Ah, the romance agent. Jude and Zach stared at Luella as if they were under some kind of spell. I felt an odd twinge of jealousy.
“A man named Marlette was found dead on this couch.” Griffiths’s tone was solicitous. “Maybe you could tell me something about him.”
Luella brought both hands to her cheeks. “Oh! Oh! Poor Marlette. Such a strange man. But rather a fixture around here.” She sighed. “How did he die?” Her eyes widened as she looked at Griffiths.
“We won’t know until the coroner submits his report, ma’am.”
The stocky policeman suddenly appeared beside Luella and touched her elbow. “Are you all right, Ms. Ardor? Would you like to sit down? I know this must be a shock.” He gently guided her to a chair.
“Why, thank you. You’re just as sweet as a caramel apple in autumn.” She smiled, small dimples appearing in her cheeks, and lowered herself into the seat.
Griffiths looked at me. “Maybe some water?” I pretended not to notice and shuffled the folders of queries on the coffee table.
“Oh, are you the new intern?” Luella suddenly seemed to realize I was in the room.
I introduced myself.
“Nice to meet you, Lila. Could you be a dear and get me a coffee? A skinny latte?”
“I don’t do coffee,” I answered pleasantly.
Luella’s eyes widened, and she quickly looked away. “Eww, what is that?” She pointed to a spot on the floor near her chair.
We all directed our gaze to the place she indicated. Griffiths bent and picked up an object with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s a dead bee.”
“A bee?” I looked at Jude. Maybe Marlette had simply succumbed to an innocent bee sting.
Griffiths examined it closely. “They do fly indoors sometimes.”
Luella perked up. “It could have been inside Marlette’s flowers.” She touched Griffiths’s arm as if she wanted him to appreciate the brilliance of her deduction. “He brought in a bouquet of weeds every day.”
Griffiths’s eyes circled the room. “I see. And where might those flowers be now?”
“Jude threw them out,” I quickly replied as I pulled a tissue out of my bag. “I can take that from you, Officer Griffiths.”
“Thank you for being so helpful, Ms. Wilkins.” He took the tissue with his free hand and then gave my fingers a brief squeeze, causing my pulse to skip a beat. “But I’ll take care of this little insect.”
He smiled, and our eyes met.
“Ahem.” Luella coughed, causing Griffiths to break his keen gaze. “Can I help in any way, Officer?”
“Why, yes, Ms. Ardor.” Griffiths pulled his notebook out of his pocket. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”
She stood up and started toward the hall. “Let’s do that in my office, shall we?” she said, looking back at him over her shoulder with a flutter of false eyelashes.
Griffiths and the other cop were quick to follow her. Zach and Jude hustled behind them. I watched them all disappear down the corridor, the beauty queen and her entourage. Shaking my head, I looked at my stack of queries. Although it seemed somewhat disrespectful, I decided to attempt to focus on work. After all, I still had to prove myself at this job.
I eyed the couch. It would be irreverent, not to mention a bit creepy, to use as a backrest the piece of furniture on which a man had just died. Reluctantly, I gathered the files and wormed my way back over to the student desk. Ignoring my discomfort, I picked up the query at the top of the pile.
In my suspense mystery novel titled No Insurance Against Murder, a woman is found dead in the office of the vice president of an insurence agency. Her cause of death is musterious, since there are no outward signs of physical truama, and no one in the Agency knows who she is.
A chill tiptoed up my spine as the similarities between this poorly written query and the events of this morning crossed my mind. The paper fluttered out of my hand as I sat back and pondered. Marlette’s death was mysterious. In fact, everything about him was mysterious. No one even knew his last name, and he’d climbed those stairs carrying wildflowers day after day. I, for one, wanted to know more.
If only I’d been able to read his query letter!
And then I remembered the wilting bouquet of flowers Jude had been directed to throw in the Dumpster. There had been a piece of paper fastened around the flower stalks. The least I could do was fulfill the last wish of this tragic stranger.
I couldn’t concentrate on the folder of query letters for another second. A man had just died a few feet from where I now worked. I was too rattled to read, but not to hunt down Marlette’s final words.
I tossed my pencil aside and hustled down the stairs. Nothing was going to stop me from reading that query, even if it was too late to help the author. After all, that poor writer was already on his way to the morgue.
Chapter 4