Read Online Somebody Killed His Editor: Holmes & Moriarity, Book 1 by Josh Lanyon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Josh Lanyon
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course he wanted to meet with you.” You’d think for a high-powered agent, Rachel would be a better liar. “It’s only that he’s extremely busy.”
“This isn’t going to work,” I said. “His mind’s already made up. He isn’t going to be interested in anything I have to offer. I’m going to humiliate myself. More.”
Rachel’s hands fell away from the keyboard. “What are you talking about? That’s not true. Of course he’s interested. He agreed to meet with us, didn’t he? No one bribed him. No one threatened him.”
Why was she looking at me like that? Was she wondering if I had bribed or threatened him?
I glanced away from her tense face and caught sight of J.X. weaving his way through the crowded tables. He seemed to be making straight for us. I couldn’t help noticing—and being unreasonably irritated by—the interest he stirred as he made his way across the sea of herbed chicken and veal medallions and veggie plates, but then attractive single guys are always at a premium at writing conferences.
He pulled out one of the extra chairs and sat down, barely returning Rachel’s startled greeting before leaning across to me. “I thought I asked you to keep a lid on any possible homicide investigation,” he said shortly.
“Speaking of lids,” I returned equally terse, “you’ve flipped yours. I haven’t said a word to anyone.”
“Really? Then how is it everyone in the damn place seems to know Peaches was murdered?”
Rachel’s breath caught.
I said, “Newsflash. Everybody in the damn place was speculating that before we ever left to go find her.”
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Josh Lanyon
“That’s true, J.X.,” Rachel said. As mad as I was, her flat tone caught my attention. She repeated slowly, “It’s true. So…it is true then?”
He glanced at her briefly, as though he’d forgotten she was sitting there. “We won’t know for sure till we get the autopsy results.”
“We?”
“Edgar set up a makeshift radio and I managed to talk briefly to the sheriff’s department. They’ve asked me to…hold the fort till they can get through. Hopefully sometime tomorrow evening.”
“Hold the fort. What a piquant term.” Rachel’s tone was light but her expression was distracted. The bleak look was back in her eyes.
“It reminds me of that movie, Beau Geste ,” I said. “You know, the one where the Foreign Legion mans the fort with dead bodies to fool the Arabs. You don’t foresee that happening here, do you?”
If possible, J.X. looked even more unamused.
“I credited you with more sense,” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t speculate on this in public anymore. It could be…dangerous.”
I couldn’t help noticing that Rachel’s hand shook as she put her wineglass down. She asked, “What do you mean?”
I said to her, “He means it’s safer for all of us if the murderer believes that he or she is getting away with it—at least until the police arrive and can give the rest of us some protection.”
J.X. stared at me for a long moment. His long-lashed brown eyes were rather pretty for a man—the expression in them was anything but pretty.
I nodded toward him, adding, “Unless he’s the murderer. In which case, it’s to his advantage that we don’t—”
“You’re a laugh a minute, Kit.” J.X. rose. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
And with that he was gone. I picked up my empty glass, shook the ice in it, doing my best not to watch him threading his way through the tables. “Maybe that was a threat,” I joked.
Rachel gave a strained laugh. “After all, I suppose he does have a line on this. He used to work for…SFPD, wasn’t it? Some law enforcement agency.”
“The Gestapo?”
Debbie appeared at my elbow with a tray of fresh drinks. I took mine gratefully.
Rachel sipped her wine like she badly needed it, then said, sounding more like herself, “What is it between you two? I’d no idea you even knew each other. Let alone
“This isn’t going to work,” I said. “His mind’s already made up. He isn’t going to be interested in anything I have to offer. I’m going to humiliate myself. More.”
Rachel’s hands fell away from the keyboard. “What are you talking about? That’s not true. Of course he’s interested. He agreed to meet with us, didn’t he? No one bribed him. No one threatened him.”
Why was she looking at me like that? Was she wondering if I had bribed or threatened him?
I glanced away from her tense face and caught sight of J.X. weaving his way through the crowded tables. He seemed to be making straight for us. I couldn’t help noticing—and being unreasonably irritated by—the interest he stirred as he made his way across the sea of herbed chicken and veal medallions and veggie plates, but then attractive single guys are always at a premium at writing conferences.
He pulled out one of the extra chairs and sat down, barely returning Rachel’s startled greeting before leaning across to me. “I thought I asked you to keep a lid on any possible homicide investigation,” he said shortly.
“Speaking of lids,” I returned equally terse, “you’ve flipped yours. I haven’t said a word to anyone.”
“Really? Then how is it everyone in the damn place seems to know Peaches was murdered?”
Rachel’s breath caught.
I said, “Newsflash. Everybody in the damn place was speculating that before we ever left to go find her.”
www.samhainpublishing.com 43
Josh Lanyon
“That’s true, J.X.,” Rachel said. As mad as I was, her flat tone caught my attention. She repeated slowly, “It’s true. So…it is true then?”
He glanced at her briefly, as though he’d forgotten she was sitting there. “We won’t know for sure till we get the autopsy results.”
“We?”
“Edgar set up a makeshift radio and I managed to talk briefly to the sheriff’s department. They’ve asked me to…hold the fort till they can get through. Hopefully sometime tomorrow evening.”
“Hold the fort. What a piquant term.” Rachel’s tone was light but her expression was distracted. The bleak look was back in her eyes.
“It reminds me of that movie, Beau Geste ,” I said. “You know, the one where the Foreign Legion mans the fort with dead bodies to fool the Arabs. You don’t foresee that happening here, do you?”
If possible, J.X. looked even more unamused.
“I credited you with more sense,” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t speculate on this in public anymore. It could be…dangerous.”
I couldn’t help noticing that Rachel’s hand shook as she put her wineglass down. She asked, “What do you mean?”
I said to her, “He means it’s safer for all of us if the murderer believes that he or she is getting away with it—at least until the police arrive and can give the rest of us some protection.”
J.X. stared at me for a long moment. His long-lashed brown eyes were rather pretty for a man—the expression in them was anything but pretty.
I nodded toward him, adding, “Unless he’s the murderer. In which case, it’s to his advantage that we don’t—”
“You’re a laugh a minute, Kit.” J.X. rose. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
And with that he was gone. I picked up my empty glass, shook the ice in it, doing my best not to watch him threading his way through the tables. “Maybe that was a threat,” I joked.
Rachel gave a strained laugh. “After all, I suppose he does have a line on this. He used to work for…SFPD, wasn’t it? Some law enforcement agency.”
“The Gestapo?”
Debbie appeared at my elbow with a tray of fresh drinks. I took mine gratefully.
Rachel sipped her wine like she badly needed it, then said, sounding more like herself, “What is it between you two? I’d no idea you even knew each other. Let alone
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