Unholy Matrimony by Peg Cochran Page B

lipstick from her bag and touched up her lips. “I think we should go check out this guy’s office. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’s there.”
    “Yeah. And maybe he can tell us where to find that no-good, disappearing son of his.” Lucille flicked on her blinker. “There’s only one thing. We don’t know where his office is.”
    “I do,” Flo said triumphantly. She opened her purse, rummaged around briefly, and pulled out a card. She flashed it at Lucille. “His business card. He gave it to me at the rehearsal dinner. In case I ever want to invest my money.” Flo laughed. “What money? It’s all gone by the end of the month.”
    “What’s it say?” Lucille tried to peer at the card, but when a horn sounded she quickly turned her attention back to the road.
    “The office is somewhere on Springfield Avenue in Summit.” Flo tapped the card with a long, manicured fingernail. “It’s the Bassett Building. I know where that is. There’s a shoe store on the ground floor. This here’s on the second floor.” She looked out the window. “You’ve got to turn around.”
    “As soon as I find a place.”
    Flo’s head swiveled in both directions. “Do a U-turn. No one’s coming.”
    “No, thanks. I don’t need no tickets.”
    Lucille pulled into the nearest driveway, backed out and went in the opposite direction.
    Not even ten minutes later, she had parked the car and she and Flo were heading toward the Bassett Building.
    Lucille glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. I hope we haven’t missed him. Always assuming this is where he’s been keeping himself.”
    They pulled open the door to the Bassett Building and headed toward the elevator.
    “What floor did you say it was?” Lucille asked, her finger hovering over the buttons.
    “Second.”
    The elevator door opened on the second floor, and they got out. The hallway was quiet and most of the offices were dark behind their frosted glass doors.
    “I got a feeling we’re too late,” Flo said as they headed down the hallway toward the suite that housed Investments International and Alex Grabowski’s office.
    “Yeah, but if he’s spending his nights here, he might still be around.”
    They turned the corner and stopped outside Suite 215.
    “It’s dark,” Lucille said as she rattled the door handle. She peered through the frosted glass. “I don’t see nobody in there.”
    “Maybe he’s in an inner office. Knock on the door.”
    Lucille rapped on the glass.
    They waited.
    “No one,” Lucille said, disappointed. She turned away from the door. “We might as well go. I’ve got to get dinner started anyway.”
    “Wait.” Flo put up a hand. “What’s this.”
    A bundle of mail tied together with twine was lying on the floor just outside the door to the office.
    Lucille poked it with her toe. “Looks like today’s mail.”
    “I guess that means Alex hasn’t been around. He would have picked it up, don’t you think?”
    “Yeah.” Lucille stooped down and read the return address on the top piece of mail. It was a manila envelope with a clear cellophane window where the address showed through.
    “Get a load of this.” Lucille picked up the stack of mail and pointed to the top piece. “Looks like he got something from some insurance company. National Mutual Life Insurance Company,” she read out loud.
    “I wonder who he was insuring,” Flo said. “I mean, don’t you think it’s kind of suspicious that Donna has turned up dead and her husband is missing? Maybe he took a policy out on her. He could be planning to collect the dough and then skip town.”
    Lucille looked up and down the hall. Everything was quiet—no one tiptoeing about.
    “What if we take this here envelope back to my place and steam it open and see for ourselves?”
    Flo gasped. “Are you serious?”
    Lucille shook her head. “Yeah. Then we can bring it back, tie the bundle back up and no one will be the wiser. Alex wasn’t here today, and something tells me