A Killer Collection by J. B. Stanley Read Free Book Online Page A

instead."
    Molly made a pleasant nest of
envelopes and Realtor advertisements for her cat. He happily relocated onto the
pile and circled himself around until he was in prime bathing position.
    "I swear, you are the vainest
cat in all of Durham."
    As Molly glanced over the glossy
pages of Pottery Barn's fall collection, she felt her body slowly relaxing.
Griffin's steady purring and the whir of the air conditioner soon sent her off
to sleep.
    The sound of the phone ringing
jarred both her and the tabby into an upright position. They both blinked in
surprise against the afternoon light but only Molly bothered to move from the
sofa.
    "Hello?" she croaked
into the phone.
    "Are you asleep when you
should be in here typing up that article?" demanded the grating voice of
her editor, Carl Swanson. He paused to take a drag from his cigarette. "I
expect that piece on my desk by Monday!"
    Carl was an overweight
chain-smoker with a truculent nature and an obsession with the paper's circulation
rate. The entire staff of Collector’s Weekly lived in constant fear of
Swanson’s volatile temper and horrible breath, which was a blend of nicotine
and strong, black coffee.
    "I was at the kiln opening at
dawn," Molly said defensively. "I certainly got enough information
for an article, but maybe a little more excitement than I’d bargained for.
However"—she gave a theatrical pause—"this might be just the article
to help our sales. A famous collector died today, Carl. But that's not all."
She hesitated again, wondering if she was about to say something she would
later regret, but the nagging feeling that followed her home from the kiln
opening would not let go. "I don't think his death was accidental."
    Molly could almost see her boss
sitting up straighter in his chair, the ashes from his cigarette falling onto
his expansive lap.
    "Well? Go on, girlie! Give me
all the details and let's see what we can print!"
    Molly ignored his customary
display of chauvinism and gave him a blow-by-blow account of the morning's
events. Swanson was completely keyed up over the idea of publishing such a
dramatic story.
    "Get in here right away. I
want you to go over the details with Matt Harrison."
    Molly's heart skipped a beat.
"Why Matt?"
    "He went to med school at Duke. Didn't finish, but he's
got some buddies in hospitals around here and we need those medical details to
be accurate. Can't have you writing the wrong stuff and getting us sued."
    Molly scowled at the implication that she would wouldn’t be
able to acquire the correct information on her own and hung up on her boss as
he began one of his lengthy coughing fit. She didn’t Brightening at the thought
of seeing Matt, Molly went upstairs to change her clothes. She wanted to look
her best now that she’d finally be working with the man of her fantasies.
    Twenty minutes later, Molly arrived
at the paper’s office building in northern Durham and made her way to the
ladies’ room, where she applied lipstick and ran a brush through her straight,
dark hair.
    Swanson must have briefed Matt,
for he was waiting for her with his desk cleared, a welcoming smile on his
face.
    "I hadn’t realized you went
to medical school," she began.
    A shadow crossed Matt's face.
"For a little while, but I didn't finish. Listen," he said, hastening
to change the subject, "why don't you tell me everything that happened
this morning. Swanson’s indicated that you believe this collector's death is?
Is that true? Could you explain what you saw?"
    Molly nodded, sensing a strong
amount of doubt in Matt's voice. Still, she related her story once again, and
he listened intently while occasionally jotting down notes on a legal pad. He
was clearly more interested in the details of George-Bradley's demise than in
the descriptions of the pottery or the behavior of the buyers after the rope
was cut.
    "So you heard that he had
diabetes?"
    "Yes, someone in line
mentioned it after he was taken away in the ambulance," Molly said.