My husband didn’t want an administrative role. “He likes solving murders.”

“Ellison, be reasonable.” She was the one being unreasonable. “Wright wants Anarchy to call him when you’re back in town.”

Sometimes it was easier not to argue. As I aged, I was becoming increasingly adept at not arguing with Mother while still getting my own way. “I’ll let him know.”

“Good. In the meantime, see if you can’t keep him from destroying relationships you’ve cherished for decades.”

“This call is costing you a fortune.” Not arguing. Just using her own words against her. I eased the receiver closer to the cradle. “I’ll talk to you when I’m back in town. Goodbye.” I hung up before she could object, then I sat and thought.

Mother and Daddy were meddling. Why was I surprised?

Randy peeked into the office. “Everything okay?”

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Your mother is a forceful woman.” He didn’t know the half of it. Mother was an F5 tornado in human form. Randy rubbed his chin. “You gave Pug and Jepp twenty-dollar tips.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all. It was nice of you.”

“I felt awful for dragging them out in that heat.”

“Not everyone’s so considerate.”

“They work hard.”

He grinned at me. “You need anything, you let me know.”

“May I make another call?”

He waved at the ancient black telephone. “Help yourself.”

I waited until Randy left, then dialed home.

“Jones’ residence.” Aggie, our housekeeper, answered the phone. I imagined my housekeeper standing in our air-conditioned kitchen with a glass of fresh-made iced tea nearby. In my mind, she wore a cotton kaftan, one with cobalt blue birds soaring across a cadmium green background, dangly earrings, and a wrist stacked with bangles.

“Aggie, it’s me.”

“Are you having a nice weekend?” Her voice was warm and caring.

“I found a body.”

She laughed.

I didn’t.

She caught herself. “You mean it?”

“I’m afraid so. Is Grace home?”

“I’m sorry, she’s not. She went to the Plaza with friends. Who died?”

“A man named Graham Landingham.”

“Is his wife called Sumner?”

“Yes. You know them?”

“I know their housekeeper, Bernie. What happened to Mr. Landingham?”

“He was shot.”

She inhaled sharply. “Oh, my gracious.”

“Anarchy is investigating. We may not make it home tomorrow.”

“I understand. I’ll keep an eye on Grace. And Max.”

“He’s not causing you any trouble?”

“No more than usual.” With Max, that could mean treeing cats, raiding the pantry, or chewing through the handles of all my purses. “He has his lady love to keep him happy.” Max and Charlie’s golden were soulmates. Together, they could destroy whole blocks. “They’re nothing I can’t handle.”

“Thank you, Aggie.”

“My pleasure. If I happen to talk to Bernie, I’ll let you know.”

If she happened to talk to Bernie? Knowing Aggie, that conversation was a certainty. “Again, thank you.”