Page 7 of Little Merry Murder

“What’supis that you have been arrested for murder.”

“Yeah … well, it’s the reason my mom hired you, right? So you can find out who did it, and I can put this whole mess behind me.”

“When’s your bail hearing?”

“Tomorrow. Can’t wait to get out of here.”

“You’re assuming bail will be granted.”

“Oh, it will be. My lawyer knows what’s up.”

His unsophisticated, childish vocabulary was grating on me.

“Have you ever been in front of a judge before?” I asked.

“Not for murder. Why?”

Not for murder.

But perhaps for something else.

Interesting.

“Here’s a little advice for tomorrow,” I said. “Check your attitude at the door.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You risk your bail being denied.”

He laughed. “I’m not worried.”

“You should be.”

“I have two things in my favor—wit and charm.”

“And yet you were still arrested,” I said, my snark on full display.

He blinked at me, his expression so obnoxious I wanted to slap it right off.

Take a breath.

Calm yourself.

He is your client.

I was used to having a certain level of sympathy for people when I took on a homicide investigation. And I did, for Claire. As far as Owen was concerned, he struck me as the kind of guy who could get pushed off a cliff, and most would think he deserved it.

“Chief Foley has it out for me,” Owen said. “No sense of humor with that guy.”

“He has a sense of humor. It’s just different than yours.”

“If you say so. You’re supposed to be representing my interests. So how about we get to it?”

If I wasn’t so motivated to get to the truth about Claire’s murder, I would have ended the conversation right there.

It wasn’t her fault she’d married a jerk.

Or was it?

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