Off the Books (Novel Idea, #5)

Lynn’s eyes grew wide and I noticed tiny beads of sweat gathering around her hairline. “But I didn’t kill Chuck. Sloan did,” she whispered.

“You helped her. And to make it worse, you planted the nails in Jodi’s room to make an innocent woman look guilty.” I remembered Cora saying she saw Chuck leaving Jodi’s room that morning. “Why was Chuck in Jodi’s room that morning? Did you have something to do with that?”

She slowly nodded, her eyes wide with worry now. “Yes,” she admitted. “We just needed it to look like Jodi and Chuck knew each other. So, I told him Amanda would probably love a signed copy of Jodi’s book. Chuck was always big on gifts. After a particularly bad fight, he always brought me something: flowers, chocolates, even a necklace once. It would work, too. I’d melt right back into his arms, the same cruel arms that . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again and continued, “Anyway, I told him how crazy women were for Jodi’s books. And a signed copy? Well, that would really be something. I even saved him the money and effort by giving him my copy.”

“The same copy you and Dr. Meyers used to plot his murder?”

The corners of her lips tipped upward. “Ironic, huh?” Then she caught herself, her face softening again. She reached out. “Give me the keys, Lila. Please.”

“I’m not going to do that, Lynn. I want you to go with me to the police. Tell them your side of the story. Dr. Meyers was your therapist; she used you. Manipulated you into going along with her plan. Into helping her commit murder.”

Lynn pulled her hand back, her features sinking and eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “That’s not true. Sloan was my friend.”

“No, Lynn. She wasn’t. She used you. You need help.”

Without warning, Lynn lunged at me, knocking me back against the counter. The keys flew from my hand and landed on the floor. Before I could react, she pounced on them and made a break for it. But just as she reached the back door, it flew open, revealing a police officer with his gun drawn. “Stop!” he ordered.

Then another officer stepped around him and grabbed Lynn, turning her hand, putting cuffs on her wrists. Right behind him came Sean, bypassing both officers and coming straight to me.

“Zach’s upstairs,” I immediately told him. “He might be hurt.” I started for the back staircase. “And Cora’s in the living room. She needs help,” I said over my shoulder.

Sean raced up the steps after me, shouting for another officer to see to Cora and then barking orders for medical assistance into his radio. At the top of the steps, I hesitated. I was facing a long hall, doors on either side. “Zach!” I called.

Olive started barking from down the hall. I ran toward the sound, finding Zach inside one of the bedrooms, sitting on the floor, a dazed look on his face and feathers floating all around his head. Feathers?

“Zach. Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling down next to him. My movement sent more feathers flying into the air.

Above me, Sean was still talking into his radio, explaining our location. “Help’s coming, buddy,” he said, bending down. “What happened, do you know?”

Zach’s eyes rolled around a bit. He finally answered, “She hit me with something. Completely blindsided me.” He waved his hand in front of his face and blew a raspberry. “What in the world?”

I glanced around. Olive had managed to pull the comforter off the bed and was busy shredding it to pieces. Feathers were flying everywhere. “Stop that!” I scolded.

Zach moaned and covered his ears. “Not so loud. Man, my head hurts.”

“You don’t know what she hit you with?” Sean asked.

“No idea,” Zach said, rubbing a spot on his forehead. “Whatever it was, it came out of nowhere.”

As if to answer our question, Olive began nudging her nose at something under the comforter, finally revealing a billiard ball. She sat back, tongue out and panting. Her tail twitching expectantly. I picked up the ball and held it up to Zach’s forehead. “I think we found her weapon.” The shape of the ball was a perfect match for the round welt between his eyes. Apparently Pam was right when she said Lynn was a pool shark. A grin tugged at my lips as I took in Zach’s dubious expression. “Looks like you need to work on that batting average of yours,” I told him.

I laughed. And Sean laughed, too. Poor Zach just moaned.


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