Lisa M. Lilly's Blog, page 3

Detectives At The Edwardsville Public Library

Recently I visited the Edwardsville public library in Southern Illinois as part of my book research.

I discovered the value of researching in person, American Girl dolls, and an outdoor bandshell.

While my Q.C. Davis mystery series mostly takes place in Chicago, the detective/lawyer main character was born in Edwardsville.  In the next book in the series (working title The Forgotten Man) she'll strive to solve two 1980s murders.  For that, she needs 1980s yearbooks, newspaper articles, and phone books.

I could have learned a lot online about what the library does and doesn't offer. And there are plenty of photos as well.

But I'm so glad I went there in person. I discovered things I wouldn't have known. They won't change the plot of the novel. But they will add to the story.

The Library Stacks

I loved the public library as a kid. It was an exciting world a two-block walk away. So of course my detective, Quille, and her friend Lauren will visit the Edwardsville public library.

Now that I've been there in person, I know what they'll see inside. And where they'll research. Probably at the long table in front of the stacks in the photo above.

And I may use a little poetic license and move these armchairs to a spot where they can talk over their findings.

Quietly, of course. 

Also, though they aren't looking for audiobooks, especially not in physical form, I enjoyed seeing these shelves full of them.

Outside The Edwardsville Public Library

I'm also glad I walked around the outside of the library. 

As the photos below show, there's tall sculpture at the front. And to one side is a bandshell.  I feel certain some outdoor event will occur there.

Which is great because one challenge when writing a follow-the-clues mystery is varying the places where the main character questions witnesses and suspects. (More on that in a later post about Edwardsville taverns.)

 

 

Surprise Dolls At The Library

Now to something I never would have learned through online research, as I had no reason to search for anything in the children's library.

You can borrow American Girl dolls from the Edwardsville Public Library. Now that I know that, at the very least Quille, my detective, will need to see them. And since the plot involves the murders of two little girls (including the sister Quille was named after), I'm sure there'll be a way to do that.

Stay tuned for more from my trip and about the book.

Best,

Lisa M. Lilly

P.S. Looking for the rest of the Q.C. Davis mysteries? Click here for a list of them in order. Also available in Large Print.

 

 

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Investigating A Difficult Woman

The Q.C. Davis mysteries are not message books. They're plot-driven, follow-the-clues detective mysteries. But I do begin each with a core idea.

In The Worried Man, it was the pain of death by suicide as well as Quille’s family history. In The Charming Man, the concept of friends, many of whom are like family, trapped in an apartment complex during a blizzard sparked the story. And for The Fractured Man, I focused both on long-lost childhood friends and how the urge to recruit others to a cause (there, a self-help organization) affected relationships.

The Troubled Man was different. (Click here for a book summary.)

Why A Difficult Woman

Because what came to me first was one character. Ivy. A woman not well liked to say the least. One whom most people found difficult to deal with. So much so that one of her daughters refused to live with her any longer.

But I also saw her as a woman who didn’t act out of bad motives. Instead, when she was alive, Ivy focused so much on controlling her environment and the people around her that she couldn’t let those she loved be who they were.

If a woman like that were killed, I imagined, there would be many suspects. And yet nothing she did was so over the top that it singled out any one person as the likely killer.

What also intrigued me was that Quille needed to get to know Ivy after she died. To solve the murder, she had to piece together this woman’s life without ever meeting her.

A Need For Control

I don’t know quite why Ivy speaks to me so.

Maybe it’s her need to control. Because I share that need. The difference is that I recognize it’s futile. My best shot at controlling anything is writing novels, where I get to create the whole world. (Maybe that’s why I love it so much?) Yet even there, sometimes characters take me places I didn’t expect.

In life outside of writing, I aim to be the opposite of Ivy. I try to listen, to offer support, to be kind. But a little of me envies Ivy. Not her death, of course, but her life. Full steam ahead, do what she wants, take no prisoners.

Parents vs. Children

And then there’s family. 

Quille investigates because Ivy’s younger daughter asks her to. Though she found her mother challenging, the daughter felt compassion for her. She also was motivated – probably more so – by her father.

As the soon-to-be ex-husband, police fasten on him as a suspect and arrest him. He has no money to pay his bond so he remains in jail while Quille investigates. His predicament allowed me to explore some parts of the criminal justice system in the United States that many people never see or think about.

