A Conventional Murder Read online

  Megan’s stomach fluttered in sudden fear and a chill ran up her spine. Had the world ended without their knowing? Had Seattle been bombed? Had there been an earthquake the bus riders hadn’t felt because they were in a moving vehicle on the road? With a feeling of doom, she turned to read Lily’s messages next. If there was something she needed to know about, if they were the last people on Earth, Lily would have told her.

  OMG have you heard? the first message read.

  There was a pause of two minutes before the next message.

  Are you out of range?

  Another pause.

  You must be out of range. OMG Megan. Another body.

  They found a body in the river, out by Addie’s park.

  One of the travel writers here for the convention. Dead. Max thinks it looks suspicious. Possibly conked on the head and drowned.

  Call me when you get back!

  OMG!

  Addie’s park would be the Adeline Rose Emerson Memorial Park, named in honor of the first wife of the founder of Emerson Falls. Megan felt herself breathing shallowly. She turned to Devin in the seat behind her.

  “You heard,” he said, seeing the haunted look in her eyes.

  “Someone you knew?” Megan asked. “My friend didn’t tell me much.”

  “Yeah,” said Devin. “Patrick Bates. Great writer. Really great writer.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Did you know him?” Megan asked. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, no,” Devin quickly said. “I didn’t know him. Never met. He was Europe. I’m US, like I told you. Today would have been the first time our paths crossed.” He shook his head. “Man. You never know. You never know when it’s your last day. I tell people all the time, carpe diem. Carpe vitae.”

  “Seize the day. Seize the life,” Megan translated.

  “You know your Latin,” Devin smiled.

  “I know vitae, anyway,” Megan said. “I like that. Seize the life.” She re-read Lily’s messages, as if the words would have changed or given her more information the second time around. “That’s strange, though,” she said. “If he was a Europe writer, why was he out at a random convention in Emerson Falls?”

  Devin shrugged. “No idea. Maybe he was seizing the day.”

  “Bad timing,” Megan said. “If he hadn’t seized the day, he might still be alive.”

  A broad smile burst across Devin’s face. “You’re ruining my motto,” he said.

  “Sorry,” Megan laughed. She liked this guy. Was it wrong to flirt with him? Sure, someone was dead, but neither of them knew the victim. Life had to go on, didn’t it? “Hang on,” she said. “I’ll see if I can find out anything.”

  Quickly she tapped out a message to Max.

  Do you know any more yet? Everyone on the bus is getting texts. We’re on our way back. See you in a bit.

  Then she replied to Lily.

  OMG! OMG! I hear it’s a travel writer named Patrick Bates. Is that right? Who found him? Why do they think it looks suspicious? Are they sure he drowned?

  Immediately Megan saw the three little dots that indicated Lily was replying, so she watched the phone and waited. Soon, the texts started flying in. Whereas Megan was more likely to send one long text, Lily was a serial texter, one short message zipping in after another, especially when she was excited.

  Yes, Patrick Bates, Lily wrote.

  Travel writer

  Here for the convention

  They think he was hit on the back of the head

  and then shoved face down into the river

  If not killed by the hit, then drowned

  gruesome

  so horrifying

  Investigating as homicide

  Megan cast a look at Devin, who was watching her face as she read. “They think it’s a murder,” she said, locking eyes with him in mutual shock, and then she tapped away at her phone again to Lily.

  Do they know when? How long has he been dead? Can they tell?

  The three little dots appeared again momentarily, and then Lily’s responses started flying in again.

  Not sure

  Probably overnight

  Just hearing tidbits

  Hurry home!

  Megan glanced up at the bus driver, humming in ignorance of the turn of events, driving a safe speed along the curving road. It was all she could do not to head to the front of the bus and tell him to speed up.

  Another body. Hit on the back of the head. Face down in the river. A travel writer. Someone these people knew.

