Death in Room 7 (Pine Lake Inn Cozy Mystery Book 1) by K.J. Emrick Page A

you’re going to tell me anyway.”
    “Because you’re just going to keep pressing me until you find out.”
    That, at least, makes me smile.  “You know me so well.”
    “The great Dell Powers.  To know her is to love her.”  He took a sip of his soft drink before leaning his elbows on the table, closer to me, so I could hear him as he lowered his voice.  “Horace is one right tosser, I can tell ya that.  Tosser with a capital T.  He’s upset, and he’s angry, but I don’t get a sense that he’s sad that Jess is dead.”
    “I tell you, Kevin, from what he said to me over the phone I wouldn’t have been surprised to see the two of them come to blows.”
    “Maybe they did.”
    I could only nod my head in agreement.  “I was thinking the same thing.  Maybe he got to the Inn this morning, early.  Maybe even right after he called.  For all I know he might have called from my parking lot.”
    “That’s what I was thinking.  Except, go another step further.  Maybe he got here before his phone call.  Then he gets into Jess’s room, they have a bit of a blue. They have go at each other, and he kills her.  Makes his call to you, hey I’m on my way in, where’s my wife, blah blah blah, and poof.  Instant alibi.”
    That idea hadn’t occurred to me.  Could someone be so devious, so…evil, that they could commit a murder, then try to cover it up by pretending to be somewhere else?
    Of course they could.
    My hand found the string of the unicorn necklace, and pulled the little charm out of my shirt.  I held it tight as I thought about it.
    “Wouldn’t I have seen him?  Coming into the Inn?”
    “Where were you last night?” he asked, all police business.
    I thought back.  It seemed like a lifetime ago.  “In bed.  I went to bed early.”
    He nodded to that.  “And Rosie?”
    “She left early.  Came in late.”  Oh, snap.  Anyone coulda snuck into the Inn.  Including Horace.
    Kevin was watching me, waiting for me to make the same connections that he obviously had already made.  “But if they had a fight,” I wondered, “wouldn’t there be bruises on her?”
    He shook his head.  “Maybe yes, maybe no.  Bruises take time to show up.  Plus, they don’t show up after death.  A person’s blood needs to be flowing for their skin to bruise.  Jess’s was…”
    “Spilling out onto the floor,” I finish for him.
    “Right.  Sorry.”
    “No, it’s all right.  I have to deal with this.  It kind of happened in my own house.  So.  Horace could’ve beaten her up and then killed her.”
    “That’s the theory.”  He drummed his fingers on the table.  “Except.”
    “Except?  Except what?”
    “Well, there’s a couple of things that don’t add up.”
    “Like?”
    “For one,” he said, “how did Horace get into her room?  Did she just let him in and then quietly let him beat her up?”
    “That’s actually two things,” I point out, “not one.  How did he get in the room, and how could they have a fight without anyone hearing it.”
    The corner of his mouth curled.  “You shoulda been the cop.  That’s some brilliant deduction.  You always did like solving puzzles.  So, yes.  Take the first part of it, then.  How’d he get into the room?”
    “Oh!  That’s what I was going to tell you earlier.  The spare key to Jess’s room is missing.”
    Kevin’s eyes widened.  “Really?  Well, that’s a stroke of luck then, isn’t it?”
    “Luck?  Why?”
    “Find that key…”
    “Find the killer,” I said, catching on.  “We could search Horace’s luggage and his car and his blooming pants pockets!”
    “Not without a search warrant.”
    “You don’t need a warrant,” I pointed out, “if he gives you permission.”
    “He’s not going to give us permission.”
    He sounded so certain.  “Why not?”
    “Because if Horace is a killer,” he said, slowly, “then he ain’t gonna just let me feel around in his pockets for the key to the