“Be careful,” Angie said. “Ray, go with her.”
Ray had just lifted his pint glass to his lips. He glanced between them and put his glass down. “Fine.”
“Call me if you see her,” Mel said to Cassie.
Mel crossed the room and pushed through the heavy glass doors. It was cooler outside and she took a deep breath of the night air. The immaculate lawn of the golf course beyond the patio smelled damp and fresh with a recent watering.
Cushy loungers filled the patio and there was a fire pit off to the side with a couple sitting beside it, enjoying the quiet.
Mel approached the couple and asked if they’d seen Elise, using the same description she’d given the bartender and the hotel staff person. The couple shook their heads.
“Sorry,” the woman said. “We’ve been the only ones out here for the past hour.”
“Thank you,” Mel said. She turned and headed back inside. Maybe Elise had gone to the bathroom or perhaps she’d run into someone she knew.
She was halfway to the doors when she heard a scream. Mel jumped and glanced at Ray, checking to see if he’d heard it, too. His eyes went wide and as one they hurried to the doors.
Mel yanked the door open and stepped inside. Angie had hopped off of her stool and was hurrying towards the back of the bar. Mel followed. As she turned the corner, she saw Cassie standing beside a booth on the opposite side of the room. A brown-and-white scarf was just visible, hanging off of the bench seat.
“Mel, it’s Elise,” Cassie cried. “I think . . . oh my god . . . I think she’s dead!”
Eight
Mel ran, noting in her peripheral vision that Angie and Ray did, too. She got there first and one look into the booth and she knew Cassie was right to freak out. Elise was slumped forward onto the table, her face pressed against the wood, her eyes closed. The fancy pen she had been using to sign books was lodged right in her back.
Mel dove into the booth, thinking that maybe she had a chance to save her. How long had Elise been ahead of them? Five minutes? Ten? How long did it take to stab someone? Not that long.
She unwrapped the scarf from around Elise’s neck, she checked her pulse, she patted her cheek, trying to bring her back. Angie climbed into the booth on the other side. She put her hand in front of Elise’s mouth and nose, feeling for breath.
“I can’t tell if she’s breathing,” Angie cried. “No inhale or exhale, nothing.”
“Move aside, move over,” Ray ordered. “And call 9-1-1. We need to get her horizontal so that she doesn’t come to and have a fainting spell.”
He lifted Mel up and put her outside the booth. Then he carefully lifted Elise up into his arms and walked over to an empty pool table nearby.
Angie fumbled with her phone making the call while Mel and Cassie followed Ray, trying to be of help.
“Her wound needs to be above her heart, so she has to be on her side,” Ray said. Mel arranged Elise’s feet while Cassie adjusted her arms.
“Good,” Ray said. He moved the lamp hanging over the pool table so he could see Elise’s back. He hissed out a breath at the sight of the blood. Mel thought he looked a little woozy, but he shook it off. “Come on, author lady, don’t die on me. Not today.”
“The pen! She was stabbed with her own pen?” Cassie cried. “Should we remove it?”
“No,” Ray said. “Right now it’s staunching the blood flow from the wound. Someone get me a clean towel. We need to put pressure around it.”
Cassie rushed off towards the bar. Mel watched in fascination as Ray went to work, checking Elise’s airway, her breathing, and her circulation.
“I think she fainted,” Ray said. “Not a big surprise, and she’s likely gone into shock.”
Mel could hear Angie telling the emergency dispatcher the name of the resort and where they were. She stayed on the line while the dispatcher asked her questions.
“How did you learn to do all this?” Mel asked.
“I used to be a lifeguard at the public pool,” Ray said. “We had to take a lot of first aid.”
“What the hell is going on here?” a shrill female voice demanded.
Mel turned around to see Detective Tara Martinez standing there, looking furious at the scene in front of her.
“What are you doing here?” Mel asked.
“Stan sent me,” Tara said. “He’s on his way. What the hell happened here?”
