Death Clause by Jacquelyn Smith

Author:Jacquelyn Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781989650905
Publisher: WaywardScribe Press

Friday, 11:42 a.m.

I marched into the lobby of the Daisy. Ted was sitting behind the front desk, looking wan and despondent. The smell of strong coffee wafted up from his mug, which he sipped in a listless fashion. I was guessing whichever team he had been rooting for the night before had lost. I leaned across the counter toward him with a dire look with a mango pineapple smoothie in hand, chilling my fingers. (Yeah, I know. I was only supposed to have one. But I figured after the trauma of discovering a dead body, I was entitled to a second.)

“We need to talk. Now.”

Ted visibly shrank back, even though he was at least six inches taller than me. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

“Um, sure. Is there a problem with your room?”

I gave him a flat look. “I went to visit Cat Lady Morris.”

His brown eyes widened. “Oh. Um, maybe we should continue this conversation in private.”

He popped a plastic ‘Back in 10 minutes’ sign up onto the counter with a dull clatter. He gestured for me to join him behind the front desk as he rose from his seat and walked toward his private office. He hesitated before opening the door. An inquiring meow sounded from inside.

“Yes, we need to talk about that too,” I said as I crowded him from behind. “Preferably before Detective Sharp shows up.”

That got Ted moving. He pulled a key from the pocket of his slacks and unlocked the door, ushering me inside.

To be honest, I didn’t know whether Detective Sharp would want to talk to Ted. I had conveniently forgotten to mention my conversation with Susan Ward when giving my statement. (I figured I could always say I had forgotten about it after the shock of finding the body.) I knew Sue would be eager to help the police, and would likely tell them about the whole thing anyway. She would consider it her civic duty. But I had wanted to buy myself some time and keep the detective at least one step behind me. (OK, maybe I was acting a bit like the amateur sleuth in my novels, but I was determined to get some answers.)

Ted shut the door behind me and gave me a fearful look. “I swear, I didn’t kill her,” he blurted. “She was dead when I got there.”

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. Most people would have at least wanted me to prove that they had actually been present at a murder scene before folding like a party table. Which made it fairly unlikely Ted was the killer. He didn’t have the backbone. And if he had done it… Well, it wouldn’t take more than a forty-watt bulb and a harsh look for him to crack like a plumber’s backside.

“What were you doing there?” I demanded.

“Bringing Bernice some dinner, like usual.” Ted’s voice held a pleading note that made me wince.

“Why are you always bringing her dinner?” I waved off his answer. “And don’t just say you’re being nice.

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