Panic Button by Kylie Logan

said.
    I shrugged. “I know. It’s just that—”
    “That it’s not your fault.”
    He was right, and I admitted it with a fleeting smile. It was the first I’d smiled
     since I walked into the courtyard and found Angela’s body, and the muscles in my face
     felt stiff and uncomfortable, but even that felt better than the painful knot wedged
     between my heart and my stomach.
    Maybe Nev realized how close I was to falling to pieces. That would explain why he
     kept things professional and to the point. I didn’t hold it against him. Butthen, I knew what he knew: if he was going to find out who murdered Angela, he had
     to get on the trail of the killer, and fast. At this point in his investigation, I
     was the one best able to help.
    “Did she say anything to you?” he asked. “About anyone following her? Or about anyone
     who might have been angry at her? Anyone she might have been afraid of? Did she act
     peculiar in any way?”
    I’d already shaken my head before I stopped to reconsider. “She didn’t call to tell
     me she was on her way here, and the day before, she told me she would. I know that
     seems like a small thing, but I don’t think Angela was the type who made promises
     she didn’t intend to keep. And then when she did get to the shop last night…well,
     it was pretty obvious that she was upset,” I told Nev. “Her eyes were swollen like
     she’d been crying, but when I asked her about it, she said it was because of her allergies.
     She was a mess, too. It’s hard to believe seeing her the way she’s dressed now, but
     the first time I met Angela, she looked like the poster girl for how women should
     dress for success. Something was definitely wrong.”
    “But she didn’t say what.”
    Another shake of my head. “She didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would easily
     share, especially with a stranger.”
    “And with friends?”
    “I hardly knew her.” My throat felt as if there were a hand around it. So not a pretty
     thought considering the way Angela had been killed. Hoping to wash away the uncomfortable
     thought, I took a sip of water, and when it hurt to swallow, I made a face.
    Nev excused himself long enough to go over to the counter and put on a fresh pot of
     coffee. “When that’s done brewing,” he said to the cop nearby, “how about pouring
     a cup for Ms. Giancola.”
    The cop nodded and dutifully went over to watch the pot drip, and Nev came back to
     sit next to me. “Did she say anything about her life back in Ardent Lake?”
    “She said she had a boyfriend.” I thought about the way Angela had worded it, that
     they were more than friends, and my voice clogged with tears. “She was so happy about
     Larry. She said he was the one good thing that had happened to her since she inherited
     the charm string. He owns the hardware store in Ardent Lake. That’s what Angela told
     me.” I remembered how Angela’s eyes had gleamed when she talked about Larry, and I
     thought about how he was going to feel when he heard the news. “The poor man,” I said,
     automatically reaching for my cell though I didn’t have a clue what Larry’s number,
     or even his last name, was. “Someone needs to tell him.”
    “That’s my job.” Nev made a note of this in the little leather-bound notebook he pulled
     out of the breast pocket of his gray suit. “I’ll get in touch with the Ardent Lake
     police and have someone there tell Larry what happened, after we check for next of
     kin. Then I’ll go up there and have a talk with Larry. He’s bound to know more about
     Ms. Morningside’s personal life.”
    “And what about all that other stuff?” Normally, I would have shrugged it off without
     another thought, but murder is serious business and Angela’s felt strangely personal.
     Maybe that was because I’d grown so close tothose buttons of hers. The ones she’d now never have a chance to donate to the historical
     society.
    “I know you’re going to tell