“This is Elise Penworthy,” Cassie said. She handed Ray a clean towel. “Someone tried to kill her, and he’s trying to save her.”
Ray took the cloth and pressed it around the pen in Elise’s back. Then he patted her cheek, trying to bring her around. Tara bent over the table next to Ray and glared at him.
“DeLaura, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t just manhandle a person—”
A gasp, a cough, an enormous sucking sound came out of Elise’s mouth and Ray grabbed her shoulder to keep her from moving. As if he’d fished Elise out of the ocean, she began to suck in air. The color didn’t return to her face and her mouth twisted in pain, but she was definitely alive.
“I’ll be damned,” Ray said. “That stuff on the Internet really does work.”
“Sweet chili dogs,” Tara said. “The Internet? Are you insane?”
“Hey, I saved her, didn’t I?”
“Cassie,” Elise croaked. “Cassie.”
“Yes, I’m here.” Cassie knelt down to be level with Elise. She took her friend’s hand and asked, “Are you all right? Do you remember anything? Who did this to you?”
Elise’s eyes shone with a fierce light as she stared at the bookseller. “You did!”
Cassie’s eyes went wide. “What? How could you think— Elise!”
Elise’s eyes rolled back into her head and her body sagged.
Ray moved forward and checked her pulse and her breathing. “It’s all right. I think she just passed out again, probably from the pain.”
“Hey, over here!” Angie jumped up and down and waved her arms. “The ambulance guys are here!”
“Thank god,” Ray said. “I don’t think I can do this again.”
The emergency medical technicians took over for Ray and the group backed off. Tara moved so that she was standing beside Cassie. Mel knew that wasn’t a coincidence. Cassie, however, was so riveted on her friend’s condition that she didn’t notice.
They stood huddled in a group, watching as the medical professionals took over Elise’s care. They checked her vitals, and left the pen right where it was. She was hooked up to several machines, and then they were lifting her onto a stretcher. Once they were on their way, Cassie snapped out of her vigil.
“Wait! I’m coming with you,” she said.
“I don’t think so,” Tara said. “I’ve got some questions for you Ms.—”
“Leighton. I’m Cassie Leighton, I own the bookstore A Likely Story,” she said.
“So, you’re the one who set up this signing?” Tara asked.
“Yes, I also run the indie press that published her book, but I didn’t hurt her,” Cassie said. “I swear.”
“Then why did she say you did?” Tara asked. Her voice was not combative but not kind, either.
“I don’t know. I don’t understand it. I would never. I’m her friend, her best friend, heck, her only friend.”
Tara didn’t look like she believed her. She glanced around the room. “No one leaves until I say so.”
“But my patient,” Ray protested. “I brought her back from the light. I really need to stay with her.”
“No,” Tara said. “I’ll make sure she has an officer with her at all times. The rest of you sit.” No one moved, and she looked like she’d happily lock them all up. Her face contorted into what Mel suspected was her scary detective face and she barked, “Now!”
They all sat except for Ray,
who seemed to think that Tara’s scary detective face was her way of flirting with him.
“It’s okay, babe,” he said. “I get it. You don’t have to feel bad about yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” Tara frowned.
“You and your feel—” Ray began but Angie interrupted.
“Oh, no, Ray, don’t do it,” Angie said. He ignored her.
As the EMTs wheeled Elise out of the room, Tara went to follow them and Ray fell into step beside her. The look Tara gave him should have shriveled him up on the spot, but Ray kept on going.
“Look,” he said. “Don’t judge yourself too hard on this thing between us. I know you can’t help it. In fact, why don’t we just go grab some dinner and we can talk about your feelings and stuff?”
“Feelings? Stuff?” Tara squawked. “The only feeling I have for you is one of mild repugnance.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Are you seriously hitting on me, DeLaura? Now?”
“Merely offering to assist you through your confusion.”
“I am not confused!”
“No? Then why are you holding your Taser in your hand when I know you were about to call your partner?” he asked.
