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Authors: Victoria Abbott

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I let that go even though everyone in my family cares deeply for pretense. “Why does
everyone hate her?”

“Not her per se,” Mick said. “Sure you won’t have just a drumstick?”

“What do you mean, not her
per se
?”

“Well, it’s the family, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Of course, it is.”

“But what family?”

“The Van Alsts, of course. Have you been out in the sun too long?”

“But she’s the only Van Alst left, isn’t she? So she’s the family. So what do people
have against
her
?”

“When the business closed, a lot of people lost their jobs. The local economy took
a real hit. And we Kellys paid a price too, you know. Didn’t we, Lucky?”

There it was. Pretty much the same thing that Lance had said. And pretty much what
I’d known all along. I couldn’t help feeling that there was more to it than that.

“Vera’s paid a price too,” I said.

“So how come she got off so easy over there in her mansion with all her servants living
the high life when so many people lost everything?”

I couldn’t let that go unchallenged. “The high life? Oh please. She’s in a wheelchair,
practically dressed in rags and never leaves the house. I don’t know how easy that
is.”

I decided not to mention that Vera seemed to be selling off paintings and furniture
to keep her collection going and everything seemed to be maintained by one elderly
servant and one aging gardener and handyman. Except for the library, my garret was
the best part of the whole place. I didn’t see any of that creating sympathy.

Lucky shrugged. Uncle Mick rolled his eyes. “You asked me and I’m telling you. That’s
how people feel. You can’t tell people how to feel. The whole reason she has you is
that you can go out and meet people and they won’t hate you.”

“That’s no longer completely true,” I said.

“Well, they won’t hate you because you’re Jordan. Everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone, but thanks for the vote of confidence, Uncle Mick. Could I borrow a
car, Uncle Lucky?”

Mick said, “You know he never refuses you. Which one?”

Sometimes I have to wonder if Lucky would speak for himself if Uncle Mick the Mouth
wasn’t on the job all the
time. Lucky nodded his okay and went back to scratching Walter’s ears. The world really
was full of surprises.

“One more thing,” I said. “I have to run now, but can you check the word on the street
about the postal carrier in the Van Alst neighborhood? Eddie something, if that helps.”

“Eddie who?”

“No idea. How many postal Eddies can there be? I appreciate anything you turn up.
Look for dirt. Bad debts, bad connections, bad habits. I already know about the bad
hair.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I
FIGURED THAT anyone watching might have seen Lucky driving the Town Car during our
sleight of wheels earlier, so I took the Lincoln Navigator that Lucky keeps for large
jobs. It’s a big vehicle for a big man, but I found it fun to drive and it wouldn’t
be recognized back at Saint Sebastian’s if I ran into Nancilee. Plus it was not registered
under any Kelly or Bingham name. Best of all, it had a great air-conditioning system
and, of course, the price was right.

I stopped off at the hospital to see how Karen Smith was doing and was shocked to
discover they still had her in a drug-induced coma, waiting for the swelling in her
brain to come down.

Outside Saint Sebastian’s Hall a fast ride later, I watched as the big-smiling networkers
gradually pulled away. When only one car remained, I pulled in and ducked through
the doors. The girl was lethargically closing up shop at Yummers. I guessed if I had
two black eyes, I’d be moving slowly too.

“Give you a hand?” I said.

She gasped.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have pounced like that.”

“Yeah, I’m jumpy.”

“The attack. I should have been more sensitive.”

“Not just the attack. Everything.”

“Everything?”

Her lip quivered. “My life is a mess. I am falling apart. My fiancé died and I’m having
a lot of trouble dealing with it.”

“What? You mean when you were attacked?” No wonder she was terrified.

She shook her head. “Before. It was an accident.”

I stared at her. A dead fiancé? What were the chances? Was that too much of a coincidence?
Could Alex Fine have been her fiancé?

“I am so sorry.” I might have given her a hug, but she looked like she hurt all over.
“How awful for you. And him.”

She sniffed. I thought back to the newspaper photos of Ashley with Alex. Her face
hadn’t been that clear. I did remember the shot of the donkey-faced girl with the
big teeth. That photographer must have had it in for her because she looked far better
in real life. Well, she had before the attack. Of course she was Alex’s fiancée. Alex
would have frequented this book fair and any others held here at the hall, and she
probably worked at all of them. It would have been hard for them to avoid each other.
He’d been serious and shy, but it would have been easy for him to talk to the very
ordinary girl behind the counter.

I said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I ever got your name.”

She blinked. “Ashley. Ashley Snell.”

“You were engaged to Alex Fine.”

She started to weep. I felt like a total jerk. I reached over and gave her a hug.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She sniffed and tried to pull herself together. I waited
until she blew her nose. She still had a quaver in her voice when she asked, “Did
you know him?”

“I feel like I did. You probably know I now have his research job.”

“With that horrible woman.”

“Yes.”

“I blame her for what happened to Alex.”

I said, “But she wasn’t anywhere near the—”

Ashley trembled, turned the color of plaster and nearly missed the chair she sank
onto.

Before I could come up with some soothing comment, Ashley straightened her shoulders
and said, “She wasn’t there, but she pushed Alex to get that stupid thing. She bullied
him and she mocked him and she made his life miserable. That’s why he took such a
chance.”

Maybe the answer to what happened to Alex was right here in this room. Alex would
have met Karen and many other contacts. Maybe he’d even found the link to Merlin.

I said gently, “What chance did he take exactly?”

Ashley blew her nose again. “Are you serious? He’s dead, isn’t he?”

That was true.

She said, “He gave his life for whatever was in that computer bag. I told the police,
but they didn’t listen to me.”

