Murdered by Words: Midwest Cozy Mystery Series Read online

  “Oh no, not Nancy! She’s the one who invited me to her holiday party where you and I met. I am so sorry, anyway, stay where you are. Lock the doors on your car. I’ll get over there as fast as I can. I should be there in just a few minutes. If you feel faint, put your head between your legs. Don’t talk to anyone or do anything until I get there. Promise?”

  “Yes, please hurry,” she whispered. When Blaine pulled up several minutes later, she was sitting behind the steering wheel of her car, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Have you called 911 or anyone else?” Blaine asked urgently when she opened her car door.

  “No,” she said, gulping. “For some reason the card you gave me last night was next to the phone in my purse, and for whatever reason I called you.”

  “I’m glad you did. I need to call Frank Michaelson, the chief of police. Sorry, Kat, but he’s going to want to talk to you and so will a few of his men. Does her husband know?”

  “No one knows, except the person who did this. Carl and their daughter need to be told. Her daughter’s in the same sorority as my daughter, Lacie. What should I do?”

  “Nothing for the moment. Nancy’s name won't be publicly released until the next of kin are notified. I’ll tell Frank, and he can decide what he wants to do. Just stay where you are. I’ll call him now,” Blaine said, stepping away from her car.

  Kat sat in her car and absent-mindedly stroked Jazz who was shivering and shaking. At some level the little dog seemed to know something terribly wrong had happened. She finally stopped whining and settled down. Kat saw Blaine talking into his phone and shortly after he had finished the call she saw the flashing red and blue lights of a police car. It was almost immediately joined by three other police cars.

  A large man got out of one of the cars and walked over to Blaine, who gestured to the car where Kat was sitting. Blaine motioned for her to join them. She got out of her car and left Jazz in it. She was a little unsteady on her feet and Blaine gently held her elbow. The big chief of police looked at Kat and said, “Kat, I remember you from when we had a class in school together. I didn’t associate the last name of Denham with you. I knew you by your maiden name of Liggins. Sorry, my mistake.”

  “No problem. I’m not thinking very clearly at the moment, anyway.”

  “Kat, I want to take a statement from you, but first I need to go in the house. Where did you find Mrs. Jennings?”

  “She’s in her office. There’s blood all around her, and it looks like she has a gunshot wound in her chest.” Kat put her head in her hands and started sobbing again. “Why would anyone want to kill Nancy? It doesn't make any sense to me.”

  “Stay here, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He gestured to the three policemen who were standing by their cars waiting for the chief's instructions. They followed him into the house. The chief returned a few minutes later and said, “I’m sorry, Kat, but I do need to talk to you. Can you go into the house, or do you want to talk to me out here?”

  “I really don’t want to go back in there. Could we sit in the chairs on the porch instead?”

  “Yes. While I was in the house I called a couple of people from my office to come and dust the house for fingerprints. We'll need to get yours as well. It's just a formality.” Frank, Blaine, and Kat sat down on the padded porch chairs. Frank was the first to speak. “I’d like you to tell me why you were here and what you saw.”

  “I was supposed to meet Nancy here at her house at 3:00 this afternoon. I knocked and rang the doorbell, but no one answered. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I kept calling out, but there was no response. I thought maybe she was concentrating so hard on whatever it was she was doing that she didn't hear me. I walked down the hall and went into her office. My dog started barking, and that's when I saw her.” She again covered her face with her hands and began sobbing.

  “Kat, why were you meeting Nancy today?”

  She was quiet for several moments and then she began to speak in a soft voice. “I’m an author, and Nancy was my editor. We were going to discuss my latest book.” She avoided looking at Blaine.

  “Kat, you never told me you were an author. When you called me a few minutes ago, you said your editor was dead. I couldn’t figure out what you meant,” Blaine said. “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything last night.”

  She looked from Blaine to Frank and then back at Blaine, knowing that what she was going to say in the next few minutes might be the kiss of death for having any type of a relationship with him. “I don’t write under my name. I use the pen name Sexy Cissy,” she said quickly. “Nancy was my editor, but she didn’t want her husband to know, so you won’t see any of my books in her bookcase.”

  “You’re Sexy Cissy?” the police chief asked incredulously. “I can’t believe it. My wife’s a huge fan of yours. Think it’s one of the reasons our marriage has had a second start. She loves your books.”

  “Guess I’m the one in the dark, here,” Blaine said. “Obviously I don’t know anything about this, but I’d be very curious to have you tell me how you started writing books with that pen name, Kat.”

  “I will, but I don’t think my books are relevant to Nancy being murdered.”

  Just then a car raced into the driveway, a man flung the door open, and ran up the steps. “Chief, one of your men just came to my office and told me Nancy has been murdered. Is that true? Where is she? I can't believe this,” Carl blurted out with a stricken look on his face.

  Frank walked over to him and put his large hand on Carl’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you found out that way, Mr. Jennings. I try to make it my practice to personally tell the decedent’s family when someone has died, but since this is a murder case, I had to stay here and make sure everything is being done properly, so we can find out who did this. Your wife is in her office. I'll go in with you.”

