by Lynn Cahoon
“No, I don’t work that way.” Cat could see the disappointment in her face. She’d known the next words out of Molly’s mouth would have been either an invitation to join her group or a request to join Cat’s. She turned toward Anne. “So how do you decide who wins?”
Anne shrugged. “Most nights we don’t because they all think they’re right about everything. It’s kind of annoying, really.”
Rick sat back in the couch, his face registering shock. “But I am right about everything. Haven’t you learned that yet?”
The group dissolved into laughter. When it subsided, Colleen turned toward Cat. “So, we’ve heard rumors about the guy who was killed in the bakery. You’re related to the police chief, right?”
“He’s my uncle.” Cat didn’t like where this conversation was going. She’d had writers’ groups that had decided to solve a murder before, and it never ended well. “But we don’t really talk about his work.”
Disappointment filled Anne’s face. “Oh, we were hoping you could clear up the method of death for us. The rumors we heard at the library today, well, they just don’t sound feasible.”
“You know real life doesn’t have to make sense,” Rick added. “I’ve modeled a plot point on some real murders for a story and I got nailed by my editor. Unrealistic, he said. Seriously, it was real life. How can that be unrealistic?”
Cat couldn’t help herself. She opened her water and took a sip, playing it casual before she asked, “So what are the rumors?”
“Two people said he was shot. One said the baker hit him on the head and stuffed him in the oven. And one said he had a heart attack and it wasn’t even murder.” Molly summarized the day’s conversation.
“It’s crazy how much people talk here. And to complete strangers.” Colleen shook her head and then took the last cookie. “How did they know one of us didn’t kill him?”
The room got quiet as they all looked at each other. Then one by one, they started laughing.
Anne shook her head. “I think the bigger question is which one of them did the deed and is hiding in plain sight. You know that’s what happens in our books. It’s always the one you didn’t suspect until the reveal and then everything falls into place.”
“If you’ve done your job right,” Colleen added. “Sometimes everyone except the main character knows the killer way before the reveal. That’s just sloppy plotting.”
“Which none of us has ever done,” Rick added dryly.
“According to a few of my reviewers, they always know the killer long before the end.” Colleen glanced around the room. “It makes you wonder why they keep reading and reviewing you if they hated the book so much to give it three stars.”
“Three stars isn’t bad.” Anne patted her friend’s arm. “I love the one stars with just a few words. Like ‘crap.’ Or ‘not for me.’”
“They don’t really do that, do they?” Molly’s eyes widened. “Professional reviewers aren’t mean. The other students in my class are harsh, but I thought once I was published . . .”
“Oh, to be young and naive,” Rick teased. “The best one-star reviews are the ones where they say, ‘I didn’t order this.’ Or ‘my e-reader wouldn’t open it.’”
Anne smiled at Molly, who had reached for another cookie. “Don’t listen to us. We’re jaded. Most reviewers give thoughtful comments. I try not to read the reviews. They aren’t for us; they are for the other readers. And if someone is having a bad day and leaves a snarky review, well, I can’t control that. All I can control is writing the best book I can write.”
Rick picked up his coffee cup. “I’ll drink to that.”
Cat studied the four people gathered around the coffee table. Writers had a common bond. Most of them wanted to help each other through the minefield of being an author. And she didn’t know if she’d gotten lucky with her retreat guests that they were mostly of that type. Then again, maybe she drew a certain type to the retreat. People who were serious about their craft and their business.
“Did anyone have any questions about the week’s schedule?” Cat decided to get the topic off reviews before they scared Molly from ever publishing anything. “Shauna’s willing to do a one-on-one with anyone if you want to play around with a recipe.”
Colleen nodded. “That would be awesome. I have a muffin I’ve mentioned in my current book but I’ve never made it or anything like it. Do you think she could help me develop a recipe?”
“She’d love that.” Cat thought about the retreat schedule. “Tomorrow there’s a session at ten with Covington’s Hemingway expert that lasts about an hour. Wednesday, I do a fireside chat on the business of writing. And Friday the local bookseller is coming in for a session on working with authors. Last session, we did afternoon word sprints before dinner each day. We can do that too.”
Molly raised her hand. “I can run those. I run a word-chasing group on campus every Friday night.”
“You college kids sure know how to party,” Rick teased. “When I was in school, Friday night was cheap beer night at the local bar.”
“It is here too, but some of us take our writing seriously,” Molly shot back.
“Children, stop fighting.” Anne shook her head and smiled at Cat. “You can’t take them anywhere.”
“Thanks for the offer to handle that part, Molly. Just let me know when you’re having them and I’ll come in and write too. I’m between contracts but I have a different idea I’d like to play with.” Cat stood and stretched. “I’m heading to bed. You’re welcome to stay up as long as you like. We restocked the dining room with treats and drinks, so don’t be shy. I’m less of a night owl and more of a lark.”
They said their good nights, but no one else followed Cat out of the room. She wanted to grab a notebook and start making notes about Greyson Finn’s murder. Not that she was going to investigate. This was just something she wanted to get down before she forgot what the rumors had been.
And pigs fly. The angel on her shoulder pointed out the obvious. She was investigating, even if it was just on paper and in her head.
