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“Where’d you go?”
“I told you, I’m trying to treat this week as if I’d traveled to some foreign land, but when I woke up I realized if I hurried I could go down to the Catch and have a muffin and coffee that would put hair on a bald man’s head and watch the fishermen heading out.”
DeeDee nodded knowingly. “I do that sometimes myself. There’s something peaceful…”
“Peaceful and romantic, although my guess is those who are doing the actual fishing find it neither. Are you sure Thompson is dead?”
“I was pretty sure when I saw him. I couldn’t see him breathing. I called his name and there was no response. I called for you, too. I decided calling the cops was what I needed to do.”
“I think you’re probably right about that. Go on and do what you have to do. I’m fine. I’ll just sit here in the corner by the fireplace.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“No problem,” she said, putting her hand on DeeDee’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Watching her walk away, Jessica couldn’t help but wonder if Detective Wilder would be working on the case. She hoped so, as he’d handled Sandy Parkinson’s murder as a consummate professional even when he’d been vexed with her and the rest of the Mystery Writers’ Murder Club.
Jessica continued to watch as the morning and the investigation began to unfold. DeeDee had ushered everyone into the dining room for breakfast. The cops wanted everyone kept in the same room and under their watchful eye until the major crimes unit arrived and they had a chance to search their rooms. At first, they wanted them confined to the lobby, but DeeDee had drawn a virtual line in the sand, stomped her foot and gotten her way. She was not about to allow her guests to be uncomfortable.
At mid-morning, she heard a chopper overhead and then watched as it landed in one of the public parking lots. By the time he entered the lobby from the back, she’d seen him walk outside to her room and had recognized him, even before seeing his face. Detective Thorn Wilder appeared to be in charge of the investigation.
She could feel her pulse beginning to race and felt all gooey inside, which was ridiculous as although he’d been kind in Kennebunkport, he’d certainly given her no indication he had the slightest interest in her. After all, he was a cop, and she wasn’t that hard to find. If he had been interested, he could have contacted her any time.
When he finally entered the lobby, Jessica had thought about going up to him and at least saying hello. She was a bit perplexed by the almost imperceivable shake of his head. Feeling a bit hurt, and chiding herself for it, she stepped back, sinking into the shadowed chair by the fireplace.
Wilder took DeeDee back to her office and Jessica rolled her eyes. Surely, he didn’t think DeeDee had anything to do with it, did he? Jessica rose from the chair and started to head outside, and perhaps just casually walk by her room, but was prevented from doing so when a young officer who looked to be about thirteen politely requested that she stay in the lobby area. So much for that idea.
She toyed with the idea of texting the rest of the members of the Mystery Writers’ Murder Club but decided she’d best call Sudie first. If she heard about the murder, her vivid imagination would have Jessica as the victim in a Stephen King-style gruesome and gory death. After assuring Sudie it was really her and that she was all right, she was just about to text the girls, when a large, sexy hand she knew better than she ought to and about which she’d had the most gloriously dirty fantasies, reached over her shoulder and plucked the cell phone from her hand.
“I should have known. I should have told them to make sure you were kept separate from all electrical communication devices,” he scolded.
The man had a way of asserting his authority in a manner that made her go weak in the knees as arousal surged through her system.
“I think that’s illegal,” she returned.
“Sue me. Officer? Please see that Ms. Murdoch is not allowed to reach out to anyone on any kind of communication device.”
“Can we do that?” the officer squeaked.
“If we can’t, it falls on me. I will ensure everyone knows I was the mean bastard that wouldn’t let her summon her troops so the Valkyries could ride.”
“You’re mixing your metaphors, Detective. Besides, the Valkyries only came for the dead and then only for those who were honorable and worthy. I think you’ll find Gregory Thompson was neither.”
“Which leads me to ask you to accompany me to Ms. Hicks’ office. She has graciously offered to let me use it to speak to guests.” He stepped back and gestured toward the front desk. “This way, Ms. Murdoch.”
Jessica knew the way and headed toward DeeDee’s private office. She went over to the window seat, leaning her back against the side so she could see him and drawing her feet up onto the comfortable cushion. “So Detective, we meet again.”
“Should I be concerned that the last two homicides I’ve worked, you’ve had some connection to?”
“I was never connected other than by a shared profession to Sandy, and I could barely tolerate Gregory Thompson.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he was an odious little toad.”
“Was he?”
“Yes, and if you’ve talked to any other female who ever had the displeasure of meeting him—his wife and ex-mistress included—you’ll find that I’m not alone in my opinion.”