  After they left, Kat looked at Blaine and said, “If you want to cancel our date for the dinner dance, I'd understand.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

  “Well, word is bound to get out that I'm Sexy Cissy. As a matter of fact, from what I heard today it’s already out. Anyway, I don't want to embarrass you.”

  “Kat, I’m fifty-two years old. I rather think there’s not much in your books that will shock or surprise me. This isn’t the time or the place, but if we do develop some type of a relationship, and I’d like to, it might make it interesting. Don’t worry about me.”

  He stopped talking as they heard sounds of shouting coming from inside the house. “She’s responsible for my Nancy being murdered. Nancy should have never edited the filth that woman writes. Mark my words, she did it, or she knows who did it. She probably killed Nancy when Nancy told her she wouldn’t be her editor anymore because of the smut she writes. I demand you arrest her for murder.”

  The door burst open and Carl strode out of the house and pointed a finger at Kat, tears streaming down his face. “I know you’re responsible for Nancy’s murder. I told you to leave her alone, but you didn’t, did you? Did you shoot her when Nancy told you she was through working for you? She was too good for you. Mark my words, I'll make sure what happened to Nancy happens to you.”

  “Carl, those are pretty harsh words. Don’t think we need any threats being made after what’s happened here. Is there someone I can call for you?” the chief asked.

  “Yes, you can call my brother, Doug Jennings. His phone number is on the refrigerator. He’s retired and only lives a few blocks from here.”

  “Wayne,” Frank said to the policeman who had followed Carl out of the house, ready to restrain him if it was necessary, “call his brother and ask him if he can come over here right now. Tell him there’s been a family emergency.”

  Carl stared angrily at Kat for several moments and then went back in the house. Blaine and Kat heard Carl tell the chief that when his brother got there the two of them would go over to the sorority house and tell Carl's daughter, Nicole.

  Blaine turned to K
at and said, “Let me check with Frank and see if it’s okay for you to leave. Why don’t I follow you home? Are you sure you can drive, or would you like me to drive you home?”

  “I’m okay, but I really do want to get home.”

  He returned a few minutes later. “Frank said you’re free to go, and he’ll call you if he needs any more information from you. He asked that you call him if you think of something else.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Kat opened the front door of her house and let Jazz in. “Please come in, Blaine. I'm really torn about a few things, and I’d like to talk to you about them if you don’t mind. Have a seat, and I'll be back in just a minute. I need to let Jazz outside.”

  “No problem. I need to call my office and tell them I won’t be back for the rest of the day. It’s already five-fifteen, so they’ve probably figured that out and may have left for the day.”

  When she returned, he said, “You’ve had a grueling couple of hours. May I get you a drink or a glass of wine?”

  “Thanks," she said as she sat down on the plaid couch in the family room which was attached to the kitchen. "There’s an open bottle of white wine in the refrigerator, and I’d love a glass. If you’d like something stronger, look in the cabinet above the refrigerator. There’s mix in the frig.”

  A few moments later he handed her a glass of wine and took a sip of the drink he’d made for himself. “Kat, there’s something you need to know. I received an anonymous call at my office today from someone who told me they thought I should know that you and Sexy Cissy are the same person. I didn’t pay any attention to it at the time, but now I wonder if it had something to do with Nancy’s murder. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me how this whole thing came about?”

  For the next hour Kat told him about writing her first book out of fear that the insurance money her husband had left her would run out, how she’d met Nancy at the sorority house, and how popular the books she wrote had become.

  “I’ve never read one of your books, so I think I’ll probably go on Amazon tonight and get one,” ...

  She interrupted him by saying, “I’ll be back in a minute.” She returned with a paperback in her hand. “Take this. It’s my latest book. I’d autograph it for you, but given the circumstances, that doesn’t sound very appropriate.” She handed the book to him.

  He looked at it and then over at her. “Nice cover of a cowboy and a beautiful woman. Is that your trademark?”

  “Kind of, and I have no idea why I started writing about ranches, farmers, and cowboys. It just seemed to work. I write a series called the Lusty Women Series, and all of the books in it deal with women who live on ranches and the cowboys or farm workers that develop relationships with them. The one Nancy was editing was a little different in that although the woman lived in town, her husband was a banker, and they owned a ranch. She was having an affair with a ranch hand who also worked at the local country club. I guess they've struck a chord somewhere, because the sales of my books have pleasantly surprised me. I was worried I'd be flipping hamburgers in some fast food restaurant by now, but the book sales have definitely kept the wolf away from my door.”

  “I’m glad for you, but I’m a prosecutor, and there are some things that are beginning to make me nervous. First of all, I get a phone call at my office about you, and secondly, the decedent’s husband accuses you of murder. Is there anything you can tell me about the reaction of readers to your books?”

  She began by telling him about Susie, her hairdresser, and what she had told Kat about the woman named Sally Lonsdale, who was greatly opposed to the book because of her religious beliefs. She told Blaine about the conversation her friend Bev had overheard between Sally and Susie.

