Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,22
the glass and waved, the identity of the person on the other side of the door all but certain.
She dropped her feet to the ground and stood, a smile tugging her mouth upward as she closed the gap between them in record time. When she reached the door she yanked it open. “Milo! Hi!”
“Hi.” Smiling sweetly, he held a white paper sack into the air. “I brought you back some dessert. The waiter called it Death By Chocolate and the second he did, I immediately thought of you.”
She tried to smile. She really did. But on the heels of what had transpired that day, the name of the dessert didn’t sound quite so appealing.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He lowered the sack to his side and glanced down at his wristwatch. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No.”
A frown furrowed his brows. “Are you feeling poorly?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“It’s been a rough day with Ashley Lawson’s murder and all.”
Milo’s mouth hung open. “What?”
She stared at him, his reaction not what she had expected. “You didn’t hear?”
“No. What happened?”
Stepping back, she waved him inside. “She was found in her car this morning.”
He strode into the darkened living room and then stopped, retracing his steps over to the light switch on the wall. With a flick of his finger, her living room was bathed in light. “And they think she was murdered because . . .”
“Of the rope that was tied around her neck.”
“Wow.”
That was one word for it.
She followed him over to the sofa and sat down. “Even more of a wow is the fact that I’m pretty sure it was the same rope you used to secure the tire swing for Sally’s birthday party.”
He dropped onto the cushion beside her, his mouth gaping open once again. “What?”
“I suspect that’s one of the reasons Chief Dallas was in my office just after ten o’clock this morning.” She heard the wooden quality to her voice yet could do little to stop it. The day had taken its toll on just about every ounce of her being.
“Huh?” Milo swiveled to face her, his hand reaching for hers. “Wait. Tell me he’s not looking at you for this.”
She shrugged. “If he is, I’m one of many.”
“I don’t get it.”
She closed her eyes as his fingers entwined with hers. “Do you remember what I told you last night after the party? How I was afraid the rope might be too tempting for Margaret Louise after expressing her desire to strangle Ashley Lawson?”
His face paled. “Oh my God, I forgot about that. You don’t think—no, there’s no way. Margaret Louise would never do something like that.”
“Do you remember how I told you she wasn’t the only one who wanted to strangle her?”
He nodded. “Oh. Wow.”
“Unfortunately those feelings were muttered aloud—shared behind hands and hinted at via whispered innuendos by the likes of Margaret Louise, Debbie, Beatrice, Rose, Dixie, Leona, Melissa, Caroline Rowen, Samantha Smith, and in a roundabout way, me. And they were overheard, and then shared with the police shortly after Ashley’s body was found.”
“Shared?” He released her hand, raking his own through his burnished brown hair. “Shared by whom?”
“Ashley’s boss, Regina Murphy.” She grabbed the throw pillow to her left and hugged it to her chest, the memory of Regina’s face crystal clear in her mind. “I remember when she walked up. The kids were taking turns on the swings and Ashley was holding back the line so Penelope could take a ride without having to wait like the other kids.”
Milo rolled his eyes.
“When Penelope’s turn was over, Jackson was waiting. Penelope asked to ride again and Ashley agreed. When Jackson started to cry, she told him to grow up. That’s when Debbie muttered her desire to strangle Ashley. A desire that was seconded several times over by everyone standing there.”
“And Regina heard that?”
She nodded. “And now it’s all one big mess.” Resting her chin on top of the pillow she closed her eyes. “You should have seen our circle meeting tonight. By the time it was over, everyone was pointing at everyone else just to get the heat off of themselves.”
His arms came around her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry, Tori. I really am. But don’t you worry, Chief Dallas will figure out who really did this and the heat will dissipate. It has to.”
She willed herself to keep the doubt silent. Expressing it didn’t do any good. Instead, she opted for something a little closer to wishful thinking. “You’re right, Milo. It’ll be okay.” For