Page 46 of Murder By the Millions

“And miss the two of you theorizing? Not a chance.”

I flashed on Tegan dubbing anyone who helped me solve Jason’s murder a member of hashtag AlliesClueCrew and tamped down a smile. My friends were stalwart, if nothing else.

“So, who hates you?” Chloe asked.

“I can’t think of anyone other than Sissy Martin from high school.”

“Ha!” Tegan snorted. “Yep. Pip-squeak Sissy wanted to play point guard on the basketball team, but you earned the position.”

“She wasn’t a pip-squeak.”

“She was four feet ten and as vicious as a hurricane.”

“Remember how she pulled my hair and elbowed me in the stomach?” I flinched at the memory of how brutal her attacks were.

“And did she ever have a mouth on her.”

“No kidding.” The vile words she’d hurled at me? Ouch!

“Where is she these days?” Tegan asked.

“She’s saving elephants in Africa.” In her senior year Sissy started seeing a psychologist, who prescribed some medication. Anger issues resolved, it turned out she had a benevolent nature. “There’s one other person who might hate me. Your ex, for being your moral support.”

Winston Potts had not been pleased when Tegan mustered the courage to start divorce proceedings. He had threatened to do so but had never pulled the trigger. It had taken Tegan’s aunt’s death and the subsequent inheritance, plus a kick in the rear end by me, to make her realize she could be independent.

“Yeah, he does, but no.” Tegan wagged her head. “He’s not living here any longer. He relocated to Ohio to head up some big tech project.”

“Good riddance,” Chloe said.

“How’s the divorce going?” I asked. “Everything moving along with the attorney?”

“The wheels of justice turn slowly, and serving papers is tricky.” She sighed. “Hey, I’ve got an idea about the murder. What if a woman with a thing for Jason saw you two together at the Brewery last night? Women were crazy for him. Chloe and my sister both pined for him.”

“I didn’t pine,” Chloe argued.

“You both had your claws out,” Tegan joked. “Jealousy is a powerful motivator.”

I frowned. “Why not kill me instead?”

“Good point.”

“Hold on.” I swung around so abruptly I nearly toppled off the rolling ladder. I clutched a shelf to anchor myself. “I remember seeing Reika at the Brewery last night. She was already seated when I arrived. But she didn’t have a crush on Jason.”

“I’d hope not. He was twenty years her junior,” Tegan stated.

“No, I mean she wasn’t happy he was negotiating to purchase the historical houses.”

“Which gives her motive, I suppose.”

“Jason’s neighbors told Zach they heard a woman scream and a dog bark around the time of the murder. Granted, the sounds were distant and, therefore, muted, but the concurrence of events seems relevant, and Reika has a dog.” I offered Tegan a stack of books.

“But Reika likes you.” She accepted the books and positioned them on the trolley. “No, I can’t see her as a killer. She’s too … cultivated.”

Cultivated individuals had murdered—a number of serial killers, including Hannibal Lecter came to mind—but I pushed the notion aside. “I also saw Ignatius Luckenbill.”

“Who’s he?” Chloe asked.

“A developer who, like Reika, was not pleased Jason was going to take ownership of the historic properties, but for a completely different reason.” I explained.