And to see it through the eyes of someone who loves the accused man and has every faith in him.

You might have noticed that parents and children are a theme that runs through all the Q.C. Davis mysteries in one form or another. Whether it’s Quille’s real conflict with her mother, her relationship with her substitute mom (Carole, owner of the coffeehouse where Quille often hangs out), or how victims and perpetrators of the fictional crimes related to their caregivers, each book looks at how parents and children affect one another.

The odd thing is I didn’t necessarily see that until I started writing you this email. So thanks for helping me figure that out. And I hope you've been enjoying the mysteries.

Best,
Lisa M. Lilly

P.S. If you haven’t checked it out already, click the links below to learn more or buy The Troubled Man.

Paperback | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple | Google Play | Large Print

 

 

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Sneak Peek At Mystery In Progress

It's not every day you meet a man who might have murdered your sister.

You can get the first 3 Q.C. Davis mysteries in one ebook box set.

That's how the next Q.C. Davis mystery starts. This is the one where Quille looks into the murder of the sister for whom she was named: the original Q.C. Davis.

No working title yet, but I am about two-thirds through a first draft.

And I'm doing something new. Chapters in the earlier books were cleverly titled Chapter 1, Chapter 2, etc. Creative, right?

Quite a few readers told me, though, that you prefer chapter titles.

It's been fun coming up with them as I write. I'm sure many will change in the revision. And I haven't titled all the chapters yet.

But here are the titles for the first quarter of the next book:

SuspectsParents The Other GirlVictims And FriendsMrs. KevQuille Gets QuestionedThe Unwanted ChildStuckSkulkingRelatively SpeakingBrothers And CousinsMothers And TeachersThe Reverend's FamilyThe Not So Good SonThe Studio

 

Thanks for letting me share this with you! It helps me keep writing on sunny, warm days when I want to be outside.

Best,
Lisa M. Lilly

P.S. Quille starts talking with her parents and a retired chief police about her sister's murder in the previous mystery, The Hidden Man. If you haven't read it yet, click here for where to find it. (Available in paperback, ebook, and Large Print editions.)

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When The Phone Rings At Midnight

A midnight phone call rarely brings good news. This idea sparked the opening scene for one of the Q.C. Davis mysteries, The Fractured Man. But it didn’t inspire the plot.

The self-help industry did. And I say “industry” for a reason.

Because I love self-help minus the industry. Tony Robbins' book Awaken The Giant Within helped me reframe my thoughts and overcome anxiety when it was a real struggle.  Other books on happiness, productivity, and success helped me make career changes and improve my relationships.

But self-help has dark sides. I've fallen prey to one – the belief that what works for me will also fix you. (And by the way, self-help says you need to be fixed.)

Most of us do this now and then, but we catch ourselves. We realize that just because yoga is the only exercise that works for us doesn’t mean it’s the best exercise for everybody.  Any more than our prescription eyeglasses will make someone else see better.

But self-help companies can’t expand their audiences or make tons of money by admitting that. So some (not all) pressure those who join them to stop at nothing to recruit others. Unfortunately, often the message is that anyone who doesn’t see the light is no doubt miserable, failing to live up to their potential, or evil.

Pick your negative view.

And the only fix, of course, is to pay to join the movement, attend class after class, worship the guru, etc. Also, don’t forget that if you care at all about another person you absolutely owe it to them to bring them into the fold.

And so I created Seminar, a fictional self-help organization.

I drew from books, blogs, forums, and documentaries about different self-help groups and organizations. Including my fave Tony Robbins. (Check out the documentary I Am Not Your Guru if you’re curious.) I did my best to find sources that covered the pros and cons of each.

Nearly every organization or guru I looked into had helped people. Their sales techniques varied, but I took from the most intense of them to form Seminar, which provides the backdrop for The Fractured Man.

Specifically, Quille's long-lost childhood friend calls her at midnight for help. He works for Seminar, his boss is dead, and he’s the prime suspect. But his involvement in and dedication to the organization keep him from telling Quille the whole truth.

Which puts both their lives at risk.

Also key to sparking the story for The Fractured Man is the question of what we owe childhood friends we’ve outgrown. But that’s a topic for another time.

