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

realized that the “something” was not an oversize laundry bag, but Bob’s makeshift body bag. I shuddered as I remembered the sound it made as it thumped over onto the floor in front of us and how we hoofed right over it in a hurry to get upstairs.
    “Thank you. Now, can you tell me about your scarf?”
    “My scarf? What does my scarf have to do with any of this?”
    “If you don’t mind, Francie, I’ll ask the questions. Where did you get the scarf?”
    “I got it last year at a drama seminar. There are always some props and costume elements that are given out or sold at discounted prices as incentives from various suppliers. I thought it was pretty, and I bought it, simple as that. As a courtesy, the suppliers engrave or embroider the purchaser’s name on the item and keep it till checkout. That way, nothing gets lost or mixed up.”
    “To your knowledge, does anyone else own a scarf like that one?”
    “How should I know?” I heard the high-pitched tone of my voice and made a mental note to calm down so Reed would not equate my irritation and frustration with her questions to guilt of some kind.
    She ignored my reaction and moved on to her next question. “When did notice your scarf was missing? Do you have any idea where you lost it?”
    “What? It was never missing. I didn’t lose it. Didn’t Angelina tell you?”
    The detective tilted her head and stared at me. “What would Mrs. DeVille have to tell me about your scarf?”
    I explained to her about the wine spill in the DeVille’s penthouse and how Angelina insisted on having it laundered.
    Reed referred to the notepad she was holding and jotted notes I couldn’t see. She questioned me about who, if anyone, had seen us during the time we were caught in the storm.
    “I don’t remember seeing anyone at all while we were out in the rain or when we came back. Let’s face it, no one wanted to be out in that weather, least of all me.”
    “Thank you, Francie. That’s all I need for now. You can go back to your session. You’ve been most helpful.”
    “Okay, but I still don’t see how any of this can be at all useful.”
    The detective kept her gaze fixed on her notebook. “Please send June out, if you would be so kind.”
    I re-entered the conference room, slumped into the chair at the end of the table, and relayed Reed’s invitation to June. She had been chitchatting with Gabriel while doing her best to ignore Eddie without being too obvious. The mood was spoiled. She got to her feet and headed out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

10
    But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve/For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.
    Othello

    T he mood had definitely been altered by the visit from Detective Reed. We were all back in the conference room, but the seating arrangement had been purposefully switched up. When June returned from her hallway interrogation, she made sure there was an empty chair between the two of us and our annoying classmate. Eddie started to speak but must have seen the death rays shooting toward his brain from both directions and thought better of it. Gabriel had been pacing in the front of the room, hands deep in his pockets, eyes dark and brooding. After a minute, he approached our table, gathered up a stack of papers, tapped their edges into perfect alignment, and sat back down across from us. He seemed to understand that we were not really in the right mindset to listen to a technical rendering of the ins and outs of theater set design. After putting his notes in his briefcase, he took a deep breath and spoke.
    “I have a proposition for the three of you. I am in charge of the final night event. It’s a mystery dinner theater featuring attendees of this conference who have signed up to participate and showcase some of their special skills. Why don’t we wrap up early here and meet later, perhaps after the afternoon lecture. The final night dinner will be in the Crystal Theater where you were last night, but it will