  She’d solved a mystery before in town. Her Nancy Drew instincts were kicking in. She was on the case.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AS THE BUS drove into Emerson Falls, they passed by Rae’s Pub, the local hangout owned by the woman who had contributed the sticky buns to the morning’s event. A handful of non-locals—convention attendees, Megan assumed—were sitting in the outside seating area, looking lost, dazed, disturbed. Megan longed to stop and talk to Rae. Rae had a way of finding out everything. If a couple was getting divorced, Rae would know before even the husband or wife did. If a woman was pregnant, Rae would have baby gifts bought before the pregnancy test was even complete. If someone was murdered, well, surely Rae would know something.

  But Megan was now back in work mode, and Max was waiting.

  Emerson Falls was not a large town. Most of the people on the bus were actually staying at a nearby hotel, just a few miles away. A few were staying with Lily, and of course Kendall would be staying upstairs at the library. But for now, Max wanted everyone at the library, so the library was where they would go.

  The bus turned down the long driveway that led to the enormous building, and Megan felt a familiar rush of joy and gratitude that this was where she got to live. Years before, the fourteen-thousand-square foot structure had been a mansion, the vacation retreat of Edison Finley Wright and his then-wife. As a way of sticking it to his ex, who loved the home and thought its size proved her importance, Edison had given the home over to the community. The bottom floor, which looked directly out onto the Skagit River, housed the conference rooms that would soon be filled with travel writers and bloggers. The expansive main floor with its luxuriously high ceilings held the library. And upstairs was the best part: the upstairs rooms had been converted into living space for the Library Director—Megan—with additional suites for occasional guests. It was in these guest rooms that Kendall Perkins would be staying.

  Men in hard hats with accompanying construction equipment currently were swarming around the far end of the building—previously the vast garage. With funding from various sources, this space was now being converted into a community theater. For a while, there had been talk of turning that space into hotel rooms, to house people coming to use the conference area. But then the chain hotel had moved in just a few miles down the road, and the hotel talk ceased. Megan was relieved. A theater literally in her backyard was a thrilling idea. A hotel had been a less exciting proposition. As it was, the construction crews were kind and considerate, never starting work too early in the morning, diligently cleaning up their messes, and always being thoughtful of noise and impact. Megan mused that maybe she should get Rae to make some sticky buns for them, as well.

  The bus pulled into the large parking area and people started gathering their items, confused about what was going on but ready to get off the bus. As the driver shifted into park, Megan stood and addressed the passengers.

  “Everyone, can I have your attention?” she said, suddenly at a loss of what to say. “Everyone, I think we’ve all heard by now about the tragedy that has come upon one of your colleagues. I know you’ll probably be wanting to get to wherever you’re staying, but the local Deputy, Officer Coleman, asked me to bring everyone here.” Megan looked outside the bus and saw that her employee Owen, who was in charge of coordinating the convention space, was waiting for the bus door to open. A rush of relief washed over her. By now, Owen would know more. He would have talked to Max, and would
know what Max wanted. She motioned to the bus driver to let Owen in. He did, and the young man hopped up the stairs until he realized such hopping might seem inappropriate in light of a murder. He slowed his step.

  “Do we know more yet?” Megan said quietly to Owen.

  “Just getting started. Max sent me out to bring everyone downstairs.”

  Megan nodded and raised her hand to get the passengers’ attention again. In the short time it had taken for her to greet Owen, everyone had started talking and texting again.

  “Everyone?” she said, but no one looked up. Trying not to glance at Ginny, Megan let out a strong, fierce whistle that broke through the air and caught everyone’s attention. All eyes were forward. “Thanks, everyone,” Megan said. “So, as I was saying, Officer Coleman wants you all to go down to the convention room for a bit. He’ll brief you there. I’m so sorry for your loss. Please follow Owen.”

  Owen disembarked the bus, followed by Megan. Megan stood aside and watched as Owen, a pied piper of doom, led away the boisterous, befuddled flock of travel writers and travel bloggers.