Best,

Lisa

P.S. The Fractured Man also is available in a Large Print Edition. 

As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases made through this site, but that doesn’t change the purchase price to you as the buyer.

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Chicago Knows How To Rebuild

Just after sunset from Chicago's Printers Row neighborhood.

One reason I love writing the Q.C. Davis mysteries is they highlight what I love about Chicago, where I live. The news is full of bad news about the city (but that's what news is, right?).

View from inside RPM Seafood. Quille questions a suspect there in the 5th Q.C. Davis mystery The Hidden Man.

But Chicago also is home to fantastic restaurants, striking indoor and outdoor art, and beautiful buildings.

Sometimes when I'm walking at twilight I stop and stare at the skyline and think how lucky I feel to live here.

What you may not know is that this abundance of stunning (and sometimes odd, I admit) buildings occurred because of tragedy. The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 killed 300 people and destroyed over 17,000 buildings. Nearly a third of the city was in ruins.

But talented architects flocked to the city to rebuild. Many of them—including Louis Sullivan, Daniel H. Burnham, and Dankmar Adler—stayed and designed newer and taller downtown buildings.

That theme of rebirth after devastation is one I relate to personally for a lot of reasons, as does my detective Quille C. Davis. That's another big part of why I couldn't resist Chicago as a setting for the first five mystery novels. (The sixth will mix in Edwardsville, Illinois, and St. Louis, Missouri, too.)

Chicago River Walk – the section in the city's South Loop.

I hope that post-Covid (whenever we truly get there) will see the city become the best it's ever been. Until then I'll keep revisiting my favorite spots through my fiction.

 

 

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New Release: The 5th Q.C. Davis Mystery Is Here

The Hidden Man (New Release)

He wants his father's killer found, but his secrets kept. She vows to solve the murder no matter what. Will what she doesn't know eventually kill her?

Until now, Chicago lawyer Quille C. Davis has investigated crimes, but only to help her loved ones. Now she's been hired to solve the murder of a well-known class action attorney.

The victim died with a secret. Quille suspects it relates to his fascination with UFOs, an interest he shared with his long-time girlfriend. But the truth is hard to come by, as secrets abound and no one who knew him is willing to tell her everything —  even if it means a killer goes free.

Quille is determined to solve the murder and prove she can succeed as a paid private investigator. But how can she find the truth when everyone around her strives to hide it?

And will the secrets she finally uncovers cause her – or someone she loves – to become the next victim?

Download The Hidden Man today or order the trade paperback or Large Print edition:

Kindle | Nook |Kobo | GooglePlay | Apple Books | Paperback | Large Print

As an Amazon Associate the publisher earns from qualifying purchases made through this site, but that doesn’t change the purchase price to you as the buyer.

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Fictional Detective Visits Real Chicago Restaurants

When I started the Q.C. Davis Mystery series I wasn't thinking about restaurants. But they quickly became key to the books. Why?

First, because I love dining out. Second, and more important to readers, is that sleuths need to interview a lot of people, and scenes with just questions and answers start to feel repetitive. One way to vary those types of scenes is to set them in places readers might enjoy visiting or to feature food or drinks they want to try.

Now the question readers ask me most often isn't what type of murder my female detective will solve next but which Chicago restaurants she'll go to.

And The Real Chicago Restaurants Are…

The second most-asked question I get is which restaurants are real.

So here are just a few of them. In the first novel, The Worried Man, lawyer/sleuth Quille C. Davis visits the very real restaurant Café Ba-Ba-Reeba! (Yes, the e xclamation point is in the official name.) Which also happens to be the first small plates, or tapas, restaurant I ever went to. I even tried the escargots and learned that made by the right chef (and baked with butter and garlic) snails taste fantastic.

Another real place Quille and her friends often visit is Sociale, also a small plates restaurant. It stands on the corner of Clark and Polk Streets on what was a cracked parking lot when I moved into the Printers Row neighborhood.

Sociale features great wine, wonderful outdoor spaces, and a coffeeshop attached to it that's named Café Press. The restaurant is in every Q.C. Davis Mystery novel, and one short story ends in the coffeeshop.