Tara glanced down at her hand and blushed. “I . . . that’s . . . because if you don’t back up, I’m going to hit you with fifty thousand volts at twenty-five watts.”
“Sounds kinky,” Ray said. Then he gave her a slow wink.
“I swear, one more word and I’ll lock you up—”
“Detective Martinez, what’s going on here?” Uncle Stan stepped into the room with Joe and two uniformed officers right behind him.
Joe moved beside Mel and gave her hand a quick squeeze. The warmth of his fingers around hers made her realize how icy cold her hand was. She didn’t know if it was shock or hunger causing her system to short out. She suspected it was both.
“We have a stab victim,” Tara said. “And she’s already identified her attacker.”
“Wait!” Cassie cried. “No!”
Tara ignored her and looked at the big, burly officer beside Joe. She said, “Jackson, I want you to ride with the victim, a Ms. Elise Penworthy, to the hospital and stay with her at all times. If there is any change in her condition, contact me immediately.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jackson turned and hurried after Elise.
“But I want to go with her,” Cassie protested. “She’s going to be terrified if she wakes up by herself.”
“Given that she identified you as the person who assaulted her,” Tara said, “I think she’d be more frightened if you went with her.”
“But I didn’t do it,” Cassie protested. “The pen that was used is still in her back. Get it fingerprinted. It’ll prove it wasn’t me.”
Stan glanced between Cassie and Tara as if assessing his partner’s read on the situation before he asked, “She was stabbed with a pen?”
“The same one she signed her books with,” Cassie said. “It was her personalized pen. She had it specially made for her signing.” Cassie burst into great big noisy sobs and Mel put her arm around her shoulders in an attempt to soothe her. Tara looked as if she considered Cassie a big faker, while Stan had a more considered look on his face. He was still open-minded.
“Hey, I saved a life,” Ray said.
All eyes turned to him.
“How? By getting out of the way?” Stan asked as he met Mel’s gaze. She gave him a slight shake of her head, letting him know she didn’t believe Cassie had stabbed Elise.
“Funny, really funny. I’ll have you know I brought her back from the jaws of death,” Ray said.
Joe raised his eyebrows and Mel met his questioning glance with a nod.
“He did,” she said. “Ray was amazing. He knew just what to do. He likely saved Elise’s life.”
“Right, and to get back to what really matters, we have our suspect right here,” Tara said. She frowned at Mel, who still had an arm around Cassie. “Ms. Leighton.”
Uncle Stan glanced at Cassie. His expression was intimidating, but Mel knew it was also the grimace that happened when his heartburn was kicking up. Cassie Leighton didn’t know this and when she met his gaze, she promptly burst into tears again.
“I didn’t do it,” she protested. “I would never.”
Mel patted the bookseller’s back in a show of solidarity. “She didn’t do it. I know she didn’t.”
“Here we go,” Tara scoffed. She turned her glare on Uncle Stan. “Why is she even here?”
Mel felt her jaw clench. “Because I’m a witness.”
Tara stared her down. “How do you figure? Did you see the person who shoved the pen in the vic’s back? Or did you see someone following her, looking like they were about to shank her? No, you didn’t, did you?”
Mel sucked in a breath and drew herself up to her full height. She gave Cassie one last quick squeeze and stepped forward so that she loomed over the shorter woman. If Tara was intimidated it didn’t show.
“Now, Mel,” Uncle Stan said. His voice was cajoling, as if he really thought he could talk her out of being super irritated with this woman.
“Don’t,” she said to him. Then she turned back to Tara. “I happen to have been at the book signing where we saw both her ex-husband and his new wife make a scene, as well as one of her old friends from the neighborhood. The book Elise wrote has brought out a lot of animosity, meaning there are plenty of people who might have wanted to stab her and most of them were at her signing tonight.”
“Except she already told us who did, so there really isn’t much point in searching for someone else when we have the primary suspect right here,” Tara said.
“The point would be to get to the truth,” Mel said.
