Murdered by Words: Midwest Cozy Mystery Series

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Murdered by Words: Midwest Cozy Mystery Series Page 10

by Dianne Harman


  “I was able to find out who he is. He’s a well-known porn star, and a source of mine told me Tiffany’s been having an affair with him since she went back to acting in porn movies. Evidently she films weekly, and when she’s finished, she always meets him at his condo. He’s married and get this, his wife is the owner of the porn studio. My source said his wife doesn’t have any idea that he and Tiffany are having an affair.”

  “Wow! What do you make of all that?” Kat asked.

  “Tiffany certainly would have a motive for not wanting your book to be published. From what you’ve told me one of the characters in your book belongs to a country club, is younger than her husband, and is having an affair. She certainly might have been afraid that when people read the book knowing that you wrote it and you belong to a country club, that someone would think it was her and might tell her husband.

  “It looks like her lover isn’t going to divorce his wife, at least that’s what my source said. His wife is older and he’s kind of her boy toy. She makes a lot of money from the porn studio, and he’s not about to walk away from all that money in order to be with Tiffany. Evidently this isn’t the first woman he’s had an affair with. My source said that when his wife finds out, he promises to be faithful and that it will never happen again. She takes him back every time, and then the cycle starts all over again. Tiffany must know he’s not going to marry her, and if her husband left her, which he probably would, she’d have nowhere to go, and her life would be ruined. In other words, your book threatened to completely upend her life.”

  “Yes, I can see where she would think that. And who knows? I may have subconsciously drawn that character from Tiffany, although I certainly had no factual basis to believe she was having an affair, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I ever even thought about it. I don’t know what to do with this information. Nick, what do you think?”

  “In cases like this, I usually advise that you don’t do anything for the time being. Something will probably come to a head sooner or later and you can make a decision then.”

  “Thanks, Nick, that’s good advice. Anything else?”

  “Not at the moment. I'm going to be working on a couple of other cases today, but if you think of something, give me a call. There's not much more I can do with your case right now.”

  “You’ve done an excellent job in a very short period of time. I'll see what the next couple of days bring, and then I’ll get back to you.”

  “Okay. Be careful if you have to go out today. My wife said the streets are a mess. It’s the first bad snow storm of the year, and a lot of people forget what it’s like to drive on snow and ice.”

  “Thanks. I do have to go out, but I’ll be careful. Talk to you later.”

  Kat looked at her watch and decided she had enough time to give Bev a call before she left to see Barbara at the country club. A few moments later she heard Bev’s voice. “Hi, Kat, what’s up with you on this snowy day? I’m going to make a big fire in a few minutes and do nothing but read a book while I’m sitting in front of it keeping warm.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Wish I could join you,” Kat said. “Actually that’s kind of why I’m calling. Remember how we talked about my writing at lunch the other day and that Nancy was my editor? As you know she was murdered. Some people think it might have been tied to my book, and that I should be very careful. I got a big protective Rottweiler guard dog yesterday, so actually I feel pretty safe with him around. Bev, I know you’re an avid reader and that you majored in English Literature in college. Have you ever done any editing?”

  “No, but it’s something I've always been interested in. Why?”

  “I need to find an editor and rather than look for one on the Internet or ask other authors who they use, I was wondering if you’d be interested in being my editor. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to read the books of mine that you ordered, but when you do, I’d like you to see if they’re the type you think you might enjoy editing.”

  She was interrupted by Bev. “Kat, I’ve already read them, and I love them. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than be your editor. When do you want me to start?”

  “That’s great. I’d like you to start as soon as possible. I’d hoped to get The Country Club Cover-Up ready for publication in a couple of days, but with Nancy’s death, I never got her editing notes. Tell you what. I’ll email you a copy of the manuscript. You can read it and make notes. If you spot typos or verb tense errors, you can edit those right on the copy. If it’s something to do with a character or the plot, I’d prefer those to be noted separately. By the way, this is a job, and I’ll pay you for doing it. Based on what Nancy’s husband thought of the type of books I write, I feel I have to ask if editing this genre would be a problem for Jim. Given everything that’s happened, I certainly wouldn’t want you to do it if he objected to it.”