The Troubled Man begins and ends at a real restaurant, Niche, in the Chicago suburb of Geneva. I used a question I saw on a blackboard in the Women's Restroom there to start the novel: What's the one thing you want to do before you die?

This was pre-pandemic, and it struck me as a wonderful first line for a mystery.  Also, the food at Niche is wonderful. (Try the steak frites.)

In my new release, The Hidden Man, Quille meets a suspect (the murdered attorney's long-time girlfriend, a psychologist) at my favorite Chicago seafood restaurant, RPM Seafood. Fantastic salmon and Parker House rolls with rosemary Nordic butter. And a beautiful view of the Chicago River and River Walk. 

Quille also gets information from her Gram about the death of her sister (an old family mystery), while at Front Bar. It's a real bar attached to Steppenwolf Theatre. I discovered it right before Chicago closed restaurants and bars during the pandemic. It was (and I hope is again, though I haven't visited yet) a lovely, quiet place to have a glass of wine and catch up with a friend.

Classic Chicago Restaurants

Quille also questions witnesses in the latest book at both the bar and grille Miller's Pub and the classic diner Lou Mitchell's. Before writing The Hidden Man, I knew the restaurants had long histories in Chicago. But I didn't know both were founded by Greek families. I also learned some other interesting details.

For example, when you walk into Lou Mitchell‘s the owner or a host might hand you a small box of Milk Duds or let you choose from a basket of freshly baked donut holes. I had experienced that, but I didn't know why. It's because it's a Greek tradition: a way of welcoming female guests to a home.

Train Car Restaurants And Cheese

The Hidden Man also includes a fictional restaurant, The Train Car, that two real restaurants inspired.

The Silver Palm was inside an old dining car built for the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad.  There also was an Italian restaurant in my neighborhood, Tutto Italiano, that combined a train car with a brick building. The dining car featured tables with an elegant white tablecloth and a tiny lamp on each.

Finally, in one of the books Quille gets wine and several types of cheese at a cheese shop called Pastoral. One reader (who must love cheese as much as I do) specifically asked about that.

It was a real shop downtown near Michigan Avenue and used to have a branch with a sit down restaurant as well. Sadly, both closed. An employee there told me shortly before the end that there simply wasn't enough business to sustain either location, particularly once Whole Foods with its cheese section (which is very good) came to Chicago. And that was before any pandemic-related shutdowns.

As I write, the city is in the midst of reopening. Some restaurants I loved closed. Other new ones have opened, and I can't wait to try them. And you can be sure Quille will as well!

Haven't read the Q.C. Davis Mysteries yet? Start with the first one.

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A Sleuth Whose Superpower Is Listening

I didn’t set out to write a series featuring a sleuth who is kind. All I knew was that to write a private or amateur detective mystery, I needed a main character with special skills. Skills that could help her solve crimes where police failed. 

My first choice about Quille C. Davis, the sleuth in the Q.C. Davis Mysteries, was an easy one. I made her a lawyer because I am one and know what skills it requires.

Sleuth, Lawyer, And Former Actress

Like me, Quille appears in court and handles lawsuits. But most of her work day is spent researching, questioning witnesses or clients, and sorting through reports, photographs, data, and other evidence to put together the story of the case.

All of that struck me as great experience for a sleuth in a follow-the-clues mystery.

Unlike me, however, Quille started working at a young age. She was a child stage actress. That background told me she was self motivated. Also, many of the skills and talents she developed could also help her investigate crimes.

She is good at changing her appearance, at playing different parts, and at remembering exact lines of dialogue. Plus she learned to read and mimic people's expressions. And understand what emotions their bodies are conveying.

Those choices were deliberate. But Quille's kindness evolved as I wrote about her and got to know her.

Quille's Kindness

Some of Quille's thoughtfulness stems from her childhood. She grew up in the shadow of a sister who was kidnapped and killed before Quille was born. Her mother suffers from depression (which is finally gradually improving) sparked by her child's death, and from anxiety, and both kept her from being very present for her living daughters.

So Quille knows from experience that in the midst of anger, grief, or stress people don’t always behave at their best, but that doesn’t make them bad people.

Quille spent much of her childhood striving to gain her mother's attention. She had little success, except when she was on stage. But she had a lot of support from her grandmother, whom she calls Gram. Her heartache over her distant mother makes her all the more grateful for Gram. And it gives her a lot of empathy for people who don't have anyone like that in their lives.

