Page 29 of The Murder Club

But there was something about Bailey that stirred his most primitive passions.

“Did you reassure yourself?” he asked.

“Not really. Her neighbor admitted that the older woman had a habit of drinking, maybe heavily. That could obviously have caused her to fall into the pool.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“The neighbor also admitted that workers had been there to drain and clean the pool for the winter. So why wasn’t it covered?”

“Good point,” he murmured.

It was a question that would never have entered his mind. When he was in France he never knew anyone with a pool. And since coming to America he’d lived in areas where it was never a concern.

“Plus, the neighbor said that the grandson who was her only heir was there around dinnertime and stormed away as if they’d had a fight.”

Dom fisted his hands. He admired her obvious talent in seeing clues most people would have missed, but the fact that her mysterious stalker had forced her to try to solve the case was sending chills down his spine.

“I don’t like this,” he repeated.

“Neither do I.” She shuddered, glancing toward the back door. “Especially after the pearls showed up. It feels like someone is playing with me.”

“Could it be Gage?” he asked the obvious question.

The belligerent man had already tried to frame her for the murder of his mother. Maybe he’d discovered Bailey had an alibi and was trying to implicate her in the death of Mrs. Hartford?

“I doubt that was a member of the Murder Club,” Bailey retorted, her tone dubious. “My friend Trish works at the lumberyard taking care of the paperwork, and she once told me that Gage couldn’t even turn on the computer without her help. How would he use the direct messages in the chat room? Or figure out how to send texts from different numbers?”

“True. None of this seems to be his style,” Dom readily agreed.

“His style is slashing tires or throwing bricks through windows. He’s not subtle.”

“Who else was in the Murder Club?”

She shrugged. “The only person I know for sure is Eric Criswell.”

“Who is that?”

“He works as an aide at the nursing home,” she explained. “He’s the one who suggested I join.”

Dom placed his hands flat on the table as he leaned toward Bailey. “He’s an aide at the nursing home? And he was the one to convince you to join the Murder Club?”

Bailey nodded. “He’s big into online gaming.”

A computer nerd who would know all about burner phones. Dom added the information to the growing list of damning evidence.

“Does he have your phone number?”

“Anyone who works at the nursing home would have my number,” she said. “If I’m not working, I’m always on standby in case of an emergency.”

Dom stared at her in confusion. “It seems obvious that he must be the one harassing you.”

“That was my thought when I got the first text,” she conceded. “But I confronted him with the message and he pointed out that if he wanted us to play a private game, he could just ask me. There was no point in using the chat room or sending me creepy messages.”

“What would you have said if he asked?”

“I would have said no.”

“There you go. He knew you wouldn’t play his game, so he hoped he could tempt you by creating a secret identity. Some men just can’t accept rejection. Especially if they think you are somehow destined to be together.”