A Fright to the Death

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Authors: Dawn Eastman
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not on
opposite
sides, at least on different teams. He viewed me as a civilian until I returned to the police force, but both situations had been too close to home for me to sit back and wait for the murderer to be caught. Now, we were
both
unofficial investigators.
    “So, we start building a timeline and questioning people about their whereabouts?” I asked.
    He nodded. “Maybe not everyone. I’d rather not start apanic by telling them we think it’s murder, but we might not be able to avoid it. I made a list of the people that weren’t with us in the dining room. Remember, Clarissa came in, talked to a few people and left. That was the last we saw of her. Lots of people stayed in that room.”
    I stared into the fire, and pictured the dining room. “Isabel left shortly after Clarissa. Jessica was in and out of the room. René and his assistant weren’t in the dining room the whole time. The maintenance guy and the housekeeper were presumably doing their work elsewhere.”
    Mac poured more tea into my cup. “The only staff member in the clear is Wally. He was in the dining room the entire time we were, and then he stayed with the group when the power went out.”
    “He left to get flashlights,” I said. “But that wasn’t long enough to get upstairs and kill Clarissa.”
    He opened his notebook and read from his list. “We need to talk to Isabel, Jessica, Linda, the chef and his assistant, maintenance, and housekeeping. There’s only one entrance to that turret room, maybe one of them saw something if they were in the hallway.”
    “I think your friend with the lipstick left for a little while.”
    He glanced up at me. “She did?”
    “I saw her get up and go into the kitchen, but I didn’t notice when she came back.”
    He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I shouldn’t make assumptions about who was there.”
    “We know
our
table stayed in the dining room.”
    I sat back and wrapped my fingers around my teacup.
    “Yes, but I didn’t suspect our mothers or your aunt.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “Aunt Vi should never be assumed innocent.”
    “Innocent of what?” Vi said from the doorway.
    “Of murder, Vi,” I said to my tea.
    “Oh, very funny.” She hustled to where we sat and pulled up a chair to get closer to the fire. “Are you making a list of suspects? I think that maintenance guy is kind of sketchy.”
    She leaned over to look at Mac’s list.
    “Nice sweater,” she said.
    Mac held her gaze. He was even better at a stare-off than she was.
    “We were just talking about who was in the dining room the whole time and then also in the lounge after the power went out,” I said to break up the tension.
    Vi nodded. “Wally was there the whole time. He hovered with that water pitcher all through dinner. I’ve never been so well hydrated in my life!” She took Mac’s notebook and examined his list. “The only guests I saw leave were Isabel and Mavis. But I can’t believe one of the workshop gals would have done it. Frankly, knitting is what
keeps
us from killing anyone. It’s like therapy.” Vi shook her head. “It had to be the maintenance guy. Maybe that’s why the power went out in the first place. He was busy killing Clarissa and wasn’t dealing with the generator the way he should have.”
    “That’s a huge leap, Ms. Greer,” Mac said. “The last thing we need is for everyone to jump to conclusions.”
    “We need more information then,” Vi said. She flipped pages in Mac’s notebook. Mac’s fingers clenched. I took it from her and handed it back to Mac.
    “It wouldn’t hurt to start asking people what they saw,” I said. “The longer we wait, the more likely they’ll forget, or talk about it enough that no one will remember what they actually saw that night.”
    “You can start during breakfast,” Vi said. “You should talk to Isabel before she gets involved with her workshop.”

10

    The knitters straggled into the dining room looking somewhat unraveled. With

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