In short, Quille is more aware than most people how complicated life and relationships can be. And she knows how hard it is to feel unheard or ignored and how much it means to have somebody genuinely listen to you.

Listening And Sleuthing

Because of that experience, when she talks with anyone, Quille listens to what they say. Not only to the words, but to the reasons they choose the words they do, their body language, and their expressions. She gives them time and space to keep talking. And Quille responds to their words and feelings, following up with questions that spring from what she heard rather than racing on to her next planned question or throwing in her own views before the person finishes.

In other words, she hears what others say rather than simply waiting for her turn to talk. And when she can do so honestly, which is often, Quille expresses empathy, including for people whose perspectives are far different from her own.

All of this means that the people she questions feel heard and understood. Which makes them more apt to share information with her even when they’d rather keep certain things private. And even when sharing might get them into trouble.

Solving The Murders

So in the end, though it was the least deliberate choice I made, Quille's kindness and her listening skills turned out to be what most often helps her solve cases.

And that is a big part of why I love to write book after book about her and the mysteries she unravels. In the chaotic world we live in, I personally think, mysteries or not, we can use more people like Quille.

The next Q.C. Davis mystery, The Hidden Man, will release in October, 2021. Get notice of the new release and a free Q.C. Davis mystery novella here.

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Who Killed The Basketball Coach?

No Good Plays (A Q.C. Davis Mystery Novella)

His son's basketball coach is dead. She agrees to investigate. But is it worth her life?

After solving a crime but losing a friend, Chicago lawyer Quille C. Davis’ plans for the summer are to have fun, catch up on her law practice, and enjoy time on her boyfriend’s boat.

Then Detective Sergeant Beckwell, who helped Quille investigate the death of someone close to her, calls in a big favor. His son’s high school basketball coach is dead, and he’s afraid his son is somehow involved.

Beckwell has it all planned.

His ex-wife is on the board of the Catholic high school his son attends. Quille, drawing on her child stage actress experience, can volunteer in the summer drama program. From there, he expects Quille to wheedle her way into the school’s life, figure out what happened to the coach, and, more important, what his son knows about it.

Quille fears Beckwell will expect her to cover up what she finds. But she feels for Beckwell, whose son has gone from confident, happy high school basketball star to a sullen, angry teenager who may want to quit playing altogether.

She agrees to investigate, and Beckwell promises not to interfere no matter what she learns.

But is it a promise he can keep? And can Quille find the killer before she becomes the next victim?

No Good Plays is a novella in the Q.C. Davis Mystery series, but it stands alone. If you enjoy quick-witted amateur sleuths, unraveling the clues, and life-and-death stakes, you’ll love this novella.

Buy No Good Plays today to discover the truth.

Paperback | Kindle | Kobo | Google Play | Apple Books | Nook

Or read a digital edition of No Good Plays free by joining the author's email list.

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Sneak Peek at The Troubled Man (A Q.C. Davis Mystery)

Chapter One 

What’s the one thing you want to do before you die?

That question was printed in neon green chalk at the top of a blackboard hanging just inside Niche’s Women’s Room. I hadn’t noticed it when I walked in, but now I studied the chalkboard as I washed my hands. Ten numbered white chalk lines underneath provided spaces for restaurant patrons to write answers. It was early in the evening, and only one diner had filled in an answer. She wanted to visit the Galapagos Islands.

Despite all the death around me since before I was born, it was a question I never thought about.

“Take a trip to Paris?” Ty said when I rejoined him at our small, square table and told him about it.

“Maybe next summer,” I said.

“Or you could set a goal of dodging better in your training sessions.” He grinned at me.

“You noticed.” My hand rose to my jawline. I had layered on extra foundation and carefully styled my long hair into waves to cover the bruising. Early in the summer I started training with a retired police academy instructor. A City of Chicago detective who owed me a favor had referred me to him to help me learn to better defend myself and avoid danger. “First day we finally get to fighting. I was supposed to be ducking. Obviously, I’m not a natural.”

Ty sipped the last of his wine. “The heavy makeup layer gave it away. Not exactly your usual look. Other than in those old publicity shots your Gram showed me.”

