"And she was definitely the biggest clown in it." Dee slid into the empty chair next to me, giving me a wide smile. "What's shakin' in Seneca Meadows? Besides murder," she added, her eyes twinkling. "I tell you what: when folks comment on the crime rate here in the city, I want to point out that some of the smaller towns—not to name any names—get as much or more."
"A slight exaggeration, sis, but we get your point." Devin smiled at her younger sibling. "I've got an idea, girls. I don't have any more appointments today, and I don't think that Dee or Des do either."
"Nope," said Delight. "That was the last call I needed to make. " Des?"
"I'm good to go as well. What's your idea?" This was directed at Devin as she sat with her fingers steepled together, a slight frown on her face.
"Why don't we five put our heads together and see if we can get some answers for the good men and women of the Seneca Meadows Police Department. After all," she said with a grin, "we do tend to see quite a bit of crime here as well, even if it is fiction."
"Oh, I get it," exclaimed Desiree, an animated expression on her face. "We can compare the details to the books we know and see what matches up."
"Well, that's not exactly what I had in mind, sis, but we can start with that." Devin turned to look at me, a questioning expression on her face. "Whaddya think, Caro?"
"I think that there's nothing new under the sun, as a very wise man once put it. I'll bet we can get an idea or two from your shelf." I nodded toward the back of the office where a veritable library had been set up.
"You mean that there's already a book written about it?" Dee's forehead was puckered as she turned this idea over in her mind. "Like, in order to figure out who the killer is for your murders, all we need to do is find a story line that matches?"
I nodded, noting the range of expressions on the faces of the other three. "I'd say that this makes sense. Wouldn't you?" I looked at each of them in turn.
Finally, Merry gave a deep sigh and spoke. "Let me get this straight, Caro. And sorry, Dee, if I'm repeating what you said but I want to make sure that I'm following Caro: we find a matching plot, we find the Seneca Meadows killer."
Again I nodded in the affirmative.
"Well, ladies," drawled Devin, "it looks like our work is cut out for us." She turned to gesture at the rows of paperbacks lining the back wall of the agency. "Shall we divide by author's last name or genre?"
"First we need to decide what type we'll consider," I objected. "I wouldn't think this would fall under thriller or suspense, but that's just my opinion."
"I agree," Merry spoke up. "This practically screams cozy mystery or police procedural."
Dev looked from me to Merry, slowly nodding. "All right. Let's begin with those types. Desiree, could you run a list of our authors whose books fall into those two categories?" She glanced at Delight. "And Dee, I think we're gonna need a pot of coffee and something to fortify us while we search. Don't we have an unopened box of those almond cookies in the kitchen?"
Dee nodded. "Sure do, sis. And I'll make coffee plus plug in that electric kettle we have in case someone wants hot tea instead."
"Sounds fab," Devin said, smiling at both her sisters. Turning to me, she added, "Maybe you and Merry could take a look at the books we have and see if anything catches your eye."
I nodded, standing up and massaging my lower back. "I love that Mini, Merry, I really do, but those seats are rough on the body for long trips."
"Well, you feel free to drive next time," she said with a sniff.
I laughed and reached over to pat her arm. "Trust me, I appreciate that you drove. I just think that my, uh, nether regions could afford to share some padding with my back." I gave said nether regions a little wiggle and headed for the crammed bookshelves.
From a very young age, particularly when I was educating myself in what I thought to be the proper manner of dealing with others, I fairly lived at my local library. Our town—a village, really—had a mobile library that came through on a weekly basis, but I read through all of the relevant books in a short period of time. This then required that I seek out a larger deposit of books, which in turn led me to the Kent Library and History Centre, a veritable fairy land of any and everything I could ever desire to read.
Those memories and more crowded into my mind as I stood in front of the Cotton Literary Agency's collection of books. As a writer myself, I had access to the "advance-reader copies" of fellow writers, an honor that always made me feel like someone privy to the great secrets of the universe. Running my gaze over the various titles now, I sincerely hoped that this universe would help us uncover the plot that would lead us to an answer.
