The female officer had moved into position behind Bentley, apparently waiting for Sean’s directive. Bentley shifted her stance, throwing her weight onto one hip and leveling her gaze on Sean. “An attorney is an excellent idea, Detective Griffiths. Thank you for the suggestion.” Then, turning toward Lynn, she said, “Lynn, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your ex-husband has been murdered. And you’re a suspect.”
Lynn gasped, both her hands flying to her face. I immediately stood and moved next to her, leaning down and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
Under my arms, I could feel her shoulders expand as she took a deep breath. “I’m not sorry,” she said as she exhaled with a long sigh. I let go and stood back, surprised by her statement. Even more surprised by the fact that she didn’t look upset at all. Instead, she looked . . . what? Relieved? Happy?
“Not another word,” Bentley warned.
But Lynn shook her head, seemingly bent on saying more. “Chuck was a mean, horrible person. And I’m glad he’s dead.”
*
SOON AFTER THAT statement, Sean asked Lynn to come with him to the police station to answer a few more questions. Lynn readily agreed, insisting that she had nothing to hide and that she had no need for an attorney.
“Poor Lynn,” I said, as soon as they left.
“No thanks to you,” Bentley replied. “What were you thinking, Lila? I can only assume the trauma of discovering the body addled your brain. Certainly you know better than to implicate a client in murder.”
“What? You expect me to just keep information like that to myself? The fact that Chuck’s murder and the murder in Lynn’s book were so similar seemed important to the case. Not to mention he was her ex-husband.”
“Important to your fiancé’s case, you mean.”
“That has nothing to do with it. And what about Jodi’s book? Flora said—”
“Let me handle it. Okay?”
“But I feel obligated to say something to Sean. I mean, the guy was killed with one of those automatic nail guns. Flora said it was the same way Jodi killed off the victim in her book. We need to tell the police.”
“And we will. Just as soon as I have time to prepare Jodi. Hopefully, she’ll be smart about it and hire an attorney.” She looked me up and down, possibly trying to decide if I was going to heed her advice or not. “Look, Lila. Just give me thirty minutes or so. It’ll take Detective Griffiths that long to get back to the police department anyway. That’ll give me enough time to talk to Jodi and place a phone call to a local attorney. It’s the least I can do for one of our clients. Then I’ll call the police and tell them what I know.”
“But shouldn’t you tell them right away?” In my mind, I was thinking that if Jodi was guilty, giving her the extra time might hinder the investigation.
Bentley shrugged. “The details of the murder haven’t been released yet. For all intents and purposes, I don’t even know the murder method in her book.”
“Yeah, but Flora told you. And me.”
“Have you read The Billionaire’s Bride?”
I shook my head. I’d been wanting to read it but hadn’t had the chance.
Bentley continued, “Then you don’t really know anything. Like they say in court, it’s just hearsay.”
“I don’t know. This doesn’t seem right,” I hedged.
“Look, Lila. If this were your mother, or your son, wouldn’t you want someone to advise them during such a time?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, when I sign an author into my agency, they become a part of the Novel Idea family. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nodded.
Her face softened a little. “I understand the conflict you’re feeling. You’re going to be married to that detective, after all. But I’m going to protect my family at all cost. Just the same as you would do for your family. Get it?”
I did. And I admired Bentley’s loyalty to her family of authors, but . . .
“Good.” Her brows furrowed as she glanced at her diamond-studded watch. “In the meantime, please go help the rest of the agents relocate the displays in the culinary wing. There’s no reason these unfortunate circumstances need to disrupt our schedule any further.” I could tell by the dismissive tone of her voice that Bentley felt a little angry with me. Not that I blamed her. Bentley’s whole life revolved around the agency. In fact, I’d never heard her speak of any other family. As far as I knew, we were it. Maybe all this time I’d misjudged my hard-driven, tenacious boss. I’d always thought she was motivated by success, the lure of fame, and the final payout. Of course, I was still pretty sure those things did motivate her to some extent, but it was kind of nice to think that perhaps there were some kindred emotions motivating her, too. I liked the idea of everyone at Novel Idea, agents and authors, being one big family. Although judging by the way Bentley was eyeing me, it looked like I might have just become that family’s very own black sheep.