“You gotta help me,” she said, rallying. The tears were gone, and her body had transformed again. The fireball was back. Ted might have admired her tenacity if he hadn’t begun to think she was nuts. One moment all she cared about was the money; the next she was weeping uncontrollably for the dead husband.

“What do you think I can do for you?”

“Get me that money.”

“If I thought you would leave me alone, I’d agree to almost anything.”

“And you can find out who killed him.”

The best way to proceed with crazy people is to stick to facts, speak cautiously, and make no sudden movements. “Actually, that’s not something I can do. That’s for the police to handle. We should let them take care of that.”

“No way. The cops don’t care. I talked to one of them. Duran his name was. Guy acted like I did it, fahchrissakes.”

And Duran might walk in the door any minute. Ted was starting to wonder whether facing a suspicious police detective might be preferable to continuing this conversation. He tried the direct approach.

“Mrs. Rubiano. Cheryl. That detective is coming here to interview me. If he sees us together, he is going to make some assumptions.”

“What assumptions?”

“That’s what the police do. It will look bad for both of us. Can you and I talk another time?”

“I know where you live.”

It wasn’t exactly a threat, but it was close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s good, because I want answers. You find who killed him, and I’ll pay you for your time outa the money I get from this deal.” She slid the file across the table again.

There is no money. The words screamed in his head, but he kept them from spilling out. The path of least resistance was clear. An hour or two of research at the courthouse would give him enough documented facts to convince her of the futility of proceeding further. It would not break a commandment, only bend it.

“Fine. This deal. This one deal. Anything I make off of this, you get half.” Negotiation was as much a part of him as his gender. He added, “After expenses.”

“Agreed. Now go find who killed Richie.”

“Not happening. I’m not a cop.”

“You got to.”

“Why?” Why wouldn’t she just leave?

“’Cause he was your friend.”

That was the price of getting her to leave. Ted had to acknowledge Richie Rubiano as a friend. That’s what she needed. Then she would go. He would pay the freight. “I’ll do what I can. Maybe I do owe him that. But Richie and I worked on a cash basis. No promises. I want to be paid up front. One thousand dollars. In cash.” Ted thought he could fend her off with an outrageous demand.