“Tell me, Ashley, does the name Merlin mean anything to you?”

“Merlin? How do you know about Merlin?”

I waited until she blew her nose again. It took her a while to compose herself. “Alex
said we weren’t to say anything about Merlin. To anyone.”

“Did
he
say anything to anyone?”

She nodded, obviously trying to keep back a tidal wave of tears. Even though I also
felt a flood of sympathy, I hoped those tears would hold off until she finished talking.

“Yes. He did.” A distinct wobble in her voice.

“Do you know why? Or who he spoke to?”

“He couldn’t tell me.”

“Can you take a guess?”

“Alex was very worried about Merlin. I don’t want to talk about it.”

I tried reassurance. “Well, whoever he is, this Merlin doesn’t know we’re having this
talk.”

“I guess not. But he’s supposed to be like a magician, isn’t he?”

“Despite his reputation, he won’t know what we’re saying. We’re alone here.”

“I suppose Merlin the Magician is just in stories. But Alex wanted to buy something
from him and he was really afraid that Merlin would change his mind. Merlin is very
secretive. So Alex was very careful. I think he was worried that I’d blab it to somebody
here at Yummers because I do a lot of events and I see a lot of people. Everyone knows
I can’t keep a secret. I know it’s true. The book people love gossip. It goes like
wildfire around here.”

I had a vision of the plush patterned carpet catching fire.

“Let me give you a hand closing up.”

“Thanks. I don’t want to be alone here. It’s creepy after what happened with the lady
at the Cozy Corpse.”

“No kidding. We can get this done in a couple of minutes.”

I helped Ashley pack up the refreshments and clean the Yummers counters. “So, was
Merlin the reason Alex went to New York City?”

She paused, looking me over as if to confirm she could really trust me. “I think so.
He was going to see someone about something important. But of course, being Alex,
he wouldn’t talk about it. Especially to mouthy me.”

“Is there anyone he would have spoken to?”

She paused, frowned. “I don’t think so. He didn’t work with anyone. He wouldn’t have
told his parents. He didn’t
tell me. He didn’t really have any close friends around here. I guess the only person
who might have known is his boss.”

We stared at each other, because we both knew that we were talking about my boss.

She said, “I suppose you could always ask.”

“Judging by her behavior, I think he was acting on his own.”

“I guess.”

“I wonder if, after I spoke to her, Karen Smith made the connection about who might
have told Alex about the manuscript. Maybe that’s what she was going to tell me.”

Ashley’s mouth dropped. “But even I didn’t know.”

“Would Karen have known about Merlin?”

Ashley took a second to consider that. “I suppose, but I don’t really think so. I’m
not sure she and Alex ever knew each other except for Alex going by her booth. She
wasn’t always one of the regular vendors here. I got the feeling that the contact
knew that Alex was looking for something for Vera Van Alst. I’m sorry I’m not more
help about that. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know. How would I find you?
Oh right. You gave me your card. I’m sorry. I guess I was kind of nasty to you then.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I can see why you were upset. But if you think
of anything, please get in touch. Even though you are afraid to mention it, keep in
mind that whoever attacked you was most likely the same person who almost killed Karen
Smith.”

She paled. “That reminds me, what time was she attacked?”

“Around nine o’clock, Sunday night.”

Her hand shot to her face. “My attack happened around eight thirty. The police took
me to emergency. I think I saw the ambulance bring that lady in. I sat there for about
two hours, but they rushed her right by. Is she going to make it? She seemed so nice
and harmless.”

That made me think. Was Karen Smith harmless? Or was she involved in some way in this
whole crazy business? Had someone tried to kill her because she knew something? Or
was her part more sinister and dangerous?

“I hope she’s going to make it, but there’s no way to know. You might not agree, after
your attack, but you may have been the lucky one. Perhaps someone was trying to kill
you too.”

Astonishment spread over her long face. “But why?”

“Perhaps he thought you might have seen something, some transaction between him and
Karen. Something that you don’t realize is important.”

She gasped. “What if he needed to be alone to attack her? I was about to head back
to the hall to see if there was anything left to do. I always check the facility when
I’m done. The Saint Sebastian’s people are really fussy about everything being left
perfect. If there are coffee cups or anything, I hear about it. The guy was waiting
for me as I got into my car, just by my apartment.”

“That makes sense in a twisted way. He also may have wanted to make sure you didn’t
get back here and find Karen. If she hadn’t been found until the next morning, it
might have been harder to pinpoint the time when she was attacked.”

Ashley shivered.

And she would have died alone, I added to myself.

I said, “If we’re right, that means that whoever did it planned both attacks.” I thought
about what kind of person could have hit Karen on the head and moved her unconscious
body, leaving her to die. It would be the same kind of person who could walk up to
an unsuspecting girl and belt her in the face. “This is one very dangerous dude.”

“I know.” She pointed to her black eyes. “What if he’s still out there?”

“I’ll stay until you’re completely packed up, and I’ll walk you to your car. But—”

She beat me to the punch. “He knows where I live. He was waiting by my car.”

“And were you able to tell the police anything about what he looked like?”

“No. It was all a blur. He wasn’t very tall.”

“Could it have been a woman?”

She shook her head. “No. He moved like a man, but his head was covered with a hoodie.
You know, the police didn’t get too excited about what happened to me. They kept insisting
that my boyfriend did this. What boyfriend is that? That’s why I got so upset when
you asked me the same thing. It sounds crazy, but I thought maybe you were an undercover
cop or something, trying to get me to spill the beans on my dead fiancé or nonexistent
boyfriend.”

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