Suckers - J.A. Konrath

THE NECRO FILE
A Harry McGlade Mystery by JA Konrath
Chapter 1
“It’s my husband, Mr. McGlade. He thinks he can raise the dead.”
The woman sitting in front of my desk was named Norma Cauldridge. She had the figure of
a Barlett pear and so many freckles that she was more beige than Caucasian. She also came
equipped with a severe overbite, a lazy eye, and a mole on her cheek. Not a Cindy Crawford type
of mole, either. This one looked like she glued the end of a hotdog to her face. A hairy hotdog.
Plus, she smelled like sweaty feet.
Any man married to her would certainly have to raise the dead every time she wanted sex.
But I didn’t become a private investigator to meet femme fatales. Well, actually I did. But mostly
I did it for the money. And hers was green just like anyone else’s.
I took a can of Lysol aerosol deodorizer from my desk and gave the air a spritz. Now it
smelled like sweaty feet and pine trees. With a hint of lavender.
“I get four hundred a day, plus expenses,” I told her.
I put away the air freshener and tried to sneak a look behind her large round Charlie
Brownish head. When she walked into my office a minute ago, I’d been watching the National
Cheerleading Finals on cable. The TV was still on, but I had muted the sound to be polite.
“I didn’t tell you what I want you to do yet.”
She was a whiner too. Nasally and high-pitched. It’s like God took a dare to make the most
unattractive woman possible.
“You want me to take pictures of him acting crazy, so you can use them in the divorce.”
On television a group of nubile young twenty-somethings did synchronized cartwheels and
landed in splits. I love cable.
“How did you know?” Norma asked.
I glanced at Norma. The only splits she ever did were banana.
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