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Although we weren’t personally acquainted, I knew a few things about him. He had been associated with Preston Pederson for many years. From what I’d gathered so far, he was an untitled bag man, an associate unafraid to get his hands dirty should that be necessary. He was big, maybe two hundred fifty pounds on a wide, heavy-boned frame. In his day, he would have been a fearsome adversary. But his day was gone on the wings of time, too much drink, rich fatty foods, and not enough exercise. Even so, he could probably wipe the floor with me. If he could catch me.
    He turned his face toward me silently and then, with a certain deliberation, raised his glass to his lips. He wore a pair of dark aviator-style sunglasses that effectively concealed his eyes. Cool, very cool.
    â€œTod and Josie aren’t here,” Pederson said, adding an ice cube to his glass. He didn’t bother to use tongs.
    â€œI know,” I said. “I just came from the hospital.”

 
    Chapter 9
    H illier raised one eyebrow and looked at me. “So you know about Calvin being shot.”
    â€œI’m here to check out the circumstances.” I paused by Mrs. Pederson’s chaise and ogled her bosom for a second.
    â€œWhat’s the point of that?” whined her husband. “What can you do about some neighbor nutcase firing off a gun?”
    I didn’t make the obvious response that there were some unanswered questions, such as where, who, and why. More than just some, actually. “Detecting is what I do,” I said. I thought I was being satisfactorily obscure. I allowed my mouth to curve slightly in a somewhat enigmatic smile. I thought it was, anyway.
    â€œIf you need a guide around the place, I’ll be happy to oblige,” said Maxine. She put out her hand for help rising from the couch. Since I was closest, it seemed only polite I offer her my hand.
    â€œOh, for Chrissake, Max! Give it a break. You come on to every upright male that shows up with a half a wit.” I turned my gaze on him. Alvin’s face took on a decidedly unhealthy color. He gulped down half his drink. For his gut’s sake, I hoped it wasn’t too strong.
    â€œI appreciate the offer, Mrs. Pederson.” I said, mostly to bug Alvin. “You can show me the way to the second-floor rooms that look out on the lake.” I didn’t use my Bogart imitation.
    â€œOh, you want to see the bedrooms?” Her grin was predatory. Her husband shuddered, and Hillier seemed to stare impassively. Maxine missed their reactions as she spun on her heels and led me through the sliding patio door. Once out of sight of the two men on the patio, her attitude de-escalated and she stalked ahead of me to the stairs that led, I learned, first to a landing, then to the long second-floor hall that bisected the house. There were five rooms on the second floor, Maxine told me, four being used as bedrooms, but only two faced the lake. One was the master bedroom with a broad sliding glass wall that led to a narrow balcony directly over the patio. I could hear Pederson and Hillier in conversation. From her stance, I figured Maxine was straining to hear what they were saying.
    The other bedroom had no balcony, was smaller, comfortable with a queen-sized bed and a highly polished armoire instead of a closet. The windows did look out on the lake. By twisting my head I could get a narrow look through the removable screen at the swim area, but it was an awkward position at best.
    Maxine turned arch as we went back to the hall. “My room is over there,” she said, gesturing across my chest.
    â€œSince you have no view of the lake, I won’t need to see it,” I said. “I take it you and your husband live here with the Bartelmes?”
    Her hesitation was miniscule, but I caught it. “Oh, no, but we’re here for Josie and Tod during these troubles. You know.” Her voice trailed off as if she wasn’t sure how to