By Sue Grafton
A tough-talking former cop, deepest investigator Kinsey Millhone has organize a modest detective enterprise in a quiet nook of Santa Teresa, California. A twice-divorced loner with few own possessions and less own attachments, she’s received a smooth spot for underdogs and misplaced reasons. Eight years in the past, Nikki Fife used to be convicted of killing her philandering husband. Now she’s out on parole and wishes Kinsey’s aid to discover the genuine killer. If there is something that makes Kinsey consider alive, it is enjoying at the facet. When her research turns up a moment corpse, extra suspects, and a brand new cause to kill, Kinsey discovers that the sting is closer—and sharper—than she imagined.
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Additional info for A is for Alibi (Kinsey Millhone Alphabet Mysteries, No. 1)
By peering around the doorjamb, I could spot several dogs in various stages of being done up. Most were shivering, their eyes rolling piteously. One was having a little red bow put in its topknot, right between its ears. On a worktable were some little brown lumps I thought I could recognize. The groomer, a woman, looked up at me. " "The dog just stepped on that brown lump," I said. She looked down at the table. "Oh Dashiell, not again. Excuse me a minute," she said. Dashiell remained on the table, trembling, while she grabbed for some paper towels, deftly scooping up Dashiell's little accident.
A flush had crept up to her cheeks and I gave her a moment to compose herself. "I know it looked like I killed him out of jealousy or rage, but I didn't care about that stuff. By the time he died, I just wanted to get on with my own life. I was going back to school, minding my own business. " Her voice trailed off. " "I think a lot of people wanted to. Whether they did or not is another matter. I mean, I could make a couple of educated guesses but I don't have proof of anything. " She flushed again slightly.
I must have. Laurence and I shared the paperwork but he had most of the actual contact with the business managers. " "I've heard he was having an affair with her," I said. "I don't like to gossip about the dead," Scorsoni said. "Me neither, but he did play around," I said carefully. " Scorsoni smiled at the box he was drawing on his legal pad. The look he gave me then was shrewd. "Well, I'll say this. One, the guy never forced himself on anyone. And two, I don't believe he would get himself involved with a business associate.