I was a stage actress as a child and teenager. Spending so much time in makeup and costumes, and being stared at, left me leaning toward a fairly simple look in real life. I use enough foundation to even my olive skin tone. If I’m going to court – now I’m a lawyer – or out for an evening I add some mascara and lip gloss and I’m done.

“I thought maybe the dress would distract you.”

I wore a bright red sundress with spaghetti straps, perfect for the heat that day. Most of my clothes double for work and going out, but this did not.

“Oh, it’s definitely distracting. Which I appreciate.”

“You think Eric will notice the bruise?” I said.

Without asking any questions, Ty had agreed to drive forty-five minutes west of downtown Chicago for dinner so I could meet Eric Ruggirello afterwards. Eric was the son of a man I had been involved with two years before. That man’s death led to my meeting the police detective who later suggested some defense training for me. And it led to a friendship with Eric.

“Probably not,” Ty said. “He didn’t say what he wanted to talk to you about?”

“He’s fourteen. He didn’t say. He texted. But he did give me a little background.” My phone showed seven-twenty-five. “We should go.”

Ty slid his chair back. “I just hope it’s not about another murder.”

“Well –” I said.

* * *

It’s a far west suburb of Chicago, but Geneva looks more like one of those quaint antique towns that tourists frequent. Not unlike Lake Geneva in Wisconsin, which people sometimes confuse it with if they don’t live in the area. Geneva draws people from all over the Chicago area for its seasonal festivals, and during the winter holidays you feel like you’re walking through a festive snow globe.

Small restaurants and boutiques with specialty items like candles, gourmet olive oil, or unique jewelry line its downtown streets.

It also has plenty of free parking, another wonder of suburbia. Ty had easily found a spot on the street midway between the restaurant and the chocolate bar where we planned to meet Eric.

During our short walk, I told Ty that Eric had a friend whose mother died a month ago, at the end of July. Today, her dad had been arrested.

“That’s why she’s staying out here. With her aunt and uncle,” I said.

“So she needs a defense attorney.”

“Probably. But I already offered a referral. Eric asked if he could talk to me in person.”

I handle only civil matters. Which means money is at stake, not anyone’s liberty or life. But I share office space with a criminal defense attorney. Eric had met Danielle once or twice and already knew I thought highly of her skills. So it must be something more.

Eric sat at a table near the windows, not far from a five-foot-tall dark chocolate sculpture of a peacock. A girl who must be his friend Alexis sat opposite him, her spine flattened against the back of the booth. He hadn’t told me she would be with him.

Her blue-streaked blond hair had been gelled and sculpted to stand straight up from her head. Her eyebrows slashed dark lines over her eyes. Like me, she had olive-tinged skin. Tonight, the areas under her eyes looked almost bruised. Some of her makeup foundation had worn away, showing a rash of acne on her left cheek.

Eric stood when he saw us. It used to make my heart hurt when I saw him. He looks so much like a slimmer teenaged version of his dad. But it had been long enough since Marco’s death that now Eric reminded me more of happy memories.

He looked taller than when I last saw him, though it had only been a month ago. And his dark curly hair, so much like his dad’s, looked shorter, with no flyaway ends. A few curls hung over his forehead.

He hugged me and introduced Alexis. I adjusted the spaghetti straps of my red sundress, which had slipped partway down my shoulders during the hug, wishing I’d opted for my usual way of dressing. I favor neutrals and clothes that I can mix and match for business or going out. The red dress didn’t feel appropriate to talk to a girl in Alexis’ circumstances. I told myself she likely didn’t care.

Eric and Ty shook hands.

Ty left to get us drinks. Eric slid into the booth next to Alexis, and I sat across from them.

“I’m so sorry to hear about your mom’s death,” I said to Alexis. “And now about your dad.”

“It’s just –” She clutched a half-full mug of some sort of frothy drink and stared down into it. “When my uncle picked me up from school today, I kept telling him he had to do something, but he won’t. He won’t do anything.”

“Is there something specific you want him to do?” I said.

“Tell them. The police. Tell them they’re wrong.” She inhaled through her mouth, a sharp, quick breath that made her chest heave. “Stupid, right? It’s not like it would change their minds.”

“Probably not. Did he say why the police focused on your dad?” I said.

