the whole shooting match that you’re bent on killing every member of our team to make damn sure it doesn’t happen!”
Officer Bean cleared his throat with enough force to cause heads to swivel around. “Please continue,” he encouraged Cameron as the room suddenly fell silent.
“Ask them!” Cameron tossed his hand out to indicate the room at large. “Ask them where they were when Dolly collapsed.”
“Forget us!” Bill spat. “Where were you?”
Lucille Rassmuson bounced to her feet so fast, she nearly knocked Cameron over. “I resent that implication, Mister,” she snapped at Bill. “We were hiking across that bridge at the far end of town when Dolly decided to head back to the hotel.”
“Yeah,” said Bernice, jumping up beside her. “We figured the edge of town was the only place we could plan our next strategic move without the rest of you losers trying to eavesdrop on us.”
“What prompted Ms. Pinker ta leave?” asked Bean.
“She was complaining of a headache,” said Cameron.
“Whining about a headache is more like it,” groused Bernice. “Are you familiar with the term ‘drama queen’?”
“I suggested she come back to the hotel and take a hot bath,” said Lucille, crimping her brow as she added, “I haven’t had a headache since The Change, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I used to do to get rid of one.”
“I think I used to hold my breath and count to ten,” Alice reminisced.
“No kidding?” marveled Osmond. “You’re not gonna believe this, but I do the same thing to get rid of hiccups!”
“I assume Ms. Pinker took yer advice?” Bean pressed Lucille.
“Yup. Her head hurt, and she was starting to get a little queasy, so she took off. We offered to walk back with her—” She fisted a hand on her hip and shot Bernice a tart look. “At least, Cameron and I offered, but—”
“She had a freaking headache,” Bernice defended. “It wasn’t as if she was on her deathbed … even though she apparently was.”
“We shouldn’t have listened to her,” said Cameron, his voice brimming with regret. “We should have insisted on walking back with her.”
“I think she was suffering from a killer migraine,” Lucille theorized. “Can killer migraines actually kill?”
“Well, something killed her,” said Cameron. He slanted a suspicious look around the room, his gaze lingering on Bill Gordon. “Bernice, Lucille, and I were hiking along the river near the bay when Dolly died. So where were the rest of you?”
“It’s none of your business where we were,” barked Bill.
“I was in the camera shop,” Margi volunteered. She bobbed her head at the people surrounding her. “Me … and all of my closest friends.”
Nine finger-waving Iowans flapped their hands into the air—
a number that decreased by one when Osmond suddenly peeked inside the shopping bag in his lap. He scratched his head. “If I was in a camera shop, what am I doing with a SaladShooter?”
“I spent a long time shopping in the market across the street,” Stella offered without prodding. “I wanted to stock up on junk food in case the only choice on tonight’s dinner menu is haggis.”
Gee, that was curious. I’d picked up a couple of things in the market, too, but I hadn’t spotted Stella.
“What’s haggis?” asked Margi.
Tilly raised her voice to lecture room volume. “It’s a mixture of sheep’s heart, lungs, and liver, minced together with onions and oatmeal and boiled in a sheep’s stomach to create a very tasty pudding. It’s Scotland’s national dish.”
“I’ve eaten in yer hotel dining room,” Officer Bean said proudly. “Ye hae my word that the haggis is excellent.”
The color drained from Margi’s face. She shot Stella an imploring look. “Did you happen to notice how late the market stays open tonight?”
“Could we talk about haggis later?” urged Cameron. “Don’t you think it’s more important right now to find out where everyone was this afternoon?”
I stepped closer to Officer Bean, because if Cameron kept forcing the issue, Bill’s short fuse could easily erupt into a full blown—
“I took a walk,” Bill replied calmly, his expression as smug as a champion chess player who was about to squash his opponent. “A nice long jaunt along the riverbank west of here. So if you’re expecting an alibi from me, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have one.” He flashed an oily smile. “It was just me, and swarms of midges.”
“They’re particularly bad this time of year,” Bean agreed, “especially if yer hiking along the river away from the bay.”
Cameron stared at Bean, thunderstruck. “You actually believe him?”
Bean massaged