Chapter Nine
“Official day one in the books,” Shauna announced as Cat came into the kitchen Tuesday morning. “Of course, for me, it feels like day three since I had the cooking demonstration on Sunday.”
Cat yawned as she poured coffee, then sat at the table where Shauna was on her tablet. “They’re a fun group.”
“Did you stay up too late?” Shauna took in her appearance. “You look tired.”
“I went to bed early, leaving the group in the living room still planning murders and desserts.” Cat sipped her coffee and almost groaned as the warm, life-sustaining liquid filled her senses. “I just couldn’t sleep. I’m still mad at Jessica for claiming to have helped me write the first Tori book, but on the other hand, she just lost her brother-in-law.”
“I get it. You don’t know if you want to rip her head off or give her a hug.” Shauna pushed a plate of apple fritters toward her. “Have one of these. Maybe the sugar will perk you up a bit.”
“I was hoping a hot shower would do the trick, but I may have to sneak away this afternoon and take a nap.” Cat rolled her shoulders, then took a fritter, setting it on a napkin in front of her. “They did hear a lot of rumors about how Greyson Finn died when they were at the library. They were trying to poke at me to see what I knew.”
Shauna didn’t look up as she swiped at her screen. “So what do you know? Have you started a notebook yet?”
Her friend knew her too well. Cat squirmed and took a bite of the pastry to delay her answer. Shrugging, she decided to admit it. “I’ve been looking into Finn’s life and the guy didn’t have enemies. At least none on the surface. His employees loved him. He has two restaurants in Denver and there were rumors that he was looking for a third site.”
“But no smoking gun.” Shauna turned the laptop around. “From what I know about your sleuthing method, you need to get close to the victim’s life. I think it’s a great
excuse for a dinner out. You can get reservations at his restaurant for dinner this week. Do you and Seth want to take a quick trip into Denver to see what you can find out?”
Cat shook her head. “I’ve decided I’m staying out of this one. Uncle Pete’s already wondering why I was over at the bakery the day of the killing. I think I’m going to focus on the retreat and maybe play with a new book idea I’ve been considering.”
“That sounds almost believable.” Shauna held up a hand when Cat started to object. “Look, I’m all for you staying out of the fray. Lord knows you’ve put yourself in harm’s way enough times over things that you should have stayed away from.”
“Then why the hesitation?” Cat finished the last of the fritter and watched as Shauna chewed her bottom lip.
“I guess it’s because you care about people. You jump in to help because you can’t stop yourself.” Shauna closed the laptop and got up to get the coffeepot. She refilled Cat’s cup as well as her own, then sat back down. “If Pete hadn’t been the one investigating Kevin’s death and you hadn’t helped out, well, I might not be sitting here looking for more apple recipes.”
“Shauna, that’s silly.” Though Cat had wondered the same thing. “Anyway, that all worked out.”
Shauna sipped her coffee. “I just wanted to say thanks. I appreciate everything you did for me then.”
The back door opened and Seth strolled into the kitchen. “Snow and the dwarfs are fed and watered, so don’t let them talk you into a second breakfast when you go out to visit later.”
He stopped and stared at Cat and Shauna, feeling the energy in the room. “Did I just walk in on something? Should I go back outside for a while?”
A shared look of humor passed between the two women before Cat spoke. “You’re fine. Shauna made apple fritters.”
He went to the cupboard and grabbed a cup for coffee. Once he’d filled it, he joined them at the table. “I know I’ll probably be sick of apple anything before long, but these are my favorite pastry. The ones at the bakery are okay, but there’s this little coffee shop in Denver that has the best ones ever.”
“Well, I hope mine are at least better than the ones at the bakery.” Shauna eyed him carefully. “And when have you been visiting the bakery anyway? Do you not like my baking?”
Seth’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I don’t go there often. Just when I’m working on that side of town. Besides, the only time I get to enjoy your baking is during retreat weeks. A man can’t live without donuts in his life for three weeks out of the month.”
“I’m just kidding you.” Shauna glanced at her watch. “Thanks for taking care of Snow. I’ll go visit after lunch. I’ve got a batch of apple butter to make this morning. Is there anything you need from me for the guests? I’ll freshen the linens and clean rooms after I get the apple butter in jars.”
“I got called out on a porch repair job this morning. You don’t need me here for anything with the retreat, do you?” He glanced at Cat as he finished one fritter and grabbed another.
“Nope. Professor Turner is coming this morning and then the guests are on their own until we gather in the living room this evening after dinner.” Cat thought about her own schedule. “I guess I’ll go up to my office this afternoon and do some marketing and scheduling.”
“You’re not writing?” Seth asked.
She shook her head. “In between contracts. I don’t want to get too far into the next Tori book if they aren’t picking up three more. I’m playing with different series ideas. The group’s in for writing sprints so I’m going to join them and see what shows up on the page.”
“And you’re not investigating Finn’s death?”
“What is it with you two?” Cat glanced back and forth between Seth and Shauna. “Do you think I have a need to get involved in every unsolved crime in the three-county area?”
