Journaled to Death by Heather Redmond

Author:Heather Redmond
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448303588
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2019-08-26T16:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Mandy set down her fork, then picked it up again to gobble her eggs. Why should she let them get cold? But she found she had lost her appetite. At this point, she couldn’t think of a single person she wanted to see at her front door. Anyone she loved or liked would have come to the back, or at least texted her first.

She hoped Dylan and Alexis hadn’t appeared again. With that unpleasant thought, she slid off her stool and went to the front door, still holding her fork.

When she checked through the door, she saw a single figure. Large, male, imposing. Relief that it wasn’t Ryan’s friends warred with concern for her and her daughter’s safety. No, not opening her door without more information. She flicked on the outdoor light so she could see.

When she peered through the peephole again, Detective Ahola was staring right at her. She reared back, dropping her fork.

‘Everything OK in there?’ he called through the door.

She kicked the fork out of the way. ‘Sorry.’

When she opened the door, he furrowed his brow. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was eating. Dropped my fork.’ She unlocked her screen door.

He stepped into her living room, looking like a modern Viking with that strong chin, prominent cheekbones and fashionable beard. He wore a long-sleeved white T-shirt under a navy quilted vest, form-fitting jeans and hiking boots. He looked ready to scale her mountain.

Her face flushed. Any mountain, that was, of which there were plenty to choose from around here.

He frowned. ‘You OK?’

She put her hands to her cheeks. ‘Hot flash?’

‘Aren’t you a little too young for that?’

‘A lot too young,’ she said emphatically.

He grinned at her, making those model-worthy cheekbones pop. ‘Maybe you’re catching the flu.’

‘I hope not. Some people at work were complaining of body aches. That’s never good news.’

He held up his hands. ‘Don’t touch me.’

‘You’re armed,’ she pointed out. ‘I’d be crazy to come within three feet of you.’

His eyes slitted. ‘Smart.’

She shifted from side to side, testing her joints for aches. Nothing, thankfully. ‘Any Viking marauders in your family history?’

‘No clue.’ The frown reappeared. ‘I have an update. Don’t you want to hear it?’

‘OK.’ She guessed the family genealogy chat could wait for some indeterminate point in the future.

He sat down on her couch without being invited.

Her brain said ‘Manners, manners’, but she was hardly going to suggest a homicide detective might have asked before taking a liberty. She perched on the armchair by the fireplace, waiting.

His blue eyes pierced into her, as if he could read her history on her face. ‘At this time, you are no longer a person of interest.’

She broke into a wide grin. ‘No?’

‘There are good prints on the hammer and on the journal. They match to each other, but not to you.’

She put her hands to her cheeks. ‘What about Vellum?’

He shook his head. ‘Not to her either.’

Vellum appeared in the doorway, her arms clamped across her chest. ‘I heard my name. Is everything OK?’

Mandy gestured to her daughter. Vellum came over and perched on the arm of the chair.

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