Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2

Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2 by Maureen K. Howard Read Free Book Online

Book: Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2 by Maureen K. Howard Read Free Book Online
Authors: Maureen K. Howard
ponytail, and minimal makeup allowed a light sprinkle of freckles to decorate her nose and cheeks. It also allowed the dark circles below her eyes to betray the evidence of a sleepless night.
    “Wait a minute. You’re saying Bob was murdered?” Was my scarf somehow used in a crime? I was heading down that dark path of doubt once more.
    Detective Reed’s gaze scanned our breakfast spread and took in every inch of our space, cataloguing each minute detail before coming to rest on the lavender-and-rose designer scarf June had looped around her neck just before leaving our room. I hadn’t even considered the implication of her adorning her casual outfit with a jaunty scarf that morning until Detective Reed honed in on it.
    “Good morning, ladies. I wanted to introduce myself and inform you that I will need to ask both of you some questions later today. I assume you’ll be here in the hotel for the remainder of the morning?”
    As unruffled as always, June recited our entire schedule for the day and then got to her feet, ready to head to the fifth floor for our first workshop. “We’ll talk to you later, Detective. I don’t want to be late. Come on, Francie.”

    Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
    and therefore is winged cupid painted blind.
    A Midsummer Night’s Dream

    A fter taking our seats at one of the long tables in the fifth-floor conference room, I felt like I could relax again. “How do you do it, June? You just blew that detective off and acted like you weren’t even concerned that we’re going to be questioned for the second time in connection to a murder.”
    “Well, we didn’t do it, did we?”
    “No, but still. I think we’re under suspicion.”
    “If we didn’t do anything wrong, they can’t prove that we did. So what’s the sense of getting all worked up?”
    “I guess you’re right. Somehow I always end up feeling guilty even when I have nothing to hide. I suppose we should just try to enjoy ourselves and let the investigators find out who the real killer is. Do you think the person is still here on the island?”
    June didn’t have a chance to answer. A short man resembling a ferret in a dreadful Hawaiian shirt barreled into the room. I held my breath waiting for the sleeping rodent on top of his head to spring to life and bite me, but thankfully the faux hair stayed put, and I was not subjected to whatever hid beneath it. I mean, really, as bad as that thing looked, I had no desire to find out the true condition of his scalp. Weasel Guy pulled a chair from the end of the long conference table and dragged it until he managed to maneuver himself into the space right between June and me. We were the only three people in the room and were now crowded together like the proverbial sardines in a tin.
    “Hi. I’m Eddie. Eddie Sneed. You’re Francie and June, right?” His beady black eyes darted about, never coming to rest on either of us, which may have been a good thing. “Are you the ones who killed that guy in the stairwell? I heard all about you. You caught that killer on Kelleys Island, right? Are you undercover agents? Man, I can’t believe I got into this lecture with you. Everyone was all hyped up about that theater makeup demonstration, but when I saw the two of you signed up for this session, I just had to sign up. If we do a group activity, can I be in your group? Can I help you catch the killer? What are you doing for lunch? I’m free, if you’re planning to do some sleuthing. I’m really good at blending in.”
    “Gooood morning, set designers.” Gabriel swooped into the room with a robust greeting meant for more than three attendees. He missed half a beat in his introduction as he scanned the conference area looking for the rest of the participants, but all he found was two ladies and a weasel-faced man scrunched shoulder-to-shoulder at the center table, surrounded by at least thirty empty chairs. At least Eddie Sneed finally shut his pie hole when

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