All Murders Final! by Sherry Harris Read Free Book Online

car’s round the side of the building.”
    She turned away before I could even say thank you.
    * * *
    It was 10:30 a.m. by the time I stood in the community center on Fitch Air Force Base, the site of the February Blues garage sale. I handed Laura Nicklas, my good friend and the base commander’s wife, one of the two cups of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee I’d swung by and picked up on the way over here. Mine was almost gone, because I’d needed the jolt of caffeine this morning. I dropped my purse in a corner to keep it out of the way.
    Laura took a drink. “Yum. Just what I needed. Thanks.” Laura stood about two inches taller than my five-six and looked a lot like Halle Berry. She’d actually gotten into arguments with people who insisted she was indeed Halle. As if she wouldn’t know she was a rich and famous movie star. Laura had sponsored me on base, which allowed me access after I went to the visitors center, filled out a form, and got a pass to display on the dashboard of my Suburban.
    The security forces were sticklers for procedure, even with people like me, who used to live on base. Usually, the pass they gave me was only good for a few hours, but with the work leading up to the February Blues garage sale, Laura had gotten me a thirty-day pass. Woo-hoo! Now I wouldn’t have to go to the visitors’ center and fill out a form every time I came to base to help with the sale. By showing the pass and my driver’s license to the security guard at the gate, I’d be able to sail right through. It would feel like the old days—just over a year ago—when CJ and I were still married and I had a dependent’s ID that allowed me on base.
    I looked around the room. My status on base might have changed, but the carpet here hadn’t. It was still old and stained, and the crystal chandeliers seemed to be at odds with our purpose, but we were able to use the room for free, so neither of those things really mattered.
    â€œWhy are we doing the sale on a Friday? Aren’t they usually on Saturdays, when more people are off work?” Laura asked. One of the many duties Laura had as the base commander’s wife was running the base thrift shop, so she was savvy about sales.
    â€œThat would usually make sense, but more people are on base during the week because of all the people who commute to work here, so I thought Friday would be better.” I hoped my theory was right. “More people means more sales.”
    â€œOkay. You’re the expert. Where do we start?” Laura asked. “I don’t have much time, because I have to go to mass.”
    â€œLet’s go to the storeroom and measure what size tables are available. Then we can start laying out a floor plan for the room.”
    â€œI hate that creepy storeroom. I always think I’m going to find a dead body in there.”
    I winced, thinking about Margaret.
    â€œWhat? What do you know?” Laura asked. We started walking across the room, which was about the size of an elementary school gymnasium. “Do you know something about Margaret More? Did CJ tell you something juicy?”
    â€œCJ didn’t tell me anything.”
    â€œBut . . . I know you have a but .” And that was why Laura always knew what was going on around base. She was observant, she asked the right questions, or she could stare you down like you were a teenager fibbing about where you’d been.
    â€œI found her.”
    â€œNo.” Laura’s mouth dropped open so far, I was pretty sure her jaw hit her toes. “How’d you happen to be the one who found her?”
    â€œI went to pick up the stuff she was donating for the silent auction.”
    â€œWhere’d you find her? How’d she look?”
    The image of Margaret there in her car, looking so peaceful, floated through my mind. I shuddered. “I can’t believe you asked me that.”
    â€œSorry. I watch too many of the