"Quite the collection, right?" Merry stood at my shoulder, her gaze fastened on the rows of paperbacks represented by Devin and her sisters. "I honestly had no idea that they had this many writers I recognize in their clientele.
I nodded, leaning forward to run a finger down a few of the titles. "They should be quite proud of their work, that's certain. Take, for instance, the Fashion Show series. That's all Devin." I plucked a fat book from its place on the shelf. "And here's One Tough Broad by Lee Ann Wright. She won the Agatha Award two years ago at the Malice Domestic conference."
"Caro, do you really think that we'll find our answer here?" Merry nodded at the bookshelves and looked at me, a sober expression on her face. "I honestly can't believe it'll be that easy. I mean, look at all the stuff that Scotty goes through." A slight blush appeared on her cheeks. "Not to mention Detective Leonides. I have to admit that even he seems to work his fashionably clothed tail off."
I chuckled. "How did those words taste, Merry?"
"Bitter, trust me," she said with a wry smile. "But true. He really does do his best."
I nodded. "And I agree. He's what most would refer to as the 'real deal,' not a fictional cop."
"So why, Caro, do you think we'll find our answer here in a fictional world?"
I shrugged. "I don't know, Merry. I just have, I don't know, a feeling."
"Oh, great," she laughed. "My best bud is turning psychic on me."
"As long as she isn't turning psycho, we're okay."
Merry and I both turned around to see Desiree standing there, a broad grin on her face.
"Right on, girlfriend." Merry slapped a high five with Des.
I rolled my eyes. I should have been quite used to humor at my expense after years of being Mrs. Browning.
"Sorry, Caro. I couldn't resist." Desiree's sweet smile took the sting from her previous words and reached over to hug me "No offense?"
"No offense taken." I turned back to the books, motioning with one hand at the neat rows. "Where would you begin, Des, if I asked you to choose?"
"Oh, that's easy," she replied promptly. "I'd look at the books by Marie Cutler." She stepped closer to the shelves and slipped three books from a row near the bottom of the shelf. "She's all about murders based on jealousy and one-upmanship, if you know what I mean."
I nodded in approval. "That sounds fine. Here, let me see those." I held out both hands for the paperback books. "They certainly have a fabulous design." I held the books up for Merry to see, and she nodded in agreement. "I know we should never judge a book by its cover, but…"
Merry nodded at me, a grin on her face. "I hear you, Caro, but I know what you mean. These almost look like they'd have the prefect murder plot, don't they?"
We examined the covers of the three books. One, entitled Dressed for Death, featured a stylistic drawing of a young woman lying on what seemed to be a fashion catwalk, her long hair spread out behind and one hand across her face. I shuddered, recalling how Viviana Drake had appeared when we'd found her, dead on the floor of her store.
"A little too close to reality for comfort, in my opinion," Merry muttered. She shook her head, backing away from me. "I have to admit that I thought your idea was crazy, Caro, but looking at these covers, I think you're on to something."
"Of course I am," I said, narrowing my ey
es. "After all, I'm one of the Cotton Literary Agency's clients par excellence. I should know if my fellow writers can write a good plot or not."
"Coffee's ready," called Dee from the hallway. "Come and get it, gals."
Armed with steaming mugs of coffee or tea—my mug said "Don't irritate the writer: she may kill you in the next book"—and a plate of cookies, the five of us headed to the back of the office.
"If you don't mind, Dev, I think I'll grab a few books and then sit down on the floor." I looked at my agent, one eyebrow lifted in query, my coffee mug in hand.
She nodded. "Absolutely. Feel free to sit wherever you'd like." Looking at the others gathered around, she added, "Let's get settled first before choosing a book, okay?"
It had the feel of an indoor picnic, an almost festive air in spite of the underlying goal of finding a killer. Between quips about creaking joints and comments concerning age, the five of us settled onto the floor, each with a stack of books and coffee or tea nearby.
