By Sue Grafton
A tough-talking former cop, inner most investigator Kinsey Millhone has manage a modest detective employer in a quiet nook of Santa Teresa, California. A twice-divorced loner with few own possessions and less own attachments, she’s bought a tender spot for underdogs and misplaced explanations. 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 support to discover the genuine killer. If there is something that makes Kinsey believe alive, it truly is taking part in at the part. 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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Extra resources for A is for Alibi (Kinsey Millhone Alphabet Mysteries, No. 1)
The plastic seats have little rips in them that leave curls of nylon on the underside of your stockings and the tables have black Formica tops handetched with words like hi. To the left above the bar, there's a dusty marlin, and when people get drunk, Rosie lets them shoot rubber-tipped arrows at it with a toy gun, thus averting aggressions that might otherwise erupt into vicious barroom snits. The place appeals to me for a couple of reasons. Not only is it close to my home but it is never attractive to tourists, which means that most of the time it's half-empty and perfect for private conversations.
Her tone was cautious but there was also a note of interest, as though she considered it a curious inquiry but not necessarily bad. "You don't sound that surprised," I said. "Actually I am. " "Well, I'm just starting to look into it and I may come up with a blank. We don't have to talk here if it's inconvenient. I don't like to interrupt your work. "This is fine with me, as long as you don't mind watching me clip a few dogs. I really can't afford a time-out right now. We're loaded today. Hold on," she said.
He made a skeptical pull at his lower lip and then shrugged. "It's a new one on me but I'll take your word for it," he said. " "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.