“I would have said Colorado, but yeah.” Seth glanced at Shauna. “Do you agree?”
“Actually, I don’t think she’d go north past Denver. So maybe most of Colorado,” Shauna clarified.
“I’m so glad you two are my friends. I’d hate to see how you would talk about me if we were enemies.” Cat stood and threw away her napkin and refilled her coffee cup. “I’m going upstairs to work. I’ll see you at lunch?”
“You don’t want breakfast?” Shauna asked.
What she wanted was a nap. Cat shook her head. “I’m good. I’m going to push through and see if I can get a second wind this morning.”
As she climbed the stairs to her office, questions about who killed Greyson Finn taunted her. How did he die? She could call her uncle, but he’d tell her to stay out of things. She couldn’t very well reach out to Jessica and ask her for the gossip since it was one of her family who had died. Besides, she needed to have a different talk with Jessica. Friends didn’t claim ownership of someone else’s work. She hoped that Molly had just misunderstood Jessica’s intent, but her intuition told her differently.
When her alarm went off at nine thirty, she had finished her accounting for her writer business. Thank God Shauna took care of this part for the retreat. Cat hated doing the monthly accounting work as it was. The retreat was a whole different level of stress. She saved her work and closed down her computer. Professor Turner tended to arrive early and had a habit of rearranging her living room if he wasn’t supervised in his lecture setup.
She stretched and headed downstairs. She was most definitely taking a nap this afternoon. Maybe she’d skip lunch and just sleep after the guests left.
Cat glanced in the dining room and saw that Shauna had already set up the morning treats. She snagged an apple and smiled at the little handmade sign by the bowl. “EAT ME.” Grabbing a bottle of water, she headed into the living room to make sure it was ready for Turner’s lecture.
When he arrived at 9:45, he hesitated at the door. Cat had set up his lectern and a slide projector but hadn’t moved the chairs into a replica of a classroom. She could see his gaze roll over the seating and a large sigh shook his body. “I see you already have me set up, Catherine.”
“I do. I didn’t want you to have to worry about moving furniture.” Cat hoped her meaning was clear. “So how have you been? How’s the project with the Hemingway papers going?”
“It’s so exciting. I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news. There’s a book coming out about Hemingway and his spy activities. I’m sure I’ve seen the author on campus at the library working. Maybe you know him?” Professor Turner looked hopeful. “Don’t you all have meetings together?”
She wondered how many authors he thought there were in the world. Maybe he imagined they all went to the Disneyland resort once a year and sat in the bar, talking about books? “Sorry, I don’t know any nonfiction writers. I’m sure Miss Applebome would know if he came in without a card. She knows everything that goes on at that library.”
“You’re right about that. I should talk to her.” He glanced up as Rick sauntered into the room, brownie half in his mouth and a coffee cup in his other hand along with a notebook shoved between his arm and his chest.
“What,” he mumbled through the treat. Glancing around the empty room, his eyes widened. “Am I not supposed to be in here yet?”
“Of course, you are.” Professor Turner gave him a welcoming smile. “I was just looking at your refreshments. Catherine, would you mind getting me a bottle of water before I start? My mouth gets so dry when I’m teaching.”
Cat left to get the water and Professor Turner followed Rick to his seat, peppering him with questions on his knowledge of Hemingway. The guy liked to know his audience. Stepping out of the room, she ran straight into Jessica Blair. Anger flared inside her and her heart raced, but she was able to squeak out a welcome. “Jessica, I didn’t expect to see you today. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
She considered Jessica with flat eyes. For someone who just lost a family member, the woman looked normal. The classic professor. Jeans, a starched white shirt,
and a blazer. Cat had worn the same uniform when she started teaching, but she’d switched the white shirt to wearing vintage vanity T-shirts with cartoon characters or favorite quotes by the time she gave notice.
“I knew you’d figured that out already when Tyler mentioned you’d stopped by. I know I never told you about Greyson being family.”
“Actually, I didn’t know until this week. And why would someone who said she was my friend hide something like her real name?” Not to mention the fact of Jessica claiming to have written at least part of Cat’s first book. But she’d hold that discussion for another time. Besides, Jessica never answered any question about her actions directly. “Why are you here, Jessica?”
“I need you to tell your uncle that I couldn’t have killed Greyson. That I was with you when he was killed. You could say we were in the library.” Jessica nodded. “That we met there after my class to catch up.”
“But we weren’t in the library.” Cat couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you telling me you were involved in Greyson Finn’s death? If that’s true, you need to go talk to my uncle now. Maybe there are extenuating circumstances or something. I know you couldn’t have meant to kill anyone.”
Jessica sighed like Cat was the slow student in one of her classes. “Look, I didn’t kill anyone. I just need to make sure your uncle doesn’t come around asking questions. Can you do me one favor?”
“Lie to my uncle?” Cat shook her head. “I’m not as quick with the lies as you seem to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jessica’s face turned beet red. “I never . . .”
A sound came from behind her. “Cat, did you find me some water?”
Cat and Jessica turned to see Professor Turner watching them.
“No, I was just about to get it. I’ll be right in.” Cat turned to Jessica. “As soon as I finish here.”