Soon we were all deep into our respective books. I'd decided on a course of action: skim through the first and last chapters, read the blurb on the back of the book, and decide if the story line was anything close to what had happened in Seneca Meadows. If it had nothing to do with a) a small town gathering or b) the demise of a local beauty, I tended to discard the book.
We'd been at this exercise in futility for nearly an hour when Merry threw down the book she was holding.
"I just don't think this is gonna work, Caro, sorry. I mean, it's a great plan, especially since we didn't have one to begin with, but…" She looked around at us, an apologetic smile on her face.
"No worries, Merry. As you said, it was a good plan when nothing else was working." I smiled reassuringly at her, then turned to face Devin.
"Dev, thanks for letting us invade your—"
Dee began to point at her book, an excited expression on her face.
"I've got it, girls—page one hundred twelve of Revenge is Sweet, one of those Beautiful Bakery mysteries by Abbie Scott." She jumped up, waving the book at us. "Dev, don't we have a few more copies somewhere so all of us can see it?"
Devin nodded, rising to her feet as well, albeit with a bit more dignity. "Yes, I think we've still got a few ARCs somewhere. Dee, stop bending the spine on that book. You know how Dad felt about that."
"No kidding. He acted like these things were pure gold." Dee waved the paperback around some more.
"Actually, they kinda are, sis, considering these are how we make our money," Desiree's soft voice broke in, making the rest of us smile. She was typically the peacemaker of the bunch, the quintessential younger child who wanted everyone to get along.
"So, hurry up already," Merry said, and I had to agree. If Dee had found an answer, or at least a template for murder, I wanted to see it and fast.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"All right now, Delight. What page did you say?"
The five of us each had an ARC, ready to take a look at what would hopefully be the clue in solving the murders.
"Page one hundred twelve." Dee looked around at the rest of us, her eyes bright with anticipation. "How about this: we write down the names of the characters in the book and then compare them to the real-life versions?"
I nodded. "That seems logical. Devin, can I get paper from your desk?"
"Absolutely. And there's a pen lying right by my laptop. Grab that as well, Caro." She waited for me to sit back down before adding, "And since you and Merry are the ones with the information concerning the main players, shall we say, you can start."
I looked at Merry and nodded. "Merry, since you were in charge of all things related to the festival and the book signing, I'll let you describe the people."
"Sounds good. Okay, here goes. First, we have Viviana Drake. She was the owner of the local secondhand store and had expressed interest in playing the 'corpse' in our murder mystery activity that was to coincide with Sarah Lawson's book signing and the fall festival. The idea was that each booth would have one clue about the murder, ending with finding the 'corpse' and the answer."
"So would you say that Viviana was a ready-made victim?" As if realizing that her question could be construed as rude and unfeeling, Desiree quickly added, "I mean, was she the type of person in real life that would always fall for scams and the like?"
I shook my head vehemently. "Absolutely not. Viv was nothing if not overly cautious. And I don't believe that she would have wanted to play a dead body if she knew the chances of really ending up that way."
"Well, I sincerely doubt anyone would, Caro," Merry objected.
"You know what I mean, Merry. Viv was just too—too much on the periphery of things to ever get caught up in schemes. She was certainly street smart."
"Would you agree, Merry?" Devin asked, one eyebrow lifted in question.
"Oh, without a doubt, Dev," Merry said. "And then there's Victoria, just a kid really, who was willing to take Viv's place."
"And she nearly gave me heart failure," I added. "I found her sprawled out on the sidewalk near my booth, practicing looking dead."
The five of us sat silently for a moment, thinking about the dreadful, final irony of the situation. Finally, Dee sighed and spoke, motioning to the ARC.
"Well, there are two victims in here, so that's like the two in Seneca Meadows, right?" When we all nodded, she continued. "This entire book revolves around a reality TV show called Better Bakers Bake-off. A contestant is killed before the taping even gets started, and her replacement is bumped off as well. The protagonist in the book, a bakery owner in a small town, is also an amateur sleuth, and she determines she's gonna solve the crimes. She finds out that two of the other contestants on this show are fighting over the same man—the producer—and she thinks that the killer is the more timid of the two, the one who everyone thinks is so sweet."
