A Shot to Die For by Libby Fischer Hellmann

brought the menus. “Sorry to be so slow. We’re a little shorthanded. One of my guys—well, he just up and left. How did you know this was our place?”
    “We guessed. Your mother did say it was a Greek restaurant.”
    “You were lucky. There’s two of them in town, you know.”
    “There are two Greek restaurants here?”
    She nodded. “The other one is Saclarides.’”
    “Saclarides? As in Jimmy Saclarides? The chief of police?”
    An odd expression crept across her face. “How did you know?”
    Mac, who’d been growing increasingly agitated, stood up. “Can you point me to the facilities?”
    Kim gestured to the back.
    “Order me a gyros, okay, Ellie? And a Coke.”
    “Sure.” Mac disappeared. “And I’ll have a Greek salad.” I looked up at Kim. “And a Diet Coke.”
    She scribbled our orders on a pad.
    “Luke Sutton.”
    She started. “Excuse me?”
    “That’s how I met Jimmy Saclarides.”
    Her eyebrows shot up. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
    She disappeared through the swinging door. When she came back with the pop, she was more composed, but I knew she was waiting for an explanation. I took a quick sip of my drink. “Luke Sutton nearly ran me down in his plane today. Jimmy Saclarides was with him.”
    She looked startled. “You’re kidding. Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. But that isn’t the reason I’m here. Meeting him reminded me of something I heard at the Lodge, and I wanted to ask if you knew about it.”
    She stuffed the pad into her apron pocket.
    “We were having a drink there a few days ago, and there was this waitress, Pari something….”
    “I know Pari.”
    I forgot. Subtract the tourists, and this was a small town. “She said your sister and Luke met there for drinks. More than once.”
    “Luke Sutton and Daria?”
    When I nodded, she looked at the ceiling, then the floor. Then she looked back at me. “You’re sure?”
    Again I nodded. “I was thinking, well, I wondered if the police knew. And if they did, what they were doing about it. It’s not like the Suttons aren’t well known. You know what I mean?”
    She nodded, a distracted, absentminded gesture. What was she thinking?
    “And then, when it turned out Jimmy Saclarides was riding shotgun in the plane with Sutton….” I looked out the window. The rain was starting to let up. “Well, I guess I’m beginning to see your point.”
    “My point? About what?”
    “About the police up here. Selective justice.”
    She ran her tongue around her lips. Her expression changed again, confusion giving way to an almost steely look. She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, just—just forget what I said before. I was pissed off. Everyone knows Luke and Jimmy are friends. They have been for a long time.”
    “That’s exactly my point.”
    “Yeah, but Jimmy Saclarides…well, his family and ours are close. Our mothers are best friends. He and I grew up together. We even went out in high school.”
    “You and Jimmy Saclarides?”
    “We used to call him Super Chief. And not for the train.”
    “Well, this close family friend has a buddy who just might be the man who abandoned your sister at the rest stop.”
    A door in back squeaked. Mac was on his way back.
    “That’s just—I can’t believe that. When were they supposed to have—have been together?”
    “According to Pari, it was late. Ten, eleven at night.”
    “But when? A month ago? Six months? A year?”
    “Not long before she died.”
    Mac came back and pulled out his chair. The scrape of the legs against the tile floor grated. Kim blinked, as if the sound had refocused her attention. A tiny vertical line creased her forehead. “Well. I guess I’ll have to ask Jimmy about it.” She looked over, as if seeing me for the first time. “Hey, thanks for coming in to tell me. I appreciate it.” She forced a smile, then started back to the kitchen. “Your food’s probably ready.”
    I watched her go. That wasn’t the reaction I’d expected.