Penned In - Lynn Cahoon Page 0,9
“Improbable.”
Ian slowed down and looked at her. “Marty seemed to be the only person with a grudge. Who would kill someone after having a very public fight?”
“Exactly.” Angie didn’t say anything else. She was working it out in her mind. It didn’t make sense to take the phone and the key unless they didn’t want anyone to get out. Which meant one thing to her. The killings weren’t done.
When they got back to the common room, Estebe stood up and looked at Felicia who moved closer to Hope. It was obvious to Angie that their newest chef was having problems dealing with this death. She’d been around death before, but she’d never seen the body after life seeped out of it and on to the floor.
The two guards finished examining the body, moved it inside the library and shut the door behind them. They stayed inside the room for a while.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Felicia leaned over the table toward Angie.
Angie shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling about this. If one or both of them are the killer, they could be destroying evidence.”
“With a room full of witnesses?” Estebe scoffed. “I don’t think they are that dumb.”
“Maybe, but I am concerned about the missing key and phone. If the killer is the only one with a phone or the key to escape, what’s preventing him from just leaving us in here forever?” She met everyone’s gaze but no one answered her at first.
The fourth guard came out from the hallway. “I can answer that. The doors are all unlocked at six am, no matter what. It was a safety feature that the historical society insisted on setting up before the first lock in. They didn’t want something bad to happen and it be on their watch.”
“Where have you been?” Angie asked the man. “And what’s your name? You never introduced yourself.”
“Sorry, I’m Glen. I was getting the honeymooners settled. Did you know that both of the other couples just got married today? They’re friends and I guess they came straight from the courthouse. I don’t think we’ll see any of them until the alarm sounds for the end of the lockdown.” Glen chuckled as he glanced around the table. “Why are you guys down from your cells? Did you need coffee or something? We have several sets of cards in the library if you want to play, but the light isn’t really good here in the community room.”
“There’s been a murder.” Hope said, her tone subdued, but at least she sounded calm. “Do you have the phone to call for help?”
“A murder?” Glen chuckled. “Is this a game? Which one of our prisoners got it? Or were they the killers?”
The door to the library opened, and Marty and Bridget walked out. They walked over to the table and Bridget sank onto a bench. “The key’s not with him.”
“Wait. Pat has the phone and the key. Are you telling me that something happened to hard as nails Pat?” Glen looked from Bridget to Marty. His gaze went to Hope. “That he was murdered?”
“He’s dead. I don’t know how, but yeah. And the phone and key are gone.” Marty studied Glen. “Unless you have them.”
“No man, I wasn’t scheduled to be responsible for another hour.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe the last thing I said to him was ‘Stop being a jerk’.”
Chapter 4
“Should we wake up the others?” Felicia glanced around the table. The remaining guards looked shell shocked.
“Why? So they can be as scared as we are?” Glen stood and took his cup over to the coffee pot that Bridget brought out of the employee break room. He emptied the pot, then started to make a fresh pot. “I can’t believe this really happened. Especially on this night. We shouldn’t have let them schedule a tour tonight.”
“What’s so special about tonight?” Matt played with a deck of cards he’d found in the break room. No one had wanted to go back in the library.
“Glen, that’s just urban legend,” Bridget warned.
Glen came back to his place at the table and pointed his cup in the direction of the library. “Tell that to Pat over there.”
“It’s stupid.” Bridget insisted.
“Tell us the story.” Matt pressed. “We’ve got eight hours until the doors unlock. We might as well be entertained.”
“You might regret that statement, but I think it’s an avenue of interest.” Glen sipped his coffee. “So we told you about Lyda. What