A Viola Roberts Cozy Mystery Collection by Shéa MacLeod

Author:Shéa MacLeod [MacLeod, Shéa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: whodunnit, Murder mystery
Publisher: Sunwalker Press
Published: 2019-03-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

A Clue in Pink

“I can’t believe they think Portia capable of murder. I’ve only met her a few times, but she’s a lovely girl. Then again, darkness can lurk in the most unexpected places.”

I jerked my cell phone away from my ear and glared at it, even though I knew Lucas couldn’t see me. Was he serious? Slapping it back against my ear, I practically shouted, “Listen to me, Lucas Salvatore. Portia did not kill that...jerk. There is no doubt in my mind. And you can take your ‘darkness’ and...and...shove it.”

It was a dumb idea to call Lucas. I thought he’d be supportive. After all, he’d totally had my back at the writer’s conference in Florida. Plus we were dating. Kind of. I was hesitant to call him my boyfriend. It seemed like such a juvenile word. Right now, though, his name was mud.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, his voice a rich baritone in my ear. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but you know as well as I do that people can surprise you. They can be very good at keeping secrets.”

“Not Portia.” Though a seed of doubt had already niggled its way into my brain, which annoyed me to death. No. Portia was innocent of The Louse’s murder. Of that I had no doubt. Some people thought she was snobby or whatever because she always dressed like a runway model rather than in jeans and flannel shirts, but she was a sweetheart. She happened to like pretty clothes and dressing up. What was wrong with that?

“I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” I snapped. “I was right last time, wasn’t I?” Last time being when I found a dead body on the beach in Florida, and Cheryl and I ended up suspects. Fun times.

“Speaking of last time, maybe you shouldn’t get involved this go ’round. You nearly got yourself killed. Perhaps you should step back and let the police handle it.”

I snorted. “As if. I’m not letting my friend rot in jail any longer than necessary just because the police think they know something.” I turned on the tap and rinsed out my coffee mug. “They have no evidence.”

He cleared his throat. “Fingerprints on the weapon seem like a pretty solid piece of evidence.”

“Sure. They seem that way,” I admitted. I swung open the fridge door and stared inside. Empty. I hadn’t had time to go grocery shopping what with my deadline and everything. “But these things can be faked, you know.”

“It’s true,” he admitted. “But according to my research, in most instances—”

“Listen, I’ve got to go,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want to hear anything negative from him. It would only piss me off. “Need to hunt down some lipstick.”

“That’s a new one.”

I laughed. “I’ll tell you all about it later. By the way, when are you headed this way next?” I fidgeted with the blue and white dish towel hanging from the fridge handle.

“I was thinking I’d come by this weekend. We could have some dinner.

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