  “Not in the least, and don’t give that a second thought. He’s one of the most liberal people I know. He could care less what I read as long as I enjoy it. I’d be willing to bet there are a lot of people in this town who read your books even if they don’t admit it. You don’t ever need to feel guilty about them. Look at it this way. No one is forcing anyone to buy a certain book. Kat, you’re a very good writer. I became thoroughly engaged in each of your books that I read because the dialogue, the characters, and the plots were so good. Don’t ever apologize for what you write.”

  “Thanks, Bev. I really appreciate hearing that. I hate to admit it, but during the last couple of days I’ve been having second thoughts about the types of books I’ve been writing.”

  “Well, forget it. When can I expect to get that manuscript from you?”

  “I’ll get it off to you right now, and I’m so glad you agreed to do this. Thank you so much.”

  “You don’t need to thank me,” Bev said, “I’m the one who should be thanking you for thinking of me. I can’t wait to get started. I might even have something for you as early as tomorrow. Talk to you later.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Kat drove into the parking lot of the country club at 1:15 and wondered if they were closed because of the snow storm, since the parking lot was almost empty. “Rudy, there’s no need for you to come with me. I’ll be perfectly safe at the club.” She opened the door of her car and gasped as a frigid blast of freezing wind almost blew her over. She walked up the steps, holding tightly onto the railing, afraid that beneath the snow that covered the steps was a sheet of ice. The snow was coming down so hard it was almost blinding her. She opened the door and stepped inside, grateful for the warmth.

  She saw Barbara standing at the hostess stand, but there was no one else in the dining room. Kat walked over to her and said, “Hi, Barbara. I guess I'm the only one stupid enough to brave the storm.”

  “I wouldn’t say you were stupid, but it looks like we’re going to remain empty all day. The manager just told me I could leave at 2:00 this afternoon if no one comes in. I’m surprised you ventured out for lunch today.”

  “Barbara, I’m not here for lunch. I want to talk to you. It looks like I picked a good day for it since no one is here.”

  “Sure. We can sit at a table, if you’d like. I usually stand during the entire time we’re open for lunch, so I’m always ready to sit down.” She led Kat to a table that was near the hostess stand and said, “We can sit here. If anyone comes in, I’ll be able to see them, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “We talked earlier this week about the manuscript of mine that fell out of Nancy’s tote bag and how you made two copies and gave one to Tiffany Conners and one to Sally Lonsdale. You also said you had given the original to Carl Jennings, Nancy’s husband. Correct?”

  “Yes. That’s what I told you.”

  “Did you keep a copy for yourself?”

  Barbara avoided eye contact with Kat and looked down at her hands as she began twisting them, clearly agitated. She cleared her throat, obviously reluctant to an
swer Kat’s question. Finally, she looked up at Kat and said, “Yes.” Then she began to speak rapidly. “I think I told you my husband lost his job, and money’s real tight for us right now. I love to read, and I haven’t been able to afford any books since he’s been out of work. I figured if I made an extra copy of the manuscript for myself, I’d get to read your book for free and no one would know. I took the extra copy of the manuscript home and read it. Mrs. Denham, I didn’t give it to anyone else, it was just for me.”

  “I understand,” Kat said. “Being a reader, if it was me I might have done the same thing. Here’s what's worrying me. Some people think Nancy was murdered because she was my editor, and whoever did it didn’t want to see my book published. If that’s true, there’s a strong possibility that my life might be in danger. As a matter of fact, just yesterday I got a large Rottweiler guard dog who’s with me all the time, at least everywhere but places I know are safe for me, like here. I left him in my car.”

