“I need a coffee,” he said. “How about you?”
I nodded and scanned the publisher’s outline as I accompanied him to the kitchen. It was a vague summary of the proposed plot, with little detail about the setting or characters. The potential ghostwriter would have to read The Alexandria Society in order to obtain the necessary background information. But I couldn’t think about the project now. “I’m glad you told Bentley that you were too busy to work on this immediately,” I said as I held out a mug for Jude to fill. “My brain is so full at the moment that I wouldn’t be able to focus on this.”
“Yes, I understand you’ve gotten yourself involved in the murder investigations of that New York editor and the writer in Dunston. Is that because you have a secret desire to be a detective?” He drew closer. “Or because of your friendship with that cop, Griffiths?”
“Jude, the deaths of those two women are a serious matter. I want justice for them both, and if there is any way that I can contribute to the police arresting whoever was responsible, then I’m going to do that.” I put my coffee down and crossed my arms. “Don’t kid around about it.”
Jude immediately stepped back and adopted a contrite expression. “I’m sorry. You’re right. These killings have hit too close to home. The author was one of Flora’s, wasn’t she? Doesn’t this harken back to last summer?” He leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee.
I stirred cream into mine, regretting that I’d dwelled on the subject. “Tell me about the author you’re about to sign,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood.
Immediately, Jude perked up. “He’s coming in this afternoon.” He checked his watch. “In about ten minutes, actually. Vicky’s prepared the final contract for his signature and then we’ll be ready to rock and roll. This guy can write, Lila. He’s dark and sinister, to be sure, but there’s a definite market for his stuff. I know of two publishers who will probably engage in a bidding war over this book.”
“Wow. That’s great.”
“And I have you to thank for it. You brought me his proposal last week.”
“Really? Which one?” I often brought queries to Jude when they were more suited to his tastes, and since I didn’t read them in great detail, they seldom stuck in my mind. Thinking back, I tried to recall what I had given him. All of a sudden I felt a chill and grabbed Jude’s arm, causing him to slosh his coffee.
“Hey, careful,” he admonished, wiping at the spill with his hand.
“Are you referring to that query I gave you just before the book festival?” My voice shook.
“That’s the one. The author is—”
“Kirk Mason?” I spit out the name in horror. “Jude! You’re about to sign a contract with a murderer!”
Chapter 14
JUDE LAUGHED ONCE, AND THEN SEEING THAT I WAS deadly serious, set his coffee cup down on the counter and grabbed my hands.
“Lila, what on earth are you talking about?”
I was glad he had a tight hold of my trembling fingers, because his grip seemed to be the only thing keeping me on my feet. Fear had turned my mouth dry and I searched for words, for the nouns and verbs and conjunctions I needed to explain myself, but they had become elusive, flitting out of my head like spooked starlings.
“Look at me,” Jude commanded gently. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Numbly, my gaze wandered over his shoulder to the rooftops beyond the kitchen window. The sun was barely visible behind an oncoming bank of dark thunderclouds. It would be storming soon. And with the storm and the lightless gloom, Kirk Mason would arrive. A shadow among the shadows.
“He wrote about a building used as a field hospital,” I stated mechanically. “I remember the stained floorboards and the character’s fascination with blood. That author’s name was Kirk Mason. It’s a pseudonym, Jude. The guy’s real name is Justyn and he’s a killer. He hit Melissa with a brick and strangled Tilly Smythe in the middle of her own kitchen. I’m sorry that I didn’t share my suspicions with you earlier. I had no idea you’d end up offering him representation.” My voice became low and cold. “And now he’s coming here. We have to be careful. We could all be in danger.”
I didn’t wait for Jude to respond but pulled my hands away from his and rushed into my office. Grabbing the phone, I called Sean, my heart threatening to beat right out of my chest. Where was Mason right now? Was he outside the building? In the lobby? Or was he already climbing the stairs?
“Sean!” I cried the moment I heard his voice. “Kirk Mason is heading to the agency. Jude offered him representation and he’s scheduled to appear in person and sign his contract. He’s coming. Please, you’ve got to help me!”