She spent it. She had to cajole him into it, but she used her arsenal of tricks to good effect.

12
    I wish I’d never said I’d do