Melinda licked her lips. “Not problems. Ben and I went to Vegas, sure. We’d see the shows, we’d gamble…sometimes I’d win, sometime I’d lose. I always enjoyed it, but I didn’t feel any compulsion to keep doing it.”

“And once again, you’re telling us that the problems happened after the murder.”

“Absolutely. I was a psychological wreck and was given this sudden windfall. I wish insurance wouldn’t have been so forthcoming. Time might have helped me be more discerning.”

“Why do you think Shriner suddenly decided to blow your cover?” Oliver asked her.

“Because you’re reinvestigating the case and he didn’t want to look like a boob to the cops.”

The stories jibed…maybe too well. Marge said, “You said that he agreed to cover to your folks, but only after you agreed to pay him some money. To me, that sounds like blackmail.”

For the first time, Melinda smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far…I…he needed money and I was thoroughly disgusted with the police. It would have been nice if he had investigated Ben’s murder with a little more zeal, but…” A sigh. “I didn’t pay him much. Frankly, I don’t see why I should have had to pay him at all. The police should have done their job.”

“How well did you know the primary investigators?” Oliver wanted to know.

“I called a lot at the beginning. Less after Phil started hunting around. In the end, they retired and the case went cold. By the time I recovered from my gambling and my fears and my infinite psychiatric bills, I just wanted to move on with my life.”

“When you called up the investigators, who did you talk to?” Marge asked.

The question momentarily stumped her. Then Melinda said, “Mostly Detective Lamar, I think. I found him more congenial than Detective Vitton.” She looked at her watch. “I’m late to a luncheon and the honoree is a very dear friend. I’d like to go.”

Oliver said, “What would you say if I told you—”

Marge said, “Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Warren.”

“Not a problem. But please next time, do call.”

Marge stood and signaled Oliver to the door. “We will. Good-bye now.”

As soon as they were outside, Oliver turned on his partner. “Why’d you interrupt me midsentence?”

“Because I didn’t want you to tell her about Vitton’s suicide until we know more.”

“But I wanted to see how the Ice Queen would react! I haven’t ruled her out as a suspect. The murder looked like a hit, and she has a gambling problem. How do you know she didn’t whack him for insurance? Or maybe she hired Shriner for the hit—or Vitton and that’s why he killed himself.”