  Kendall Perkins stopped when she saw Megan. “Me too?” she said.

  Megan was taken aback. Of course you, too, she thought. Why would this woman think she was exempt?

  “Yes, sorry. Follow Owen.” Megan remembered her hostess duties then. She smiled wearily. “When you’re done, come back up to the library level and find me, and we’ll get you settled into your rooms.”

  Kendall squinted but nodded, and followed Owen.

  Megan was torn. She wanted to follow them all, eavesdrop on the questioning, hear the buzz as they discussed the questions that had been asked, interrogate them herself. But she also wanted to find Lily and see what information her friend had already gleaned.

  “See you at the reception tonight?” said Devin as he passed Megan.

  The convention’s opening reception, of course! Problem solved, thought Megan. Everyone would be at the reception, for sure. Free food and an open bar would draw anyone. “I will see you there!” She turned and went to find Lily.

  As she expected, Megan found Lily at Rae’s, along with several convention attendees who hadn’t yet been herded to the library, as well as half the town, all of whom knew that if there was information to be found, they would find it at Rae’s Pub.

  A harried Rae saw Megan come in. Carrying a platter full of burgers and beers, strands of her light blonde hair falling out of a haphazard bun, Rae tilted her head toward Lily and then rolled her eyes. What is all this? Rae’s look said. Megan shook her head and nodded in sympathy.

  Megan wove her way through the throngs to Lily, who was sitting at a table, carefully guarding a seat for Megan.

  “Finally!” Lily said in greeting, moving her purse off the chair she’d been saving. “The number of times I’ve had to yell at people who wanted to take this seat! Rae’s making you a burger. If you don’t want it I’ll take it home for Steve.”

  Megan leaned in to give her friend a loose chair hug, and then sat. “Of course I want a burger. Oh my gosh, Lily! I can’t believe this. Tell me everything you know. I didn’t see Max yet at the library. He was busy trying to gather the travel people. I don’t know anything. Start from the beginning.” She took a chip from Lily’s plate and savored the salty crunch.

  “I don’t know a lot yet,” Lily said. “Rae probably knows more but she hasn’t had time to put two words together. They found a guy, like I told you, down by Addie’s park. Face down in the water at the edge of the river. The back of his head has a pretty good gash in it. It’s always possible that he fell or something, but they don’t think that’s likely. They’ve taken his body away to do an autopsy.” Lily shuddered.

  “Do you know much about the guy? One of the other writers, a guy named Devin, told me this Patrick Bates, mainly wrote about Europe. I thought it was odd that he would be out here in Emerson Falls. That’s pretty random. Have you met anyone who knows him?”

  “No one yet, but it’s just been chaos. Everyone’s caught between being terrified and being enraptured by the novelty of it. You can just see them writing up their stories already. ‘I went to a travel convention, and one of the attendees was murdered on the first day!’”

  “Not exactly the kind of publicity the tourism people are looking for, I’m guessing,” Megan said. “I’ll have to see what I can find out at the opening reception tonight. Are you coming?” Megan knew Lily wanted to attend some of the open workshops; she had been wanting to write a little book about Emerson Falls for a long time. Something to put out on the nightstands at her B&B; another thing to put on her long list of accomplishments. Lily Bell was a very capable woman.

  “I will be there,” Lily said. “It’s not formal, is it?”

  “I think you can wear whatever you want,” Megan said. “These are travelers. They’re used to wearing the same underwear for a week.”

  “They do not,” said Lily, shaking her head and laughing her charming laugh.

  “My point,” Megan said, “is that I think Lily Bell, queen of fashion, will be just fine.”

  Just then, Rae threaded herself between customers with a platter held high over her head. She lowered the platter and handed Megan a plate with burger and fries.

  “Good for the pocketbook, bad for the sanity,” Rae said, looking around at the swarming mass.

  “You’ll need a good vacation after this,” Megan said sympathetically. “But to the matter at hand: what do you know?”

