They laughed.
“Hey, I think you should tell Quinn about that stupid rumor Lily was spouting yesterday. We don’t want her to hear it from someone else.”
“Good idea. Why don’t you come with me?” Dawson pulled Landry along with her by the arm.
They found Quinn scribbling notes at the interview table. Dawson cleared her throat. “Officer Quinn, I think I should tell you what someone is saying about my company.”
Quinn nodded as she turned to a fresh page in her notebook. “What would that be?”
“I heard a rumor that I was paying Eileen to write good reviews for Equality authors.”
“And, were you?”
“Excuse me? I would never pay for reviews. That’s ridiculous. My authors don’t need it. They are talented writers.”
“No need to get upset. It’s a fair question. And I suppose you’re going to tell me Lily Pond started this rumor?”
“How did you know?”
“She got to me first.”
“Damn! Well, apparently she told Rusty that Equality was behaving unethically by paying for slanted reviews.”
“I’ve found that often there is a nugget of truth in rumor.”
“But, there is no truth in this rumor. I’ve already told you that.”
Landry sat across from Detective Quinn and gently put her hand on her forearm. “Detective, I’ve been with Dawson’s company for years, and this is not something we would do…or even consider.”
Quinn’s shoulders relaxed and she sat back in her chair. “A check of Eileen’s financials will tell me what I need to know.”
“That’s right, it will,” Dawson said.
“Where were you when breakfast was being served yesterday?” Quinn asked her.
“My wife and I slept late. You can even ask Skye. She came to our room that morning to find us still in bed.”
“What’s your wife’s name?”
“Janis Stenson.”
“Okay, I may need to speak to her later. When was the last time you saw Eileen?”
Dawson thought for a moment. “I saw her at the pitch session the day before she died.”
“Oh, yeah,” Landry’s pulsed raced. Now things were getting interesting. “She came with Sally Sandow for moral support—”
“That’s right, and she hijacked Sally’s pitch.”
“What exactly is a pitch?” Quinn asked.
“It’s when a publisher listens to an unpublished writer about a book idea,” Dawson explained “We usually allocate about twenty minutes. Sally used about three minutes, and then Eileen hogged the rest, and she wasn’t even supposed to be giving a pitch.”
Quinn was scribbling furiously in her notebook. “How did Sally react?”
“Oh, she was pissed. We overheard them arguing in the hall,” Dawson said.
“I think they may have had a parting of the ways,” Landry added.
Quinn eyed Landry, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. “You’ve been very helpful, Ms. Matthews.”
Landry flushed. “Call me Landry.”
Dawson cleared her throat.
Quinn looked her way. “You too, of course, Ms. Daley.
****
Quinn’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Her Caller ID read Captain Morgan. “Yes, Captain.” She walked toward the hall, giving Dawson and Landry a quick wave.
“Why haven’t I heard from you, Quinn?”
“I was just going to call you.”
“Yeah, yeah, the checks in the mail, too. Give me the lowdown.”
“I’m making headway. I’ve done a dozen interviews and I’m preparing my preliminary report. It’ll be on your desk in the morning.”
“Hold off on that. I just got the CSI report. It was Hemlock poisoning. The report said the only content in her stomach was mango juice.”
“Somebody poisoned her mango juice?”
“That’s what it says. Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Quinn. In case you didn’t know, that shit grows everywhere.” He snickered. “Let me know when you figure out who did it. That should keep you busy for a while.”
Swallowing a snarky remark, she said, “You’ll be the first to know,” then disconnected. Asshole. Her stomach was screaming hunger, so she made her way to the hotel restaurant. It was a bit dark for her taste, but then again maybe no one would see her. She found a corner booth in the very back and opened her notebook. A few moments later the waitress approached with a menu and ran down the lunch specials. Quinn thought the waitress was kind of special, but didn’t let on. She did follow her with her eyes after she placed her order, enjoying her sway in those tight black slacks.
She sat back a moment to clear her head. She needed to get a grip on this. So many names. So many stories. Once her meal was served, she spread her notes out on the table and consolidated them into one page of salient points.
The only absolute fact I have is that Eileen was poisoned with Hemlock. So, who has motive? If Lily’s rumor is true, Dawson has motive. Sally has motive because Eileen took over her book pitch thingie and that pissed Sally off. Judy has motive because she was angry at Eileen for Eileen’s bad review of Jansen Jeffries book. “Then there is mole woman and the woman with long dark hair, and whoever else took their side,” she mumbled.
After deciding to interview Sally and Judy next, Quinn rubbed her hands over her face with a deep sigh and pushed the papers away. She needed to eat. Twenty minutes later, she signaled the waitress for the check and scrolled through her list for Sally’s phone number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Sally Sandow?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Sandow, this is Detective Quinn. You’re next on my list for an interview. Can you please meet me in the Mahogany room in five minutes?”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
She didn’t sound happy, so Detective Quinn was glad to see that Sally was waiting when she arrived in the Mahogany room. She joined her at the table and flipped her notebook open to the page she’d reserved for her interview. “Thank you for meeting me.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“No. So where were you the morning Eileen was murdered?”
