Read Online Grace Against the Clock (A Manor House Mystery) by Julie Hyzy - Free Book Online Page A

doctor’s date for the evening,” I said. “After we”—I faltered—“after we knew that Keay wasn’t coming back, I got her a drink of water and asked if there was anyone she wanted me to call to pick her up.”
    “And?”
    “A friend is coming. From Westville. She’s stuck here for a while.”
    Rodriguez came around from the right and took a knee next to the corpse.
    Flynn shot a glance at him. “I’ll talk with her.”
    Had I not known Flynn, I would have assumed that the younger detective was eager to swoop in and play knight on white steed to Serena’s damsel in distress. But this guy was all business all the time, and from the glint in his eye, I could tell he intended to interrogate the distraught girl. Serena wouldn’t stand a chance under the detective’s harsh tactics.
    I made it to her side two steps before he did. “Serena,” I said, “this is Detective Flynn of the Emberstowne Police Department.” When she looked up at me through tear-filled eyes, I asked, “Are you doing okay?”
    “I knew he was older,” she said, “but I didn’t think he was old enough to
die
.”
    Flynn whipped out a small notebook and pen. “What was your relationship with the deceased?”
    Serena turned to me, mouth open in surprise, bottom lip quivering.
    “Detective Flynn wants to ask you a few questions,” I said, doing my best to keep her tears from starting up again.
    “You’re a detective?” she said to Flynn. To me, she asked, “Did Leland do something illegal?”
    “No,” I said. “Not that I know of. The police are simply here to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
    She blinked and nodded. Turning to Flynn, she said, “Leland is my boyfriend.” She held a hand up as though to shield herself from seeing Keay’s motionless form on the stage floor across the room. “I mean, he was.”
    Serena didn’t see the judgmental smirk on Flynn’s face, and for that I was grateful.
    “How long were you two a couple?” he asked. Could the man ever pose a question without sounding so snarly? “How long had you been seeing each other?”
    “We had our three-month anniversary last week. I was really excited because he took me to a special dinner and then dancing.”
    I tried to envision that. Couldn’t.
    “Where did you first meet Dr. Keay?” Flynn asked, still taking notes.
    “At a club in Westville.”
    Flynn stopped writing. He looked up. “Dr. Keay went clubbing?”
    She gave a tiny shrug. “I guess. I’d seen him there a few times before we met. He came over and introduced himself one night. We’ve been together ever since.”
    I decided to join the conversation. “Do you know if Dr. Keay needed to take any injections? Do you know if he had any illnesses he was fighting?”
    She shook her head.
    Flynn looked like he was about to cast me away, but remembering the smell I’d noticed when trying to rouse the doctor, I pressed on. “Was he a big drinker?”
    “Oh, no,” she said, eyes wide. “That was the weird part about meeting him at a club. He never touched alcohol. He’d buy drinks for me if I wanted them, but he stuck to soda and stuff.”
    “Really?” I said. I looked over at Flynn.
    He’d fisted one hip and now gestured with the hand holding the notebook. “Oh, please. Proceed with your line of questioning, Detective Wheaton.”
    Ignoring his sarcasm, I continued, “Serena, you saw how he stumbled onstage right before he collapsed. It looked to me as though he’d been drinking. Heavily.”
    “I was with him all night,” she said. “He ordered club soda with a twist of lime from the bartender. That’s all he had.”
    “What about when he left you alone? He could have been drinking then.”
    She gave me a skeptical look, which I deserved. There was no way she could know what he’d done when he’d been on his own. Plus, she pointed out the obvious: “That would have to be a lot of drinking in a super-short period of time. I’ve never seen anybody get that drunk that