  “When I was growing up, I had a Rottweiler dog,” Barbara said. “They’re a wonderful breed. I remember how protective my dog was about me. Once when I was riding my bike a boy rode by me and kicked my bike. My dog grabbed the boy’s pant leg with his teeth and caused him to fall off of his bike and scrape his leg. His father demanded that we get rid of the dog, or he’d go to the police and file a complaint. My parents decided they had to get rid of the dog. All of us were so sad. The poor dog couldn’t help it, because he was just doing what he was hardwired to do.”

  “That's a sad childhood memory. I hope your parents found a good home for him.”

  “They did. They put an ad in the paper, and as soon as it came out a farmer in a small town not too far from here called and said the dog would be perfect for him. He had a large fenced yard, but since there weren’t any houses nearby, he always worried something might happen to his wife and children when he was off working in the fields. He wanted to get a guard dog and asked if he could bring his family to meet the dog. They came that very day and took him home with them. I'm sure he had a very good life.”

  “I’m glad. I’ll have to remember not to ride a bike when Rudy’s with me,” Kat said smiling. “Barbara, here’s what I'm concerned about. If Nancy was murdered because of my book and someone wants to make sure it’s never published, and if they find out you have a copy, you could be in danger.”

  Barbara’s eyes grew wide as she comprehended what Kat was saying. “Do you really think someone would try to hurt me because I have a copy of the manuscript?”

  “I don’t know, but I wanted you to be aware of the possibility in case anything out of the ordinary occurs. Have you had any strange calls or is there anything else you can think of that might be suspicious?”

  Barbara was quiet for a moment and then she said, “The only thing that’s a little strange is that I got a call from Tiffany Conners yesterday. She asked me if I’d made any extra copies of the manuscript. I lied and said no. I didn’t want her to think I’d do something like that. Then she asked me if I had returned the original manuscript to Nancy. I told her I hadn’t given it to Nancy, but instead I’d given it to her husband, so he could give it to Nancy. At the time I wondered why she’d want to know.”

  “So do I. Do you know much about her?”

  Barbara involuntarily looked around to see if anyone could hear her, but no one except the two of them was in the empty room. The club was eerily silent. “I shouldn’t say this, but I don’t think she's as much in love with her husband as she pretends to be when she’s with him.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well,” Barbara said. “It’s nothing she’s said, but I’ve noticed she smiles a lot at other men when her husband’s playing golf, and she’s waiting for him in the bar. A couple of the men have bought her drinks and talked to her. As soon as she sees her husband she leaves them and goes to another table, like she’s been sitting there alone just waiting for him to finish his round of golf. She always runs up to him and kisses him. It’s obvious he’s crazy in love with her.”

  “What else have you heard?” Kat asked.

  Barbara seemed very uncomfortable and said, “I’ve probably talked too much as it is.”

  “If there’s something else about her you think I should know, please tell me. I’m trying to find out who murdered Nancy, and although I’m not at liberty to tell you everything I know, I can tell you that Tiffany is a person of interest. Please, Barbara, both of our lives could possibly be in jeopardy.”

  “Well, you didn’t hear this from me. Johnny, one of the bartenders, was clearing the table next to where Tiffany and Pete Hammond were sitting. You know, he’s the club’s tennis pro. Anyway, Johnny heard Pete tell her he’d open his garage door, and she could drive in when she went to his house the next day. Johnny was pretty sure what that meant.”

  “What did he think it meant?"

  “Probably the same thing you’re thinking. It sure seemed like Tiffany was going to visit Pete, and I don’t think it was for a tennis lesson."

  “Hmmm. If that’s true, do you think her husband has any idea about what’s going on?”

  “Not from the way he treats her. I've never understood how these older men believe that their young arm candy wife is really in love with them. Why can’t they see that the women are just in it for their money? It’s pretty obvious to everybody else.”