"So, would that be Sarah Lawson or Lisa Caldwell?"
"Actually, neither one."
"Hold up, Dee. I'm a bit confused," Devin said, holding up one hand. "Are you saying that Sarah and Lisa are not the characters or not the killer?"
"Not the killer," Dee said impatiently. "Keep up, sis." She looked at the rest of us, a grin on her face. "I found the killer on page one hundred twelve, only it's not obvious until later."
"Spill it, girlfriend." Merry gestured toward the book. "Who dunnit?"
"It was the assistant to the more aggressive of the two contestants, the ones fighting over the producer. She was apparently in thrall to her boss and wanted her to be the one to get the man, so to speak, and she took the initiative to remove any other distraction. Voila: two murders, one crazy person who kills."
I held up my hand. "I need some clarification, Dee. So far I have Viv and Victoria, our two corpses, as the two dead contestants. Am I right so far?"
She nodded. "That's the way I see it."
"And so Sarah and Lisa are the two other contestants fighting over the producer, who I assume is Sam?"
Another nod.
I turned to Merry. "So that would make Lisa's personal assistant the killer? If Sarah and Lisa are really fighting over Sam," I added.
She shrugged. "If the theory is holds, I suppose that's right."
"Have you guys met her? Or him?" Devin asked, looking from me to Merry.
"Him," we chorused, then laughed, breaking the growing tension.
"We haven't met him yet," I added. "We did meet Sarah's PA when she dropped by the bookstore to pick up a few things." I left out the fact that she'd come to get the books that Merry didn't want to carry any longer. I didn't think that was anything the ladies of the Cotton Literary Agency needed to know.
"We still haven't figured out where Zayne was during the killings, Caro," Merry pointed out.
I nodded. "True. I'd meant to make that phone call after getting his number from Lisa, but I completely forgot about it. I'll do that on the way home."
"While you're sitting in that uncomfortable passenger seat, I take it," Merry said w
ith a grin. "Hope you can handle it, Caro."
This was when I stuck out my tongue at my best friend.
* * *
"Do you think we've actually solved the crimes, Caro?"
Merry glanced sideways at me and then back at the road. We'd left the Cotton sisters shortly after a rather heated discussion of fictional versus real characters, assuring the three of them that I'd certainly be in contact with them soon.
I shrugged, reaching for the to-go cup filled with coffee that Desiree had so thoughtfully provided. "Maybe."
"Well, I guess we'll know more after we talk to Lisa's assistant."
"That's the idea," I agreed.
"So, are you gonna make that call or not?"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist," I said teasingly, reaching in my bag for my cell phone. "I'll call the boy, okay? It's just that I'm so comfortable I can't make myself do anything except sit here and enjoy the ride."
Merry snorted, but I saw her eyes crinkle in amusement. I knew, though, that she'd never let me live down my commentary on her Mini Cooper. That's what best friends did.
Zayne Tillmon, Lisa's personal assistant, was not available, at least according to his rather flippant recorded greeting.
"I'm not in right now—or maybe I am and just don't feel like talking. (I could hear giggling in the background.) Anyhoo, buckaroo, leave me a message and I may just make your day and call you back. (More giggling.) Tootles!"
"Are you kiddin' me? Who in their right mind says stuff like that on their voice mail? Especially a someone who's supposed to be professional."
I'd played the entire recording on speaker phone so Merry could hear it as well. I just shook my head as I disconnected the call.
"I think the key words here are 'in their right mind,'" I said wryly. "Zayne sounds a bit, well, zany to me."
"He does at that," she agreed. "Well, you can try again later."
"I was thinking," I began slowly, "that I'd contact Lisa first, maybe offer my sympathies or whatever would work with her. I have a feeling that she has to keep Zany-boy on a tight leash in order to get anything accomplished." Merry nodded, and I added, "She probably knows exactly where he was during the timeframes of the two murders."
You Can Lead a Horse to Water (Proverbial Crime Mysteries Book 3) Page 11
