Some Like It Lethal by Nancy Martin Page B

maniacs like Kitty. He was an old-fashioned newsman who always met his deadlines at the expense of his tender stomach. At first I hadn't understood why he stayed with the Intelligencer, but after a few months I caught on to his unrequited affection for a certain fifty-something copy editor who thought he was invisible. For me, his smile was always tired, but it was genuine.
    I told him what I knew about Rushton Strawcutter's death.
    "And your sister," Stan prompted when I had finished without mentioning Emma's trip to the hospital and the police presence outside her room there. "Sorry, but I heard her name mentioned."
    "My sister isn't involved in the murder," I said more calmly than I felt. "But the police are obligated to pursue all possible leads."
    Stan smiled grimly. "You sound like a press release."
    "Can you blame me?"
    "No, but I hope you won't blame me for doing my job either. Mind if I call downstairs and ask if anyone wants to talk to you?"
    I didn't want to talk to reporters, not even ones who were my friends. But it was naive to hope the press was going to ignore Emma. I preferred to have some control over what was printed about her.
    "Go ahead," I told Stan.
    He reached for his phone to make arrangements.
    A few minutes later, Mary Jude was pleased to see the team from the news department get off the elevator.
    "Perfect," she said. "You guys can have these cookies if you tell me which ones you like best and why."
    The three of them dug into Mary Jude's supply while asking me questions about what I had seen at the hunt breakfast. I tried to be honest but diplomatic, and I asked that I not be named as a source of their information. They agreed and quickly put the finishing touches on the story they'd spent the afternoon assembling.
    Before they got up to leave, I asked if they were working on the story of Tottie Boarman's recent trouble.
    "That's the business desk," Freddie told me, scratching his eyebrow with his pen. "Check with Marcy Edelstein. She's working that story. I just saw Boarman downstairs, though."
    "Downstairs?" I repeated. "Tottie Boarman was here at the Intelligencer?"
    "Well, only to pick up his date. His car came up to the curb when I went out for a smoke."
    "His date?"
    Freddie laughed. "Yeah, it was pretty funny, actually. Kitty went out with a kid on her heels, the both of them dressed like they were headed for a Mardi Gras party. When is she going to give that fur coat a decent burial? Boarman was pretty annoyed. I don't know if he was grossed out by their clothes or mad that Kitty had brought along a midget for a chaperone, but he was definitely peeved."
    "Wait a minute," I said. "You mean Kitty got into Tottie's car?"
    "Sure. And the kid climbed into the front seat with the driver."
    Mary Jude laughed. "Well, that explains why Boarman's gotten so many inches in Kitty's social columns lately."
    Kitty and Tottie? I couldn't have been more surprised if I'd heard Joan Rivers had started dating Alan Greenspan.
    I said, "Surely they're not seeing each other."
    "Weirder couples have happened," Freddie said, looking at me.
    A short silence slipped past as the four journalists waited for me to say something about my own dating habits.
    Before I found myself contributing to a news story about money laundering, Spike poked his head out and announced his low opinion of people who didn't share their cookies. I shoved him down into my bag and stood up. "I like the cookies with the green sprinkles best, Mary Jude. They're not so sweet that my teeth hurt, and they're thin enough that I can have a few and still fit into my dress this Friday night."
    The others voted on their favorite cookie, too, and left Mary Jude to work on her story. I made my way through the labyrinth of reporters' desks until I found Kitty's. She had commandeered some portable walls to create a cubicle for herself, so I stepped into her improvised office. A mountain of invitations lay in piles on the surface of her desk. I sat down in