A Murder Among Friends. Ramona Richards

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A Murder Among Friends - Ramona Richards


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run it in the morning. I’m going to see if the guys downstairs need coffee.”

      Air hockey occupied the two men downstairs, however, and Maggie returned as Lily was loading the last of the dishes. She looked around the room, making one more check. The room was almost clean, and Dan and Patrick were finishing their coffee near the fire. Tim must have gone out for his nightly walk around the grounds. But there was still one other body missing.

      Maggie frowned. “Where’s Fletcher? Did he go back to his cabin?”

      Dan shook his head. “Nope. He helped Lily for a bit, then took out the trash.”

      Maggie froze, a slice of fear in her stomach. “He did what?”

      Dan didn’t even look up. “Garbage. He’ll be back in a few.”

      Maggie turned toward the kitchen to find Lily staring at her, puzzled. Maggie just mouthed, Oh, no, when the door opened and Fletcher walked in, his face a dark mask and one gloved hand holding an empty Dom Perignon bottle. He stopped, then looked from Maggie to Lily, and back. “Call Tyler, Maggie. Tell him I’ve found the murder weapon.”

      From the kitchen came a small gasp as Lily sank to the floor.

      THREE

      Judson was insistent that the crime scene be secured, since it was far too easy for forensic evidence to be contaminated. He’d seen too many cases lost simply because the investigators had been careless. Catching a criminal was hard enough without sloppy procedure.

      “It was in the trash can,” Fletcher said.

      Maggie sat on the deck steps, huddled in an oversize coat, as Fletcher explained to police chief Tyler Madison how he’d found the bottle. Inside, Lily was stretched out on a couch with an ice pack on her head, but the other residents had returned to their cabins, puzzled and annoyed.

      Fletcher frenetically demonstrated his actions as he talked. Tyler’s eyes tried to follow him, but Maggie just stared, amazed at the sudden burst of energy in the detective. She now realized his calm demeanor, his control, was a part of his work. Underneath was a strong passion, just waiting to break through. No wonder he and Aaron had been so close, she thought. They’d both shared the same love of life, of their work.

      The lights from the house cast long golden pools across the deck and down through the yard, with the rails and slats of the deck creating lines of darkness on the ground. Fletcher walked in and out of the shadows with his pacing, like a large dog behind a fence. “I went to put the bag of garbage in the can,” Fletcher said, “and I noticed the neck sticking up. I thought it might poke a hole in the bag, so I went to move it and saw the blood, then the fact that the label was damaged. That’s when I realized the flakes found in Aaron’s wound might be from the label.”

      Tyler nodded, his hat a little unstable on his head. “We’ll have to send them off for analysis. We’re not set up for anything like this here.”

      “The blood, too.”

      “Of course.” Tyler crossed his arms, and Maggie looked from him to Fletcher, as if they were tennis players. The younger man had gotten his job six months ago when the previous chief had died, since he was the senior member of the five-officer police force. Yet he was still not quite thirty, and his inexperience seemed to shine.

      Fletcher paced back and forth a few minutes, then stopped in front of Maggie. “Maggie, why?”

      Tyler stepped in. “Now, wait a minute, MacAllister—”

      Fletcher exploded. “Can’t you see? She was alone with him for over half an hour. She threw the bottle away. She moved the body. I want to know why.”

      Maggie finally exploded in the face of his building temper, his relentless accusations. “I did not move his body! He was like that when I found him. He was dead! I couldn’t even bring myself to touch him. I barely remember what happened! How could I move him?” She stood up. “Don’t you dare blame me just because you’re hurting, too!”

      Fletcher stopped, clenching his fists as he stared at her. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, obviously trying to regain control. “Then why hide the bottle?”

      Maggie threw up her hands. “Why do you even ask? You know why!”

      Fletcher’s words were crisp. “So why are you protecting Lily?”

      Maggie froze. “Because she didn’t kill him!”

      “Didn’t she? Don’t you think so?” Fletcher bent over her, his questions flying fast, directly at her face.

      “No! She couldn’t!”

      “Why not? Aaron was hit on the right side of the head. That means it was most likely a left-handed assailant. Lily’s the only one here who’s left-handed.”

      Maggie shook her head furiously. “No! You don’t understand. There’s no way!”

      “Then why did you toss out the bottle?”

      Tears filled Maggie’s eyes. “Because I knew how it looked. The blood—but the blood was already on the bottle we’d had earlier. I knew everyone would think like you do—”

      “How long has she called you Mitten?”

      “Since we were kids—” Maggie stepped back, eyes wide, her hand over her mouth.

      Fletcher backed off, staring at her. She watched as he blinked rapidly, studying her, and saw the understanding come over his face. “You’re sisters.”

      “Say what?” Tyler demanded.

      “Is that why you’re protecting her, Maggie?”

      Maggie shook her head, an overwhelming weakness settling over her. She sank down on the steps. “Yes. No. No! You don’t understand. It’s the other way around. And it’s not.”

      Fletcher sat down next to her. “Explain it to me.”

      Maggie took a deep breath, resolved for it to come out. “I went to college. Lily went to Broadway. Bit parts, a few films, a show here and there, not a lot of money but enough, for about five years. We didn’t see each other much, even though we were in the same city. And there was no press. No one cared. Then she made Ramsey Place, then Blue Ribbon Winner, then—” Maggie stopped and wiped her face with her hands. “Her career went up and her personal life went down the drain. She was followed everywhere she went. She was stalked. People broke into her home to steal her clothes!” Maggie sat up straighter and motioned around her. “By the time things really got hot, I was already here. This place has no security, but it’s remote and hard to find. She had lied and said she had no family. My dad died before I was born and my mom married Bobby Dunne when I was only one, but they never changed my name—” She stopped, her hand waving away the past. “It’s a long story, but it worked. The press left me alone. But we traded off. Sometimes I would hide her here for weeks. That’s how she met Scott. She’s still being stalked, in fact, which is why she’s staying here with him. It’s one reason she started drinking. She can’t handle the fame, much less the fear.”

      “What about her career?”

      Maggie shrugged. “Right now it’s in the drunk tank. Her agent stays in touch, sends her scripts, begs her to go to rehab before it’s too late. I hoped being here would help. She’s got to stop drinking.”

      “Who knows you’re her sister?”

      Maggie buried her face in her hands. “No one. Not even Scott.”

      Tyler crossed his arms. “But you look so different.”

      Fletcher waved away the objection. “Just the hair and eyes.” He made a circular motion around his face. “Here is the same.”

      Maggie sighed. “My dad had red hair—I got the auburn from him. Lily has her hair straightened.”

      Fletcher stared out into the woods. “How long has she been


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