Pink Balloons and Other Deadly Things (Mystery Series - Book One) by Nancy Tesler Page A

called his stockbroker--who had refused to disclose information on a client--and pulled his TRW, coming up with the savvy conclusion that Rich was solvent and had no judgments against him. All of which they could have found out by asking me.
    There was one eye-stopper on the sheet. The investigator had followed Rich to a restaurant called Haji's Corner on MacDougal Street in Greenwich Village.
    He had watched Rich meet with an attractive young woman. No further description of the woman was given. The investigator had noted that they’d left separately. I was curious. Was it a business luncheon, or had Rich been cheating on Erica? Could this be important?
    The report, except for this piece of information, was a rip-off. I went through it in detail, making note of the hours the investigator allegedly had spent over several days alternating between watching Rich’s building and his home. I checked the dates; March 28 through April 12. The whole thing was a scam, I thought disgustedly. If Rich had hidden money, which I was sure he had, looking through his company garbage wasn't going to unearth it. And watching our house...
    Suddenly, sunlight bursting through a raincloud-— if there had been a new dark-colored Toyota or Nissan parked in Rich’s lot or parked near the house at any of these times, surely a trained investigator would remember. Maybe, if we were really lucky, he’d have noted the license plate number. Mirimar had been no help in my getting a better settlement, but maybe, just maybe, they’d earned their fifteen hundred bucks after all.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Wednesday, May 26
    WEDNESDAY IS MY DAY OFF which, as any working mother will tell you, means errand day. As soon as Allie and Matt left for school, I called Tina Moscone about switching car pools. Tina’s one of those friends you make because your kids are in the same class and on the same Little League team, so you’re driving the same car pools. We’ve worked on a couple of PTA committees together. She’s easy to get along with and I was pretty certain I could count on her.
    “I’m sure everything will be straightened out in a couple of weeks, Tina. I’ll drive for you for a month if you’ll cover me.”
    “Forget about making it up. Everybody has times they need a little help. Are you--is everything okay with you and the kids?”
    “We're managing. But I don't want to be responsible for getting the children to school and practice and everything in case—-something comes up.”
    “No problem,” she said, tactfully refraining from asking embarrassing questions. “Tell Allie and Matt they can come here if you're going to be late. Italians never run out of pasta.”
    “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
    I hung up, determined to get to know Tina better after all this was over.
    A quick glance at the calendar showed a ten-thirty appointment at the vet's. All three cats were due to have their shots.
    I had a moment of panic. I’d let them out this morning. Heaven knew where they were by now. I flew out of the house in my robe with Horty in hot pursuit. Placido was sunning himself on the front porch. I made a grab for him, but he took off like a cheetah who's spotted his dinner when Horty came charging out the door.
    “Sit, Horty!” I yelled in frustration. But sitting was the last thing on Horty’s mind.
    Three-quarters of an hour later, with Horty safely locked inside the house, I’d rounded up the yowling trio, won the battle of the carrier cages, and lined them up on the front porch. Their ear-splitting complaints followed me into the house.
    I telephoned Meg and asked her if she could get free for a few hours. I wanted moral support when I faced down the Mirimar investigator. She promised to arrange for Franny to relieve her by noon.
    Good as his word, Brodsky had had my car delivered. It was parked in front of my house, the keys pushed through my mail slot, but I took Meg’s car so I could return it.
    As I backed out of the driveway, I was surprised