Read Online The Name of the Game Was Murder by Joan Lowery Nixon - Free Book Online Page A

on his computer’s hard disk and on backup disks, writers always make at least two printed copies of everything they write.”
    “How do you know all this?” Laura asked me.
    “I read the writers’ magazines.” I turned to Julia for support. “You’re a writer. You do the same thing with your manuscripts, don’t you?”
    Julia’s mouth opened and closed and opened again. “Well, sure,” she said. “My—um—secretary does.”
    Mrs. Engstrom asked Aunt Thea, “Is it true what your niece said?”
    “Yes,” Thea answered. “Augustus always made a second copy of every completed manuscript.”
    “Where did he keep the copies?” the senator asked.
    “He always kept his notes and materials for whatever manuscript he was working on currently in the top drawer of that file cabinet.” She pointed, and we all turned to look. It was the drawer that had been standing open. “Since he said the manuscript had been completed, there should have been two copies of the manuscript in that drawer, as well.”
    Buck peered inside and shook his head. “It’s empty.”
    “Maybe both copies were burned.” Laura’s voice was high-pitched and excited with hope.
    The senator bent to study the contents of the fireplace. “I doubt it,” he said. “Considering that we know there were at least three hundred and ninety-five typewrittenpages in that manuscript, if not more, there isn’t enough ash here to account for two manuscripts.”
    “If there’s another copy, then we should look for it,” Alex said.
    “Do we really want it found?” Laura asked.
    “I think we do,” the senator answered. “It will show up sooner or later, and if it got into the wrong hands, it might pose a future threat.”
    “Are you talking about blackmail?” Buck asked.
    No one needed to give the obvious answer, so Julia said, “We’ll find the manuscript, then destroy it without reading it. Agreed?”
    “Agreed,” everyone said.
    I was glad that none of them asked
me
to agree, because the real reason for finding the manuscript, as far as I was concerned, would be to read it in order to discover which of the guests had a reason for murdering Augustus.
    Buck said, “If Augustus hid it, then it’s probably somewhere in this room.”
    “We could divide the room into sections,” Julia suggested. “Two of us could take the bookcase, two the file cabinets, one the desk …”
    “Ohhh,” Laura murmured. “While … uh … Augustus is still here?”
    I couldn’t stand it any longer and shouted, “You can’t decide to search this room! It isn’t your house! It’s Aunt Thea’s house!”
    Thea moved closer and took my hand. Even though I was upset, I noticed that Mrs. Engstrom moved too, positioning herself in such a way that she blocked Augustus’s body from Thea’s view. She
was
a good friend. I knew thatin the same situation, I would have done anything to help Darlene, and she would have done the same for me.
    “Samantha dear,” Thea said, “what happened to Augustus is horrible beyond belief.” Her fingers trembled, and I could feel shivers vibrate throughout her body. “But I’ve been heartsick at this terrible game—as Augustus called it. I can’t believe that he could have threatened and frightened our guests as he did. It was unforgivable of him. I agree with them that the manuscript should be found.”
    “Before the police get here?”
    There was a slight, silent pause, as though everyone in the room had stopped breathing until Aunt Thea said, “I think, under the circumstances, that finding the manuscript
before
the police arrive would be preferable.”
    That was laying it on the line. I reminded myself that Aunt Thea was one of the game-players, too, and she’d want that manuscript found and all evidence of
her
secret destroyed. I didn’t think that finding and destroying the manuscript was such a good idea, but it wasn’t my house, my secret past, or my husband who’d been murdered. About the only thing I