The Busy Woman's Guide to Murder by Mary Jane Maffini

been a dynamite salesman as Haley had said. “How ya doin’?”
    I said firmly, “I am doing very well.”
    Haley hadn’t bothered to ask me if I recognized Randy. I did, although time hadn’t been kind to him either. The huge football player’s body had turned flabby and his dark hair had receded—well, actually descended, because there was lots of it on his chest, arms, and, although I didn’t want to check too closely, his ears. He was far too pale, a clue to his health.
    Haley inclined her head in Jack’s direction. “And this is, uh . . . I’m sorry; you look real familiar, but I don’t quite remember your name.”
    Jack was his gracious self. “Jack Reilly. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t remember you either, Harley.”
    “Haley,” I said quickly. “It’s Haley, Jack.”
    The hulk squinted at Jack, and then grinned. “Basketball, right? It’s all coming back to me.”
    “That’s me.”
    “You were pretty good. You still play?”
    “Not really. I’m into cycling now.”
    “Cycling,” the hulk said, the way he might have if Jack admitted he spent his time doing needlepoint studies of small pastel animals. He turned to me. “Real nice to see you again,” he lied politely and shook my hand. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m heading back to bed for a bit. Haley? You need anything?”
    She shook her head.
    “I always take care of my girls,” he said. “But first a bit more sleep.”
    “I’m up for good,” Haley said in a shaky voice. “But Charlotte’s here for a reason. You are just going to die when you hear this, Randy.”
    He stared at her, slack-jawed, before he said, “What?”
    “She thinks someone is trying to kill me.” Her blue eyes filled.
    Randy thumped down on the sofa and fixed his wife with a loving glance. “But why would anyone want to do that, sweetheart?”

Save stress: Prepare for your morning the night before—lay out your clothing, set up breakfast dishes and dry foods, have the coffee ready to go, and make your To Do list.

    5
    Home again. Jack, to his credit, did not give me a hard time about my wild idea that someone had killed Haley.
    “We’re both glad she’s still alive,” he said, by way of letting me off the hook. “And her husband is too.”
    “Right. Funny how it turns out that they’re still high school sweethearts. You don’t think of that kind of thing working out.”
    Jack gave me a strange look.
    “Thanks for coming with me out there. Better safe than sorry,” I added gratefully.
    “Can we forget about these mean girls now and enjoy our day?” Jack said.
    “Oh, sure.” I meant it too.
    Jack made some more coffee to wipe out the taste of Haley’s brew while I checked the phone to see that Sally, Margaret, and Pepper had all called. That was nice. My lovely contact from Woodbridge Therapy Dogs had too. My mother had phoned from somewhere exotic and left an excited message that could have meant either she was getting married again or she had a new handbag. Oh well, I’d find out soon enough. I left the messages and turned to Jack. Jack and I agreed on a winter wonderland walk with wieners once I’d warmed up fully again. We both had some fun reading and some new music to listen to. We don’t read the same kinds of books. I favor personal development books; Jack likes mysteries for some reason. I like funky alternative rock; he’s into world music. Big deal. We respect each other’s choices, more or less.
    At some point, we’d decide between an early dinner at one of our favorite restaurants or a movie. Picking the movie would involve flipping a coin, unless we saw two movies. Sunday. I love Sundays. It got off to a rocky start, but it was still the most luxurious day of the week. My To Do list was all fun things. I made a promise out loud to myself and Jack that we’d keep this day to ourselves. I hoped that would continue if “us” ever turned into more “us” than it currently was.

    Jack and I parked near Kristee’s