Page 3 of Murder By Misdirection

“That has been known to happen,” Chu considered and tapped a couple of keys on his keyboard.

“Yeah, well, then he got hired for a huge show in Las Vegas. Pretty much just up and left us. I will give him the fact that he paid his child support and some extra so my mother never had to struggle.”

“A lot of men don’t,” Chu stated flatly as he looked from Pro to his screen and back.

She peered through the window where Max sat at the table. Gone was the velvet jacket, as well as his belt.

Chu could see moisture in her eyes as Pro spoke. “I worshipped him as a child, worshipped him like a fool. Then I visited him in Vegas a couple times.”

“I take it that didn’t go well?”

“He was remarried to a racist bitch named Trixie, who had the IQ of a house plant. She made it clear she didn’t like Max’s little brown mistake running around her house.”

“Always wondered about your blue eyes,” Chu said. “I used to think they were contacts.”

“Genetic predisposition passed down…from our perp,” she said and shook her head. “When we question him, I want in.”

Chu finally stood. “I can’t let you do that, Pro.”

“I want to tell him what I think of him, and that if he killed that man—”

“You’re too close

, Pro,” Chu interrupted.

Pro turned to her partner, her eyes aflame.

Chu spoke calmly. “Besides, he asked for a lawyer. I can’t question him until the counselor arrives.”

Pro nodded. “Okay, I won’t ask him anything. Give me just two minutes to tell him off.”

Chu exhaled heavily. “All right, but I’m observing you, and if you step out of line, you’re outta there and off the case.”

“Thanks, Tom,” Pro said, and she walked to the door. Chu hit a button, a buzzer went off, and she stepped in.

The handsome older man looked up from the manacles which held him to the table. He didn’t attempt to rise.

“Pumpkin!” he exclaimed, delighted as Pro walked in.

She leaned across the table from him and looked down at her father. “Don’t you call me that. You have no right to call me that.”

The bearded man smiled back amicably, the light dancing in his eyes. “It’s what I called you when you were a kid. You loved it.”

Pro sat. “I’m not a kid anymore, Max.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. “But here you are—a detective. It seemed like yesterday that you graduated the police academy.”

“Which you didn’t attend,” Pro fumed.

“I didn’t want to be in the way. It was your day—yours and Joe’s. I didn’t want to come between you two.”

“As I recall, you were also busy getting married to—which one was that? Mrs. Marvell number five or was it six?”

“That was Judy,” Max snorted. “Not one of my better choices.”

“Sounds like she was the first one since Mom that didn’t have a name like a stripper.”

“I can’t believe you are still angry over Trixie after all these years. I divorced her…”

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