“Oh, I did. And how about that almond joy sundae? That was to die for.”
For the next forty-five minutes, conversation flowed back and forth, mainly focusing on Tex and Marge’s daughter Odelia and Odelia’s boyfriend Chase Kingsley. People finally started showing up, though they were in no great hurry to take their seats, instead opting to chat with friends and acquaintances. For most people these Author of the Month evenings were more an excuse to socialize than tocome and listen to an author read from their work.
Just then, there was a soft yelp coming from the conference room. Marge immediately whipped her head around. She listened for a moment, but when no other sounds came, she relaxed again.“I better go and see if Burke has arrived yet,” she said.
“I’ll come with you,” said Tex.
“No, you better stay here and welcome the guests,” said Marge.
She retraced her steps to the conference room. Chris Ackerman was still where she’d left him, seated in his chair on stage. Only he seemed to have fallen asleep, his notes having dropped from his hands and scattered all around him on the floor. Oh, my.
“Mr. Ackerman?” she said, threading a path through the chairs. “Are you all right?”
Even from ten feet away she could see the star of the evening wasn’t all right at all. The first sign that something was amiss were the drops of a dark crimson substance splattered on the sheets of paper on the floor. Even before it dawned on her what those drops represented, her eyes fixed on a strange object protruding from the writer’s neck.
It was the golden fountain pen, its nib now deeply embedded into the man’s neck.
The world’s bestselling writer… was dead.
Chapter 1
Odelia Poole, star reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette, wasn’t used to being wined and dined in quite this fashion. Chase Kingsley, her boyfriend and local cop with the Hampton Cove Police Department, hadn’t just taken her to any old place. Ever since he’d asked her out, he’d been highly secretive about the itinerary for their date, and only when he’d picked her up in his squad car and entered the Villa Frank parking lot had she caught on that this wasn’t going to be a quick burger at the local diner but an actual fancy date.
Good thing she’d dressed up for the occasion, her off-the-shoulder red pencil dress pretty much the fanciest thing she had hanging in her closet. She’d bought it on the instigation of her mother, who insisted she have at least one nice thing to wear for galas, movie premieres, chamber of commerce banquets orthe occasional fancy reception. Her usual costume consisting of jeans, T-shirt and a sweater the dress made her feel slightly self-conscious, especially since there was some bust involved. Watching Chase’s jaw drop when he’d come to pick her up had been more than enough to dispel those qualms, though.
“You look lovely,” he said, not for the first time.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she purred.
That was an understatement. Chase, usually a jeans-and-check shirt man himself, had gone all out as well, dressing up in an actual tux for the occasion. His long dark brown hair was combed back from his brow, his square jaw was entirely free of stubble, and his muscular frame filled out that tux to the extent that Odelia had no trouble picturing what he looked like underneath. Then again, the man was no stranger to her bed. Or at least he hadn’t been until her grandmother had decided to move in and cramp his style.
But now that Gran had moved out again, the coast was clear, and it was obvious that Chase intended to move in on a more permanent basis—possibly the whole reason for splashing on a night at Villa Frank, one of the more posh places in Hampton Cove.
She took a sip from her wine and felt her head spin. It was more the way Chase was looking at her right now than the alcohol, though, his green-specked blue eyes holding a promise that she hoped he intended to keep.
“So what movie have you picked?” she asked.
“I thought I’d go with a golden oldie.Bringing Up Baby.”
“Ooh! I love Katherine Hepburn.”
“What about Cary Grant?”
“He’s fine, I guess,” she said with a coquettish flutter of her lashes. In fact he was more than fine. Cary Grant had always been one of her favorite actors. More than today’s movie heroes, he had charm, style and charisma and that elusiveje-ne-sais-quoi.
“Phew. I hoped you’d like my selection.”
“I love it.” She didn’t mention that she’d already seen the movie about a dozen times on TCM. On the big screen it would look even better, of course. Their local movie theater was holding a screwball comedy retrospective and she was happy Chase was a fan, too.
“So what do you think is Cary Grant’s best movie?” she asked now.
He pressed his napkin to his lips. Their menu had consisted of shrimp scampi and lobster stuffed flounder with a side of pasta and marinara sauce and brickle for dessert: toasted almonds, ice cream and whipped cream. A real feast. And the evening wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
“I like the Hitchcocks best,” Chase said.“North by Northwest, To Catch a Thief, Charade…”
“Charade isn’t a Hitchcock,” she told him. “It’s Stanley Donen’s Hitchcock homage.”
Chase grinned.“Of course you would know that, Miss Movie Buff.”
“I likeArsenic and Old Lace. Oh, andMr. Blandings Builds His Dream House, of course.”
“Huh. I thought you’d have gone for the more romantic ones.”
“I guess I’m a funny girl at heart,” she quipped.
“Yes, you are,” he said, and gave her one of those looks that made her melt like the toffee-flavored ice cream on her tongue. “Not only funny but smart, beautiful, compassionate…”
Her cheeks flushed, and not just from the fireplace they were sitting close to.“Keep this up and I just might let you get frisky through the second act ofBringing Up Baby.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
She dug her spoon into the caramel-colored ice cream.“Is it just me or is it hot in here?”
Chase cleared his throat.“I heard your grandmother moved back in with your parents?”
And there it was: the reason he’d asked her out on a date in the first place. Or at least that’s what she hoped. They’d been going out for months now, and it was time to put their budding relationship on a more permanent footing. Since Chase bunked with Odelia’s uncle, having not had much luck renting a place of his own in town, moving in with her was the logical thing to do. And oh boy was she ready. And she’d just opened her mouth to confirm that her grandmother had, indeed, moved back in with her folks when both of their phones started to sing in unison.
“Huh,” said Chase with a frown. “It’s your uncle.”
“My mom,” said Odelia with a smile, and tapped the green Accept icon. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?” When the garbled words of her mother flowed into her ear, though, her smile quickly vanished. “Wow, slow down. What are you talking about?”
“He’s dead!” Mom practically shouted into the phone. “Chris Ackerman is dead and now they think he may have been murdered and that I had something to do with it!”
As her mother explained what happened, Odelia fixed her gaze on Chase, whose jaw was clenching while he listened to what Uncle Alec, the town’s chief of police, had to say.
Looked like Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn would have to take a rain check.
Chapter 2
I won’t conceal I was having a tough time at it. To be honest I don’t think I’m cut out to be a teacher, and teaching a bunch of unruly cats was definitely not my idea of an evening well spent.
“We’ll watch it again until you discover when Aurora picked up the all-important and vital clue,” I said, and tapped the rewind button on the TV’s remote. When my audience groaned loudly, I added, “And no buts. If we’re going to do this, we need to do it right.”
“But, Max!” Brutus cried. “We’ve seen this movie three times already!”