  “For once,” Rae said, wiping her forehead with the crook of her elbow, “I don’t know much. This crowd has been growing nonstop, and my secret sources are busy at the scene. Can’t help you yet, sunshine, but I will text you when I know anything.” She saw a customer trying to get her attention at the bar. “Duty calls,” she said. “I really need to get more staff.” With that, she whisked herself away.

  Lily’s phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up. “Oh gosh,” she said. “Steve needs me back at the B&B. There’s a kerfuffle over the rooms. Sorry, I know you just got here, but …”

  “Duty calls us all,” Megan said. “No problem. This crowd is making me anxious anyway. I think I’ll wrap up this burger and head out myself.” As Lily ran off, Megan wrapped the burger and a few of the fries in an envelope of napkins, pulled a ten dollar bill out of her purse, and headed to the bar where Rae was pouring a drink. Megan waved the bill in the air for Rae to see, then tucked it behind the counter by the cash register. Rae acknowledged her with a nod, and Megan headed back to the library.

  By the time she got there, Max was done with his initial interrogations and was just getting into his police car out front. He saw Megan and waited for her to park her car and come over.

  “Max!” she said as she approached.

  “Megan!” he said cheerfully in response. His wavy dark hair had a shine to it that was straight out of the movies, Megan thought, and his dimples and smile were perfect, as always.

  “What the heck is going on?” Megan said.

  “It’s looking bleak,” said Max. “Definitely bleak for Mr. Bates. Not his best day.”

  “When you think about it, I suppose one’s last day is rarely one’s best day,” Megan said. “Especially if you end it with a massive whack to the back of your head.” She raised a brow, inviting him to tell her more.

  “That is some insightful thinking,” Max said, laughing.

  “What else can you tell me?” Megan asked. “They think it happened at Addie’s park?”

  “Not sure yet,” Max said. “That’s what they’re trying to figure out. But it doesn’t look like the body traveled far. It may have been moved slightly but it didn’t float downriver or anything.”

  “You know, I could probably help investigate,” Megan said, waggling her eyebrows. “You probably need help.” When Max looked at her, rolling his eyes, she batted her lashes.

  “I do?” he said. He batted his eyelashes right back at her.

  “I helped before,” Mega
n said.

  “You were a big help,” Max nodded indulgently.

  “It’s an enormous job,” Megan said. “The department is severely underfunded.”

  Max shook his head in amusement. “These are all true facts,” he said. “But I’m a pretty good investigator.”

  Megan saw this as a carrot being dangled before her, and she was determined to get a bite. “You know I’m going to investigate anyway,” she said. “You may as well give me your blessing.”

  Max’s perfect, sparkly smile grew wider.

  “I’ll give you a free library card,” Megan said.

  A bark of laughter burst out of Max. “They’re already free!” he protested.

  “Oh come on,” Megan said, bubbling with the excitement of digging into some more detective work. Her best skills were wasted on Mr. Dewey Decimal. “You need a sidekick. Who doesn’t want a sidekick?”

  “It’s a little gauche to be so happy about a murder, you know,” Max said, but her bubbling was contagious and he couldn’t help but grin.

  “We can get me a bulletproof vest,” Megan suggested.

  Max tilted his head.

  “We can put ‘Library Director’ on it. Like that TV show where the guy had ‘Writer’ on his. So people won’t think I’m police. They won’t think I’m armed and dangerous,” Megan said.

  “Hmmm,” Max said, nodding noncommittally.

  “We can have it say, ‘Library Director: If you can read this, you’re not dead yet,’” Megan said.

  “That is … this is well thought out. Have you been thinking about this for a while?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Nope, just came up with that idea. Quick wit. Just the kind of trait you want in a sidekick,” Megan said, eyes glowing with delight.

  “You are certainly quick witted,” Max conceded.

  “Or if you have to pay by the letter we can just put ‘Sidekick’ on it. People would get a kick out of that,” Megan said.