Belinda had acted nonchalantly when she found him waiting in her kitchen.
“You must be Webster. I heard my jealous ex-husband hired you.”
“Yeah, your affair with that traffic cop jeopardized Salvatore’s waterfront drug shipments.”
Webster shot Belinda twice.
He stepped over her dead body and opened the refrigerator. The fresh pie on the top shelf had a light crust packed with tiny red huckleberries, and its sweet taste hinted of lemon. He ate three huge slices.
Later, when the kidney pain, vomiting and blurred vision hit, Webster wondered about Belinda’s huckleberry pie recipe.