AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jane and Conrad joined Deputy Poteet in the space between the living room and kitchen, where the body slumped over the table.
“Tell me,” Conrad commanded.
“There’s a small envelope in his hand,” the woman replied in a bleak tone. Danielle Poteet was new to Aurelian Hills, not just the force. She’d replaced the recently passed Joshua Gunn. From Atlanta, she’d left the big city looking for a change in pace and an opportunity to work with a former GBH agent. “We haven’t removed it yet. Chapter two of Grave Actually is resting under his elbow.”
Conrad scowled. “The judge is giving me fits about a warrant to read the club members’ manuscripts, but maybe this will change his mind.”
Jane listened to the conversation while examining the scene. No obvious sign of struggle. Jacob either had no fear of his killer or he’d never suspected his home had been invaded until it was too late. A bloody wrench rested on the table near a stack of manuscript papers.
First a candlestick, now a wrench? What, was the killer playing a game of Clue too? And was that creative or cheating? Should she use it for her book’s ending?
Poor Jacob Thacker. Either a partner—or partners—had turned on him, or he’d been innocent all along.
Would the mayor sacrifice his eldest son to save himself?
Conrad blanked his expression as he and Deputy Poteet drew closer to the body. With an abundance of caution, he explained to the deputy what he was looking at and doing, teaching her on the job. He pried the manuscript chapter from beneath Jacob’s elbow and scanned the pages. “Definitely written by the same author.” He passed the papers to another investigator.
So. The killer was truly writing a book. Or had already written it, but now opted to share a chapter per murder. Was he attempting to make a name for himself? Or hoping to increase sales? Her stomach pitched. Just how many chapters were in this book anyway?
Jane envisioned a bloodbath in her small town and shuddered.
Deputy Poteet used the same cautious technique to withdraw the small purple envelope from Jacob’s hand.
Purple for murder scenes, and red for game moves?
Anger, frustration and perhaps even fear pulsed from Conrad when the deputy drew his attention to something on the envelope. He ran his tongue over his straight, white teeth.
Curiosity squeezed Jane’s chest. “What?” she demanded.
A muscle jumped beneath his eye as he nodded to the deputy, and she showed Jane the name on its front. Well, well. J A N E spelled out in magazine letters.
Before anyone realized what was happening, the deputy withdrew and unfolded the paper inside. Conrad snapped “Don’t–” and reached for her wrist to stop her, but it was too late. A glittery white cloud sprayed from the card, exactly as glitter had sprayed from the card found in Jane’s hearse.
Both Conrad and the deputy coughed. The card fell to the floor and remained open, revealing a message.
Meow. Or better yet, meouch! Catch me if you can.
Hmm. As far as taunts went, it wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t great either, which pointed straight to Abigail and her book. Again. Maybe if Jane wrote a comprehensive paper explaining how important it was to sample the rest of Abigail's work, Judge Bowman would finally agree to that warrant?
Her fiancé’s coughing continued, his breathing growing more strained, worrying her. Same with the deputy. Jane stepped toward Conrad, intending to help, but he grabbed the other woman and forced her to back up with him, shaking his head.
“Something’s wrong with us,” he croaked. Color drained from his skin, leaving him ashen. Then the deputy collapsed. Conrad caught her but wobbled on his feet. “Poison maybe.”
What! Everyone around them went still. The killer had poisoned them? A crime Beau and Trick had tried to warn her about!
Had the killer overheard them? No, impossible. Security cameras would have detected someone planting a bug.
Stomach lurching, Jane dove for Conrad just before his knees buckled. She caught him and the deputy, and their threesome fell together. On impact, Jane cushioned him and he cushioned the deputy. Jane didn’t care if she inhaled the powder, too. Anything to help him.
Someone shouted, “Call 911 and get out of the house! Now, now, now!”
Panic swarmed Jane, and she lost sight of reality. Her focus remained on the love of her life. He’d passed out, his eyes closed, his body lax. She checked for a pulse. A cry parted her lips. The too slow beats were barely discernible. What in the world worked this quickly, this way?
Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them back. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. “You wake up and recover, Conrad Ryan. I mean it. You’re in serious danger of losing your casserole privileges forever.”
He didn’t respond. Nor did Deputy Poteet.
The curse laughed, whispering, Told you.