  “I don’t know, but maybe men like that have blinders on when it comes to age and money. Or maybe they feel it’s a fair trade. They get a beautiful younger woman on their arm, and in return they share their money with their new young wife. Come to think of it, it actually is a fair trade. Each one of them is getting something. In a strange way it’s kind of like a business deal. Barbara, I’ve got to meet someone at 2:00, and it may take me longer than usual to get there with this storm, so I’m going to have to leave now as it’s getting close to two o’clock. If you think of anything else or if you feel something is strange, please give me a call. Here’s my cell phone number.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Kat drove through the snow-clogged empty streets of Lindsay to Nancy’s house, pulling into the alley behind it as Nicole had instructed her to do. The strong wind had blown away the snow that had probably been in the alley earlier. She remembered teasing Nancy about painting the doors of the garage red. Nancy had responded that red doors were good luck, and if the front door of her house could be red, so could her garage doors. Kat smiled thinking about Nancy’s comment that she was sure none of her family would ever have a traffic accident because of the doors being painted red. Kat drove her car to a space between the house and the garage, noticing that Nicole’s little red car wasn’t there yet.

  “Rudy, sorry to do this to you, but you’re going to have to go in with me. Oh dear, I remember something Nancy said about how Carl wanted a big dog, but they weren’t sure whether Nicole was allergic to dogs. I have no idea if they ever had her tested, but think you better stay on the covered porch until I find out. I completely forgot about that when I let Jazz come in with me the day I discovered her body. Anyway, you’ll be shielded from the snow and since the porch has glass sides, it shouldn’t be too cold. Let’s go.”

  Kat got out of her car, and Rudy followed her up the steps and onto the porch. She bent down and took the key from under the mat and opened the door. When she closed it behind her she thought she heard voices in another part of the house. The sounds were coming from Nancy's office. She walked toward it, and although she knew she’d heard the voice before, she couldn’t quite place whose voice it was.

  “I don’t know why you came here today,” the voice said. "I thought you college girls just partied all the time, but I can’t let you live after finding me here. I’ve got the manuscript, and now I’m going to have to kill you just like I killed your mother.”

  Kat peeked around the corner of the door leading to the office and saw Nicole sitting in a chair. Tiffany Conners had a gun in her hand, and it was pointed at Nicole. As Kat tr
ied to step back and away from the doorway she tripped over the throw rug in the hall and fell to her knees. Tiffany pointed the gun at her and shouted, “Stand up, Kat, and get in here, or I’ll shoot you. I did a western type movie once, and I became a crack shot. If I shoot you, I won’t have to waste a second shot to kill you.”

  Kat stood up and walked into the room, wishing she hadn’t left Rudy on the porch and her purse with her gun in it in the car. So much for vanity, she thought, I didn’t want my new leather purse to get wet from the snow. Heck of a lot of good the gun does me when it’s in the car and I’m in here.

  “Sit down in that chair next to Nicole. Guess I’ll have to kill you, too,” Tiffany said with a maniacal laugh. “You’re the one who wrote the book. I’ve found the original manuscript, and I’m going to burn it. I burned my copy, and I told Sally Lonsdale that book should never be published, and I would be happy to burn it to make sure it wasn’t. She agreed and gave her copy to me. With you dead, now it will never be published.”

  Kat didn’t know what else to do but to try and keep Tiffany talking. It was a ploy she always used in her books when the heroine needed a little extra time to wiggle out of a tight spot, and it seemed like the only thing she could do now.

  “Tiffany, I know you think that the character in my book, Chastity, is you, but I never based her on you. I'll make you a deal. If you let Nicole and me go, I promise that book will never be published. No one will ever think you’re Chastity.”

  “How stupid do you think I am? I never got to be the wife of the town banker by being stupid. I may not have some fancy schmancy college degree, but I've got street smarts, and they’re worth a whole lot more than some diploma.” Just then, all three of them heard sounds coming from the back of the house.

 

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