“Just they always think the spouse did it.” Alexis fixed her eyes on me. “Is that true? Eric said you know about criminal stuff.”

In the two years of sharing space with Danielle, I picked up a lot. She once told me that fifty-five percent of the time if a woman is murdered, her husband or boyfriend did it. A statistic that wouldn’t make Alexis feel any better.

“The police typically look first at a spouse,” I said. “But to make an arrest, there must be more than that.”

Eric pushed aside his milkshake. “They’re saying it was poison. That Ivy – that’s Alexis’ mom – was poisoned.”

Ty slipped into the booth next to me with two glasses of ice water plus a root beer for him and a dark hot cocoa for me. I love hot cocoa no matter the weather, and I love that he doesn’t find that weird.

“And is that what the police told you right away?” I said.

Alexis shook her head. “No. Everyone thought complications from stomach flu or something. My mom had a lot of digestive problems.”

Not everyone or there wouldn’t have been an investigation. “So what changed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Seems like not many people die from stomach flu,” Ty said.

Alexis cleared her throat. “Yeah, probably not. But my mom has – had – a weak stomach. So we all kind of thought it was something like that.”

I supposed some type of digestive issues could be fatal, but it sounded to me more like something a detective might have mentioned to give everyone involved the false impression that murder wasn’t suspected. 

Eric hit a few keys on his phone. “Do you know this lawyer? Is he any good?” He passed the phone across the table to me. It was open to a solo lawyer’s law firm website.

“My uncle recommended him,” Alexis said.

“I don’t.” The name was unfamiliar to me, but that didn’t mean anything. Through Danielle I knew some of the Chicago area defense attorneys’ names, but definitely not all of them. I scrolled through the single-page website. “Wrongful death, contract cases, criminal defense. I can’t tell how much of the practice is criminal.”

“I compared it to Danielle’s,” Eric said. “Hers is all criminal defense info. And she has all these links to news articles about her trials.”

I sipped the hot chocolate. Not bad, but still a bit too sweet for me. I like bitter dark.

“Well, you know Danielle’s who I’d choose if I were ever in trouble. But this attorney might just not be very good at creating a website.”

I fired off a text to Danielle asking about the attorney.

She was a prosecutor before she became a defense attorney, and a cop before that – one of the first Black women on the force. She knew most lawyers who practiced criminal law in Chicago. At least she did if they appeared in court very much.

“My uncle says any private lawyer’s better than a public defender,” Alexis said.

I felt unsure how much information to provide if it might unsettle her more. But I always tried to be up front with Eric. I doubted he would have contacted me if he wanted someone to sugarcoat things. Though it wasn’t clear yet what exactly he wanted me to do here.

“That’s not always so,” I said. “I’m a private attorney. You could hire me to represent your dad, but it would be a bad idea. My eight years of practice have all been civil.” Alexis looked at me blankly. “Cases about money. A first-year public defender knows more than I do about criminal procedure. And an experienced one knows all about sentencing and which judges are more likely to grant certain types of motions. And what sorts of things a jury might think about.”

Danielle had horror stories about clients who came to her after a friend who was a real estate attorney or corporate lawyer represented them. Or one who handled minor criminal matters but had never tried a case and got hired to defend a murder charge. Unfortunately, most of the bad advice couldn’t be fixed after the fact.

Alexis squared her shoulders. “But Eric told me you investigated crimes before. Like his dad’s death.”

“And for your friend Caleb,” Eric said. “And that other time.”

“That didn’t turn out so well for Caleb,” I said. “I think he ended up being sorry he got me involved.”

“He nearly got killed,” Ty said. “And so did Quille.”

I shot him a look. When talking with Eric I downplayed any close calls I had. He’d already lost his dad. He didn’t need to worry about something happening to another adult in his life.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Eric said.

“Ty’s exaggerating,” I said.

Eric’s eyebrows rose.

“Okay, not by much. Which is why I’m doing that training I told you about. So I can protect myself better.”

Eric slouched. “Now I feel like I shouldn’t have asked you to come here.”

“Because?” I said, though I had a guess as to what might be coming. Eric wouldn’t have asked me to meet in person just for background on a defense lawyer.

Alexis and Eric glanced at each other. She spoke. “We want you to help us figure out who really killed my mom.”

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