“I was having breakfast along with everyone else.”
“Where were you sitting?”
“I was over near the door on the other side.”
“Did you ever walk by Eileen’s table that morning?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Maybe you wanted to say hello. Maybe you wanted to know why she took over your book pitch the other day?”
Sally crossed her arms. “I didn’t go near her table. You can ask anyone.” She leaned toward Quinn. “Did someone tell you I killed Eileen?”
“No. No one has accused you of anything. I did hear you were pretty angry with her though.”
“I was angry. Not murderously so. She took over my pitch session. Big deal, I could have made another one. It’s not like it was my only shot.”
“I heard you parted ways.”
“Who said that?” She was silent a moment. “We would have gotten past it. We always did.”
Quinn nodded and jotted in her notebook. “Okay. I get it. Did you happen to see Eileen eat or drink anything that morning?”
“I didn’t see her at all. I was still avoiding her, if you must know.”
“And will anyone tell me anything different if I ask?”
“No.” She crossed her arms again.
Quinn could tell she was done talking. “Thank you, Ms. Sandow. You may go back to whatever you were doing.”
Sally stood and strode out of the room so fast Quinn felt a breeze.
Judy was next on her list. She dialed her number. “Is this Judy Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Marcus, this is Detective Quinn. Are you feeling better now?”
Dead silence.
“Ms. Marcus?”
“A bit better. It comes and goes.”
“I’m sorry, but could you
please meet me in the Mahogany room within the next ten minutes? We need to resume our interview.”
Judy sighed. “For real?”
“Ms. Marcus, this is a murder investigation.
“Fine. I’ll be right there.”
Quinn looked around the busy room as she waited. Despite the murder, the atmosphere was mostly jovial. A few authors were signing books for readers, publishers were manning their tables adorned with posters and other promotional materials, and there was good natured teasing going on between members.
She always thought it would be cool to be a writer. God knew she had enough stories to tell. She looked across at Dawson who was manning the Equality Books table. She was a striking figure, and her authors seemed to look up to her. Was she the murderer? At this point it could still be anyone, Quinn thought, then suddenly found herself wondering where Landry was. But her thoughts were interrupted when Judy cleared her throat and announced herself.
“Hi, Ms. Marcus. Please have a seat.”
Judy heaved a sigh as she sat.
“I trust you will make it through this interview without running off. I’ve learned some interesting things about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you led quite the argument in favor of lynching Eileen Adams at one of the panels.”
“What?” The screech she emitted made Quinn want to plug her ears. “I did no such thing!”
“I heard you started an argument that continued long after the panel ended and that Eileen had to be escorted out of the room.”
“Whoever told you that is a liar!”
“They seemed pretty sure of it,” Quinn egged her on.
“Okay, I admit there was an argument. But it was only because some bitch thought Eileen’s scathing review of Jansen Jeffries book was true.”
“And you didn’t.”
Judy nearly jumped out of her chair. “Of course I didn’t! Eileen simply trashed Jansen’s book because she had it in for her.”
“Why was that?”
“I don’t know, but she did. She had to. That was a great book.”
“Okay, I see.”
“No, you don’t see! Every book that woman has ever written is a masterpiece. No one should ever, ever disrespect her.”
Quinn raised a hand. “Okay, okay, I get it.” She paused to write the word nutso in her notebook, small enough not to be seen.
“If she is as great a writer as you say, she must have had plenty of others standing up for her.”
“Yes, there were several of us that had the guts to stand up to Eileen.”
“Were they friends of yours?”
“Not friends, but like minded people. Genny and Sharon were the bravest. They stood up with me, too.”
Detective Quinn scribbled their names in her book. “Does one of them have long dark hair and the other a mole?”
“How the fuck do I know? Maybe.”
“Were they the two women you were talking with after Eileen collapsed that morning in the Mahogany Room?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Judy poked her jaw forward and looked away.
“Okay, Ms. Marcus, thank you.” She was done with this biddy. Quinn stood, hoping she would get the message.
“No more questions?”
“No, ma’am. You’re free to go…oh, wait, one more thing. Have you ever read Murder at the Con by Landry Matthews?”
“Who hasn’t? She’s one of my favorites, too.”
Quinn hid a grimace. Would Judy murder someone to defend Landry’s books, too? Creepy. Deciding she had enough for today, she glanced at her watch and realized she had just enough time for a trip home to shower and change before the Karaoke fun began. She refused to admit part of her wanted to be at her best when she saw Landry. After all, she cleared her from the suspect list.
Chapter Six
Friday Evening
Landry stood against the wall taking in the scene with a smile. No way was anybody getting her out to dance, but she enjoyed watching others have fun. She was amazed at the voices of some of the authors, especially Lucy Lincoln. But then Lucy was good at everything, wasn’t she? Landry had to admit that she, herself, couldn’t carry a tune in a five gallon bucket.
