Leo raised the gun again and leveled the barrel at Cleo. Moving guardedly, he circled the desk to the body. He crouched and pressed two fingers on Walter's neck.

"He's dead," I said.

"And still warm," Leo noted.

He pulled the radio from his belt and called in a one eighty-seven.

Leo jerked his head toward the window. "Get out of here, Cat. Go out the window. Back-up's on the way."

"She didn't kill him. Walter was dead when we got here. What are you doing here anyway?"

"A neighbor called about a disturbance. A woman fitting your friend's description was overheard threatening to kill a man named Walter."

"Well technically many women fit Cleo's description."

"This woman was wearing leopard print spandex and a sparkling gold shirt."

"Not many women can pull that look off, I give you that."

Leo cocked his head toward the body. "Is it safe to assume he was one of the many Walters in the world?"

"Chicago Police," a voice bellowed from downstairs.

"Up here, Tommy." Leo‘s eyes gleamed, gun trained on Cleo. "You know Tommy," he said to me. "I'm breakin' him in."

I knew Tommy alright. He's a rookie from rural Wisconsin, hardly more than a kid. He was there the day somebody blew up Dorothy, the Mustang Jack gave me for a loaner. It was Tommy's first day on the Force and he was way too close to the fireworks. You could say I did my share of breaking Tommy in too.

Tommy's boots pounded the steps, taking two at a time. "What the heck, Leo," he called. "I was around back. You were supposed to call me before ?"

Tommy stomped into the room. He glimpsed Leo's weapon trained on Cleo and fumbled for his gun. Waving the forty caliber Glock between Cleo and me, he tracked the bloody paw marks to Walter's lifeless body. The red headed rookie's lips paled when he saw all the blood. He wrenched his eyes from the body and saw me for the first time.

"Cat?" Tommy stammered. "What'going on here?"

"Don't you point that gun at her," Leo said. "That's Tony DeLuca's daughter. Show some respect."

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Put the gun away, Tommy," I said. "Cleo and I are trained detectives."

Leo snickered.

"Pants On Fire Detective Agency," Cleo said crisply. "It's a highly regarded operation."

Leo let out a bark of laughter.

I ignored him. "My assistant ?"

"Partner," Cleo said.

"Cleo Jones, was worried about her husband, Walter. We stopped by to check on him. The door was unlatched so we came in."

"Your husband?" Tommy said. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Walter was a putz."

"She is overwrought with grief, and she doesn't know what she is saying."

A tear tumbled down Cleo's cheek. She dashed it away and sidled up next to me. Then she dropped something in my hand. I felt the keys to her Camry.

Cleo leaned over and whispered in my ear. "This isn't looking good for me, Cat. You know they always blame the wife. Promise me you will bail me out. You know where I keep my assets."

A siren wailed with increasing ear-shattering intensity, stopping cold on the street outside.

"Listen guys," I said, "I found the body before Cleo even came upstairs. I was calling it in when you arrived."

"Uh huh." Leo snapped the handcuffs on her wrists.

"What are you doing?" I demanded. "A murderer is getting away."

"For the last time, Cat, go home."

"You have the right to remain silent," Tommy began.

"Yeh, yeh," Cleo said. "You think I don't watch television."

I followed the three of them downstairs. "You're making a big mistake, Leo. I was with Cleo the whole time."

Leo glared at me. "She didn't say that, Tommy," he said. "Cat DeLuca doesn't know this woman. In fact she isn't even here."

"Wait," Cleo said. "I want to make a call."

"You can call your lawyer from the station," Leo said.

"Who said anything about a lawyer? I'm calling my sister, the ho. I want her out of my house. Walter's dead. It's all mine now."

The rookie's jaw dropped and Leo stopped on the stair to write something in his notebook.

I groaned. "Don't write that down, Leo. Does anybody have any duct tape I can borrow?"

The cops looked at each other.

"When did you first decide to kill your husband?" Leo asked.

"Don't answer that." I turned to the cops. "My assistant has nothing to say without a lawyer."

"Partner." Cleo piped in.

Tommy shrugged. "If she's innocent she won't mind answering the question."

"I'm not that innocent," Cleo said. "When Walter left me, I wanted to kill him. Somebody just beat me to it. That's all."

I threw up my hands. "Super glue, anything? I am begging here." I looked at the grinning cops and turned to Cleo. "I'll call a lawyer and meet you at the precinct. Do you think you can manage to keep it zipped that long?"

Cleo pressed her lips together in a thin line and nodded as we stepped onto the porch. The house was surrounded by cops, gawkers, and a neighbor waving a video camera. Leo angled his chin in a way that said, "Get outta here." I began walking to the Camry.

"Yoo hoo, Cat," Cleo called. "Don't forget I'm singing Saturday night at All Things Blue. Bail me out in time to shop for a dress."

A ripple of snickers erupted from the crowd.

"Flames," I muttered. "She's going down in flames."

I eased the Camry into the street. My breath came shallow and fast. A knot lurched in my gut. I needed a miracle.

I called my Uncle Joey.