Terry was slim and blond and had dated Morelli all through high school. None of which endeared her to me. She was wearing an expensive gray silk suit and matching heels. Her manicure was to die for, and the gun she carried in a slim-?line shoulder holster was discreetly hidden by the line of her jacket. Only someone who had worn a similar rig would notice Terry's.
“Stephanie Plum,” Terry said, “nice to see you again. Were you friends with Martha?”
“No. I'm here with my grandma. She likes to come to scope out the caskets. How about you? Were you friends with Martha?”
“Business associates,” Terry said.
That hung in the air for a moment.
“I hear you're working for your uncle Vito.”
“Customer relations,” Terry said.
Another silence.
I rocked back on my heels. “Funny how Martha and Larry died from gunshots one day apart.”
“Tragic.”
I lowered my voice and leaned a little closer. “That wasn't your job, was it? I mean, you weren't the one to, uh—”
“Whack them?” Terry said. “No. Sorry to disappoint you. It wasn't me. Anything else you want to know?”
“Well, yeah, actually my uncle Fred is missing.”
“I didn't whack him either,” Terry said.
“I didn't think so,” I said, “but it never hurts to ask.”
Terry glanced at her watch. “I've got to give my respects, and then I'm out of here. I have two more viewings tonight. One at Moser and one across town.”
“Boy, sounds like Vito's business is booming.”
Terry shrugged. “People die.”
Uh-?huh.
Her eyes focused on something beyond my shoulder, and her interest shifted. “Well, well,” she said, “look who's here.”
I turned to see who put the purr in Terry's voice and wasn't all that surprised. It was Morelli.
He draped a proprietary arm around my shoulders and smiled at Terry. “How's it going?”
“Can't complain,” Terry said.
Morelli cut his eyes to the casket at the end of the room. “You know Martha?”
“Sure,” Terry said. “We go way back.”
Morelli smiled some more.
“I think I'll go find Grandma,” I said.
Morelli tightened his hold on me. “Not yet. I need to talk to you.” He nodded at Terry. “Will you excuse us?”
“I need to be moving on anyway,” Terry said. She sent Joe a smoochy air kiss and went off in search of the Deeters.
Joe dragged me out to the lobby.