She was in the midst of taking a swig of her Blue Moon when she saw Quinn enter the room. Her dark hair fell just past her shoulders in soft, loose curls. Dressed in tight black jeans, her long legs looked strong and firm. Her broad shoulders were accentuated by the plum button down, showcasing her flat stomach and full breasts. For a moment Landry forgot how to swallow, choking on her beer. Coughing, she grabbed a napkin. When she gained control she looked up to find Quinn laughing at her. She laughed back, and dodged her way across the dance floor. “You came.”
“You think I would miss this?”
Although Quinn flipped her hand indicating the karaoke party, Landry noticed she was giving her a full-body perusal. She flushed at the double entendrè. Hoping her blush was not noticeable she said, “May I buy you a drink?”
“Sure.”
Landry led her to the bar. “You’re not on duty?”
“I’m never off duty.” Quinn winked. “I’ll have what you’re having.”
They took their drinks and grabbed an open spot along the wall.
After a few swigs, Quinn leaned into Landry. “I thought you’d like to know, I took you off the suspect list,” she whispered.
Landry shivered as Quinn’s warm lips brushed her ear. “But…how…why?” she managed to force out.
“Everyone at your table said you didn’t go anywhere near Eileen’s table that morning.”
“That calls for a toast.” Landry held up her bottle and Quinn tapped hers against it.
They were caught up in each other’s eyes when Nico stopped the music and grabbed the microphone. Dressed as a cactus, she danced around the middle of the floor shouting, “Come on, I dare ya to dance with me.”
Skye appeared from the crowd and began dancing around the cactus. Within moments she approached Landry. “Come on, baby, join us.”
Landry shook her head, but Skye grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dance floor. As Landry gave Quinn a helpless look, Quinn raised her bottle and smiled. Landry grabbed Dawson’s hand as they passed her table. Dawson would not go without Janis who eagerly joined the group. As they began dancing around the cactus, people from all corners of the room joined in.
Afraid Quinn might wander off, Landry kept her eyes on her until she could extract herself from the cactus dance, which she hoped would be soon. She was getting seasick as they were continuously doing ring-around-the-rosy. She turned to Skye and said, “I’m gonna hurl.” Skye let go of her and she quickly made her way back to Quinn.
Soon after the cactus dance ended, Bambi grabbed the microphone. “Ladies, I would like to dedicate this song to Lucy Lincoln.” The room roared. Bambi positioned herself in front of the teleprompter and began singing “Let’s Make Love” by Faith Hill.
Lucy sashayed across the dance floor and stood in front of Bambi. She took Bambi’s hand and swayed back and forth as Bambi crooned to her. The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles, and Lucy laughed. Seemingly out of respect for the lovebirds, the dance floor remained empty until halfway through the song, Nico the cactus, encouraged people to join them.
In a fleeting moment, Landry caught Bambi’s eye and gave her a quick wink before turning to Quinn. “Since I’m off the suspect list can you tell me who is still on it?”
Quinn took a sip of her beer. “Let’s not talk about the case right now.”
“Okay, let’s talk about you. So, you’re a detective?”
“Yes.”
“Then why were you working security?”
“Because, I told my captain to kiss my ass.”
Landry laughed. “I knew I liked you. Can you elaborate?”
“It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, he’s all about the damn paperwork. It saves his ass from the commissioner coming down on
him. When he got on my back about it, I told him to kiss my ass, and he busted me down to officer to get even. He doesn’t like that I’m a lesbian, either.” She laughed. “That’s why I was assigned to security here.”
“But you’re back to being a detective now.”
“He knows I’m a damn good one. So, when there was a murder, and I’m already here…” She shrugged.
“Maybe one of these days you’ll fill me in on the details of the story.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. I promise to fill you in on my story, if you fill me in on what you know about Hemlock poisoning.”
“Ah, I was right then. She was poisoned.”
“Yes, but keep that to yourself…please. What can you tell me about Hemlock, since you seem to know so much about it.” She had a mischievous smirk on her face.
“Are you trying to make me incriminate myself?”
“Not unless there is something I should know.” Quinn looked pointedly at Skye.
Landry followed her gaze across the room. “What exactly are we talking about here, poison or my sex life?”
Quinn looked directly into Landry’s eyes. “Take your pick.”
Those eyes again. Landry felt them pierce into her soul. She nodded toward Skye. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Would I get the same answer if I asked her?” Not having taken her eyes off Landry, Quinn raised an eyebrow.
“Um.” Landry hesitated. She knew her answer to this question would set the tone for their future conversations. “My feeling is that she is more into me than I her, but then again, feel free to ask her. I’ve nothing to hide…neither about Eileen nor Skye.”
Quinn nodded.
Landry thought she seemed satisfied with her answer. A popular slow song floated from the speakers. Landry watched as Bambi walked straight over to Lucy, took her hand, and led her to the dance floor. They snuggled into one another as if they’d been doing this for years. Landry smiled. She had to give Bambi credit. She knew what she wanted and she was going for it. Landry moved closer to Quinn. “Did you still want to talk business, or would you rather spend the rest of tonight on something a little more…pleasurable?”
“Pleasurable? What did you have in mind?”
Murder at the Con: a novella Page 5
