Death on the Coast by M Comley (best book recommendations TXT) 📗

either. If you need art, let me know, and I’ll get someone to run over and snap a pic with their phone.”

“This is really thoughtful of you, Len.”

“Well, I’d hate to lose a good reporter, but that’s not the motivation, so calm down. With you traipsing around town, collecting your friends as amateur detectives, the killer isn’t liable to show his/her hand. You need to be in hiding and let them think it’s safe to come out.”

Lucy contemplated his words. “That actually makes sense, but how can I watch them?”

“Who says it has to be you?”

“Then who?”

“You think I’ve never followed a story?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean that. I take your point.” In truth, she didn’t agree, but the desire to keep her job won out. “Will you keep me updated?”

“Yup. Now, get out of here and leave me alone.”

Lucy made one more stop on the way back to her little basement apartment.

“Hi, I wasn’t expecting you.” Brendon did actually look pleased to see her. “Thought you were keeping your head down.”

“I am. Len told me to work from home, and I’m going back there now. I guess I’m resigned to dealing with recipes and patterns for quilts for the time being.”

“You’re off the story of Angie’s murder?”

“Sort of. Len wants a shot at it. He says I’m messing things up by being around town and letting everyone know what’s going on.”

“He has a good point.”

“Oh, don’t aggravate me, Brendon. It’s hard enough.”

“How is life at Mr. Smith’s?” He changed the subject.

“Actually, not bad at all. I’ve got the apartment where his daughter lived, and the deal is I cook in return for rent.”

Brendon was flipping his watch with his finger. “He mention anything about his daughter, Paige?”

“No, why?”

“She was murdered.”

“Oh my God, I didn’t know.”

“No one does. I checked him out when you said you were staying there. Followed all the leads. He used to live down the coast. She was at home alone one night, and someone broke in. She spooked them, and they shot her. Crazy thing. Turned out to be some stupid kid looking for drug money.”

“But he said she lived in the basement apartment before.”

“Yeah, that’s what has me a little concerned. You have a lock?”

“Yes, his side and mine.”

“It’s probably okay. Lots of people live in their own little world when the real one lets them down. Probably fine, but just be aware.”

“Oh, great, and there I was feeling safe, for a change.”

“No reason you shouldn’t be. He didn’t kill her. He probably just sort of went through a rough mental time and imagined she wasn’t dead, but still living in the basement. She had a basement apartment at the other place, too.”

“Are you sure?”

“You have a better arrangement in mind?”

Lucy shook her head. “Not really.”

“Then stay put unless you feel in danger. Of course, there’s always another option open to you…you could always come stay with me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Probably not. At least not yet.”

Lucy let that comment pass without mentioning it.

“Anything else I can do for you? I need to get back to work.” Brendon was pleasant, but his voice carried a tone of urgency.

“I’d like very much to know what you’ve uncovered so far.”

“I thought we talked about that.”

“You talked about it. I had to, more or less, accept my fate.”

“I think it’s best if you leave the detective work to us, Luce.”

“Brendon, you know me. Is it likely that I’m going to just sit in Jon’s basement and ignore the factors that are controlling my life? That’s like being in prison. For example, are you sticking with the perception that Bertha just fell down the stairs?”

“Any reason I should do otherwise?”

“I suppose not. Makes it simpler for you.”

“Oh, now, Lucy, don’t be like that. You know I have to go by what the coroner says.”

“How about the stuff we found on the trail? Was it part of an eyeglass lens?”

“That much I can tell you. Yes, it was. Now, don’t read anything into that just because Mark wears glasses.”

“Mark! He’s your primary suspect?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s obvious you’re considering it.” She leaned against his door, exhaling forcefully. “You don’t know Mark very well, Brendon. He’s not capable of murder.”

Shaking his head, Brendon argued, “Anyone is capable, given the right incentive.”

“There you go. All the more reason to discount him. Mark is the most confused, lack-of-direction person I know. He wouldn’t have an incentive because he doesn’t think things through that far.”

Brendon looked at her, but clearly he was thinking. “Luce, has Mark ever seen a psychologist, or has maybe the family doctor treated him for any conditions?”

“What are you getting at?”

He pushed aside the pad of paper that lay before him, signaling that they were going off the record. “Could Mark suffer from ADHD or some other condition that could make him behave irrationally from time to time?”

She thought about his question. “No more so than any of us. We did get a little distant now and again.”

“Did Mark have trouble at work?”

“At the school? None I ever heard of.”

“Hmmm…interesting.”

Lucy was instantly on the alert. “What’s interesting?”

He quickly shook his head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything. Listen, you run along and have a good day. You know how to reach me.”

“That felt like a verbal door slamming in my face.”

“Luce, it’s that imagination of yours. Makes you a great writer, but also clouds your judgement. See you later.”

Lucy wanted to stop by Sal’s and have an ordinary afternoon with some needlework, a little gossip, and speculation. Lucy had always been considered one of the more reliable residents since she had her reputation to consider as a reporter. Sadly, that was no longer true now that she was at the center of the maelstrom. Although she’d personally done nothing wrong, everything involved her, and she wasn’t the least bit happy about that.

She decided going to Sal’s was a bad idea. On her way back to Jon’s, she drove by Christine’s house. She would always regard it as Angie’s,