Murder at the Mall: (A Madeline Shore Cozy Curvy Mystery) by Lynn Cooper

Author:Lynn Cooper [Cooper, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Targheda Press
Published: 2017-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“I NOTICED A WHITE glaze on Bluff’s lips,” I tell him, licking mine as I finish the doughnut. “Graham said it was nothing more than dried spittle. But I have a pretty good nose. When I sniffed it, I recognized it was one of Krusty-Creamed’s specialty doughnuts.”

“Hold the phone,” Zeke says, touching his fingertips to his temples. “You’re saying that shortly before he killed Mr. Burrows, our murderer brought him in here for a pastry?”

“That’s what I meant when I said he didn’t necessarily force Bluff to go on this journey. Up until the moment he died, the poor guy probably thought his trip to the mall was some sort of lark.”

“Which means he knew his killer.”

“He did. After leaving the doughnut shop, they went up this spiral staircase and down to the dressing room at Missy’s.”

“Why not just kill him right here in this corridor? Or inside the doughnut shop?”

I smile. “Or back at his house, for that matter? The answer has to be, he expressly wanted to get Bluff to Missy’s.”

I could say more at this point, but I let my words sink in for a few seconds. Give Zeke time to mull this over. I don’t pretend to know everything about men. But one thing I do know is, they don’t like to be shown up—especially by a curvy woman who spends her days crafting.

Looking thoughtful, Zeke steps up onto the staircase. “Well, Miss Shore, on this point I agree with you: the killer was sending a message. Based on what you yourself have just shown me, it’s clear he was sending it directly to Yvonne Ellsworth. He figured she’d be the one who found Mr. Burrows’ body. He found out she’d been having an affair with the councilman. He wanted her to see what happened to anyone who put his hands on her because the killer is her husband.”

“That would be the logical assumption. I know you don’t believe her, but Yvonne insists there’s no way Vince could have known about the affair. According to her, if he had, he wouldn’t have gone through all these machinations. In a fit of blind, jealous rage, he would’ve just killed Bluff wherever he found him.”

Zeke arches one eyebrow. “Maybe he did—right there in Missy’s dressing room. Maybe her husband isn’t as clueless as she thinks he is.”

Uh-oh. He’s not just talking about Vince Ellsworth. Even though I’m dying to know the details of Zeke’s obviously-failed marriage (and if it had anything to do with him showing up suddenly in Slocomb), this is not the time to get into it.

“Maybe he isn’t. But I don’t picture Vince granting Bluff, who has had sex with his wife—six times, to be exact—a strawberry-lemon-glazed cruller for his last meal. Besides, Yvonne says he’s in Europe on business. Most importantly, it doesn’t seem likely the kind of man Yvonne described would go to all the trouble of such a theatrical murder. From the way she portrayed him, it’s more likely Vince would

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