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“Could be. In any event, my thanks to you and your friends. While I think we would have figured it out, your help made my job a lot easier.”
“You’re welcome.”
“After this, I have to ask that you stay in Kennebunkport for the next day or two.”
“Am I a suspect?” Jessica asked, not overly surprised.
“Not a strong one,” admitted the detective. “But someone with the event said there was bad blood between you and the victim.”
“We weren’t friends, and I certainly didn’t want to kill her, but I’m happy to remain here until you give me the all clear.”
“Thank you for that, and again for your help with the numbers.”
“Happy to help.”
“I’d ask that you and your friends keep this strictly confidential and to take a step back,” said Detective Wilder.
“Wow. Talk about ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am.’ You’d have been days, if not weeks, figuring out those numbers.”
“But we would have figured them out, and you should never have had them. I’m willing to overlook your interference in this case thus far…”
“I’m hanging up now, Detective. Have a nice day.” She ended the call. “Jerk. We hand him the fucking evidence, and he shakes his finger at us.”
“Can I take it from your side of the conversation that you’re a suspect?” asked Christie.
“Are they nuts?” cried Lori.
“That’s bullshit,” said Fiona.
“No. I’m not overly surprised. ‘Someone’ told them there was bad blood between us.”
“Let me guess, ‘someone’ was Stella?” asked Christie sarcastically. “That officious little bitch.”
Stella had been part of the event staff who’d thrown her weight around whenever and wherever she could to make herself feel more important. While some feared her and her ability to retaliate in many ways, no one was impressed with her or what she brought to the table.
“That would be my guess, but it doesn’t matter. I have an alibi. I was with you guys, but the police have to check it out.”
“Anyone have a guess as to who the killer could be or the motive?” said Lori.
“Murder usually boils down to one of two things: love or money,” said Christie. “Usually, it's some kind of perversion thereof, but in the end, love or money.”
“But why only the one file?” asked Fiona.
“I was wondering about that too,” said Lori.
“That can’t be all of the pirate site’s books…” started Christie.
“No, but if you’re going to blackmail the owner that you know who he or she is and what they’re doing, it could be a sample of what she had,” concluded Jessica.
Christie nodded. “That makes sense, which also leads me to wonder if the pirate site owner isn’t an author or someone else Sandy knew would be attending.” Christie let that sink in. “And ladies, this is the point where I agree with Detective Wilder. If the killer is still here, exposing what we know could endanger all of us.”
“I agree,” said Fiona; “unless Wilder decides it is Jessica, then we become a pain in his very sexy ass.”
They finished their food, had dessert on the balcony and enjoyed getting to know one another. There was nothing left to do but set the date for the first meeting of the Mystery Writers’ Murder Club and say good night. Jessica had walked them to the elevator and headed back into her hotel room.
The following morning, the hotel phone was ringing as she got out of the shower.
“Jessica Murdoch.”