“So bored.” Tara stretched her mouth wide in a fake yawn and patted her lips with one hand.
Mel took another step towards her, not really sure of what she planned to do, but it was rendered null and void as Joe slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her back out of striking range.
“It sounds like you all have a lot of information to share,” Joe said. “Right, Stan?”
Stan was popping an antacid tablet and nodded. “Yeah, let’s divide up the interviews. Martinez, you take Ray and Angie, and I’ll take Ms. Leighton and Mel.”
“What?” Tara fumed. “Why do I get stuck with Dumb and Dumber?”
“What’d you call me?” Angie snapped.
“Relax, Sis,” Ray said. “She’s just trying to look like she’s not interested in this.” Ray made a sweeping gesture at his own body and Angie rolled her eyes.
“Okay, so she got half of it right,” Angie said.
“Harsh, Ange, real harsh,” Ray said.
Mel took a moment to turn her back on the group and fire off a quick text. If this situation was going the way she feared, Cassie was going to need professional help of the lawyerly kind, and not from the side of the courtroom Joe sat on.
“Angie! Mel!” Tate appeared in the doorway to the bar. “I got here as fast as I could. Are you all right? What happened?”
He dashed across the room and grabbed Angie in a hug that lifted her right off of her feet. Then he kissed her. It might have gone on longer, but Ray grabbed Tate’s collar in his fist and lifted him up until he was forced to drop Angie.
“Save it for the honeymoon, Harper,” Ray said.
“Right,” Tate said. He held up his hands in surrender and Ray dropped him back on the ground. Tate glanced from Angie to Mel. “You’re both okay?”
“We’re fine,” Angie said. She took Tate’s hand in hers. “And it turns out, Blaise’s murder had nothing to do with us. Somehow, it’s all connected to Elise Penworthy and her book The Palms.”
“What? I don’t understand,” he said.
“The caterer, the photogra
pher, and the driver hired to work Elise’s book signing were all murdered,” Mel said. “And someone just tried to kill Elise. You two just happened to have the same photographer and driver. It really was just a coincidence.”
“That’s horrible. Those poor people,” Tate said. He looked upset, as if he couldn’t process so much bad news all at once. “And yet, I’m so relieved we had nothing to do with it. Ugh, I’m a horrible person.”
He looked at Angie and she nodded and said, “No, I feel the same way. I didn’t want to be responsible for Blaise’s death, either.”
They hugged and the group moved away from them to give them a minute to talk.
Uncle Stan gestured for Mel and Cassie to come with him and he led them towards a booth in the corner. Mel was grateful to have Joe there as her fiancé, but not so much as a county prosecutor.
“Will this be a conflict of interest for you?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you probably leave so that the case doesn’t get tainted?”
“I’ll recuse myself from the case should there be one,” he said.
“Oh, good, then you won’t be mad that I texted for backup,” she said. “I don’t think Cassie should answer any of Uncle Stan’s questions.”
“Why not? Do you think she had something to do with the murders or with the attack on the author?”
“No, not at all. I’m just not certain she can account for her whereabouts the whole time. It was crazy busy with all of the people and the books and such. So, I figure it won’t hurt for her to have proper representation.”
“Mel . . .” Joe said. “Tell me you didn’t. Not him.”
“All right, I won’t tell you,” she said.
“Melanie Cooper, my favorite cupcake baker,” a voice boomed from the doorway to the bar.
“Oh, for cripe’s sake,” Uncle Stan muttered. “Who called that guy?”
“Sorry, Uncle Stan,” Mel said. “It had to be done.”
“You know, if you weren’t my favorite niece I’d disown you right now,” he said.
“I’m your only niece.”
“Pity.”
Steve Wolfmeier, a local defense attorney, strolled across the bar towards them. In his shiny suit and shinier shoes, he looked like someone who could slide through a tar pit and not get a bit of black ooze stuck on him. In other words, he was the perfect attorney for a person in a jam, which Cassie was.
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