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

victim’s room.”
    “Oh.  Right.”  I felt foolish.  Foolish, and older than I’d ever felt in my forty-plus years.  Not old.  Just older.  “So our killer has the key, more than likely, we just can’t go looking for it without a judge giving us permission.  Fine.  We’ll get a judge’s permission.”
    “We’ll try,” he shrugged.
    Frustration started to slip over me.  “So what was the other thing that was bothering you?”
    Tearing off a corner of his sandwich he popped it into his mouth and chewed around his words.  “See, it kinda goes in hand with the other problem.  How did they have a fight without anyone hearing them?  That’s the question, but more to the point,” and here he leaned in closer still, “how did Horace make her sit still so he could cut her wrists?”
    I blinked at that image.  I hadn’t even thought of that.  Why would Jess sit still to be killed?  There hadn’t been one cut, there had been dozens.  For that matter, after her wrists were cut why would she sit in one place and just…die?
    With a little shake of my whole self I pushed my lunch aside.  I sure wasn’t hungry anymore.  “So, lots of questions to be answered.  There must be something else that made you suspect Horace?  Something other than how not upset he was by her death?”
    “There was.  Just not sure I should say.”
    “That’s fine,” I told him with a pleasant smile.  “I already know about it, anyway.”
    “What?” he asked, obviously surprised.  “Did Jess tell ya ‘bout their money troubles?”
    He’s so cute when I surprise him.  Makes his accent come out stronger.  “Ah.  So, Horace had a motive.”
    Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath.  “You didn’t know about that, did ya?  Not until I just said it?”
    I shrugged one shoulder.  “I still know how to get my son to tell me things, thank you very much.”
    “Sneaky woman.”
    “Your mother.”  I’ll take that compliment any day.
    “Fine.  Horace made sure to tell me, more’n once, that he and Jess were in serious debt.  He blames her for it.  Says she ran up crazy debts and never told him where the money went.  Said she stole his credit card two days ago.  That’s how he tracked her here.”
    “She did have Horace’s card.”  I hated to admit that to Kevin.  It was like I was ratting on Jess, even though she was dead.  “She checked in with it.”
    “I’ll need a copy of that receipt,” he told me, pouncing on what was probably a good piece of physical evidence.  “I just hope Cutter bagged up anything Jess had in that room.  Horace’s card included.  That’ll show he had a motive.  The missing key and the fuzzy time frame would give him opportunity.”
    “Now we just need to figure out the means.”  Another thing I’ve learned from having a copper for a son.  Means, motive, opportunity.
    How did he get Jess to sit still like that, and let herself be killed?
    “Find that out, add all of that up with the way he reacted when I told him Jess was dead, and I think we’ve got our man.”
    “Our murderer,” I corrected.
    “Don’t worry, mom,” he promised, true concern in his voice.  “We’ll get this bloke.  He won’t get away with it.”
    The Milkbar door opened and closed, and when I looked up to see who it was I couldn’t keep from groaning.  Kevin saw him, too, and quickly stood up from his seat, downing the rest of his drink as he did.  “I’d better go.  Talk to you soon as I know more, right?”
    He wasn’t fast enough.  The man was already at our table.  “G’day, Kevin.  Not leaving already, are ya?” 
    James Callahan was a reporter for the Lakeshore Times.  Serving Lakeshore, Geeveston, and the surrounding areas, the paper had run in this town for decades.  James had only been at it for the last fifteen years or so.  He was my about my age tall and slim and always quick with a smile.  Truth was, I didn’t hate the man.  Actually kind of