  “I’ve heard of Sally Lonsdale,” Blaine said. “Your friend Bev's husband, Jim, mentioned to me one time that he plays golf with Sally’s husband, Bob Lonsdale. He told Jim his wife had gone over the deep edge concerning anything related to the topic of sex. He said he was thinking of leaving her because she was obsessing over the subject, and although she’d always been quite religious and conservative, in the past few years she’d become almost rabid about the subject.”

  “I’ve met her a couple of times,” Kat said, “but I can’t say that I really know her. What I’m beginning to get concerned about is that my name and reputation are being drug through the mud, and that was even before I found Nancy lying dead on the floor in her office with a bullet hole in her chest. I can just imagine what they’re going to say when they find out I was the one who discovered her body. Carl certainly thinks I’m guilty, and while I’ve always been a proponent of free speech, since that’s what I always say when I get a bad review for my books being too close to erotica, I don’t like Carl being able to tell everyone I should be arrested for killing his wife. That doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “Kat, you know you can’t stop people from talking. It’s simply human nature. This will be a very juicy topic for people for quite some time, at least until the killer is caught. Once the murderer is arrested you’ll become yesterday’s news. Now, is there anyone else you can think of that might be considered as a suspect? So far we have Carl and Sally who possibly thought the only way to stop you was to murder Nancy."

  “I find it hard to believe that Carl would even think of killing her. After all, he was her husband and the father of their daughter."

  “I wish I could tell you those things don’t happen, but the fact of the matter is they do, and with regularity. Actually, in a case like this two things are usually looked at first by police investigators. Number one is who has the most to gain by committing the murder. That would point to both Sally and Carl. Secondly, law enforcement usually looks to the spouse before they start with anyone else. Kat, I can see from your expression that something’s going through your mind. What are you thinking?”

  “I had a phone call this morning from someone who evidently felt threatened by my soon-to-be-published book. She said she could lose everything she had if the book was published because everyone would assume the female character in the book was her. She said her husband would divorce her, and she’d be banished from the Junior League. That fits into your scenario.”

  “Yes. Just tell me one thing. Is she a member of the country club?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Well,” Blaine said, “The call I got this morning must have come from someone who saw us together last night. Other than that, there’s no reason to assume we even know each other. Following that line of thought it has to be the wife of a golfer or a golfer herself, since the dinner was only open to the golf club members. Would that fit with the person who called you?”

  Kat was quiet for a moment and then she said, “Yes. It certainly would, but I have no idea where to go with that information. I also know that Barbara, the gossipy dining room hostess at the country club, gave the woman a copy of my manuscript.”

  “Where did Barbara get it?” Blaine asked.

  “Evidently it fell out of Nancy’s tote bag when she was having lunch at the country club last week, and Barbara copied the manuscript and gave it to her.”

  “Kat, my brother’s a private investigator. He’s very good and very discreet. Although he does work all over the United States, he lives here in Lindsay, so he might be able to help clear your name and reputation. You could give him the names of Sally, Carl, and the other woman and see if he can come up with anything. While a lot of the private investigators today rely exclusively on computer searches for their information, he’s pretty old-fashioned and likes to physically nose around and see what he can find out. Here’s his phone number. If nothing else, it’s a start. I’ll tell him to keep his fee low as a favor to me,” he said laughing as he handed her a card with his brother's contact information on it.

  “Well, thanks to my books, money isn’t quite the problem it was, but I appreciate saving money any way I can. If he can help clear my name, it will be money well spent.”

  Blaine st
ood up. “Kat, I don’t quite know how to sugarcoat what I’m going to say, so I'll just say it straight out. I think you’re in danger. Evidently there are at least three people who don’t like the type of books you write, and quite possibly there are more than just those three. A woman has been murdered. We don’t know if Nancy's murder is linked to your books, but it seems safe to say there may very well be a connection. Do you own a gun or have an alarm system here at the house?”

  “I have an alarm system, but I usually never bother to set it. Lindsay is a pretty safe place to live, particularly in this area of town. Jazz is great about barking if anyone is on the property.”

  “Jazz is adorable, but if someone was intent on harming you, a ten-pound ball of fluff is not going to be a very good deterrent. Please, start setting your alarm. That might help. What about a gun?”

  “Greg always kept one in the house. When he died I put it in a cabinet in the garage. It made me nervous. I was always afraid I might shoot Lacie if she came home unexpectedly. Oh dear, that reminds me. I've got to call her.”

  “Why don’t you wait until I leave before you call her. I’d like to go out to the garage with you now and get the gun. Do you know how to shoot it?”

  “Yes, when Greg got it he insisted I learn how to use it. We used to go to the gun range outside of town.”

  “Were you any good?” Blaine asked.

  “Actually, I was very good. Greg thought I should enter some shooting competitions, but as I said before, guns make me nervous. I really don’t want anything to do with them.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to get over that. From now on you need to keep your gun with you at all times, even in your purse when you leave the house.”

  “Aren’t you being a little melodramatic?” Kat asked.

  “I don’t think so. Now let’s go out to the garage, and then I need to get back to the office and finish some work.”