out of there before you could start investigating.”
“I would never do such a thing,” I said, maybe a touch defensively.
He gave me a look of patent disbelief. “Yeah, right.”
Although I would never have admitted it, I did have a niggling desire to turn around and go back. “Did Whitby happen to mention what kind of a gun was missing?”
He grinned. “Aha! I knew it. You’re already investigating. You can’t help yourself.”
In the backseat, Jenny burst out laughing. “You might as well admit it, Della. Matthew knows you too well.”
“It’s not that I want to get involved,” I argued, my voice rising. “It’s just that I happened to be in Whitby’s study no more than half an hour ago. I saw his gun collection. He has an entire wall of cabinets full of guns. He’s got rifles, pistols, handguns. Some of them looked really old. Others looked modern—not that I know anything about guns.”
Matthew took his gaze off the road for a second and glanced at me. “Did you happen to notice if any of the spaces was empty? That could help determine when the gun was taken. If all the guns were there when you were in the room, then it had to have been stolen between the time you visited and the time the butler found it missing. Only somebody at the party could have taken it.”
I tried to picture the racks, but all I could remember was rows of guns stored according to size. “I couldn’t swear to it, but I think all the guns were there when I was in the room. I bet it will turn up. And even if somebody did steal it, how would they ever find out who? There must have been two hundred people at the party.”
“What I’d like to know,” Matthew said, “is what kind of gun was stolen. Was it a valuable gun? If it was, then it was probably taken for its intrinsic value.”
“What other reason would anybody risk stealing an old gun for?” Marnie asked.
The car was silent as we all mulled that over.
“I suppose,” I said, chuckling, “that if somebody was planning the perfect murder, then stealing a gun during a party would be a great idea. It would be nearly impossible to trace the weapon back to the killer.”
Jenny did not find my comment funny. “Don’t joke. I have a really bad feeling about this.”
I glanced at Matthew. He looked as worried as Jenny.
Chapter 4
I fumbled through my pocket for my house keys and stepped back to let everyone in.
“Marnie, you’ve never seen my place. Come. I’ll show you around.” I walked through the foyer. “I fell in love with its charm. Don’t you just love the oak floors?”
She nodded approvingly at every detail I pointed out. “I can see why you would like this place. But personally, I prefer a place with a bit more character.” I almost laughed out loud. Her house had so much character, it would have looked perfect in a circus. “But to each her own,” she concluded, making a beeline for the kitchen, where Jenny was dropping a fistful of fettuccini into a pot of boiling water. Winston watched in rapt attention.
“Winnie, get away from there. That’s people food.” He slouched away with a look screaming of being abused. “You started dinner,” I said to Jenny. “Thank you.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She laughed. “I boiled the water.”
Matthew laughed. “That’s about all Della knows how to do.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
I filled Winston’s water bowl and poured some kibble into his food bowl. He lunged for it the second I set it down. “Just like a man,” I said. “Not even a thank-you, you ingrate.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Matthew asked, chuckling.
“If the shoe fits, wear it,” Jenny teased.
“I haven’t lived in Briar Hollow for long, but having my friends around makes it feel like home,” I said. “It’s nice having you all here. I should invite you over more often.”
“It’s nice being here,” Matthew replied, and something in his voice made me look up at him. He was staring back at
“I would never do such a thing,” I said, maybe a touch defensively.
He gave me a look of patent disbelief. “Yeah, right.”
Although I would never have admitted it, I did have a niggling desire to turn around and go back. “Did Whitby happen to mention what kind of a gun was missing?”
He grinned. “Aha! I knew it. You’re already investigating. You can’t help yourself.”
In the backseat, Jenny burst out laughing. “You might as well admit it, Della. Matthew knows you too well.”
“It’s not that I want to get involved,” I argued, my voice rising. “It’s just that I happened to be in Whitby’s study no more than half an hour ago. I saw his gun collection. He has an entire wall of cabinets full of guns. He’s got rifles, pistols, handguns. Some of them looked really old. Others looked modern—not that I know anything about guns.”
Matthew took his gaze off the road for a second and glanced at me. “Did you happen to notice if any of the spaces was empty? That could help determine when the gun was taken. If all the guns were there when you were in the room, then it had to have been stolen between the time you visited and the time the butler found it missing. Only somebody at the party could have taken it.”
I tried to picture the racks, but all I could remember was rows of guns stored according to size. “I couldn’t swear to it, but I think all the guns were there when I was in the room. I bet it will turn up. And even if somebody did steal it, how would they ever find out who? There must have been two hundred people at the party.”
“What I’d like to know,” Matthew said, “is what kind of gun was stolen. Was it a valuable gun? If it was, then it was probably taken for its intrinsic value.”
“What other reason would anybody risk stealing an old gun for?” Marnie asked.
The car was silent as we all mulled that over.
“I suppose,” I said, chuckling, “that if somebody was planning the perfect murder, then stealing a gun during a party would be a great idea. It would be nearly impossible to trace the weapon back to the killer.”
Jenny did not find my comment funny. “Don’t joke. I have a really bad feeling about this.”
I glanced at Matthew. He looked as worried as Jenny.
Chapter 4
I fumbled through my pocket for my house keys and stepped back to let everyone in.
“Marnie, you’ve never seen my place. Come. I’ll show you around.” I walked through the foyer. “I fell in love with its charm. Don’t you just love the oak floors?”
She nodded approvingly at every detail I pointed out. “I can see why you would like this place. But personally, I prefer a place with a bit more character.” I almost laughed out loud. Her house had so much character, it would have looked perfect in a circus. “But to each her own,” she concluded, making a beeline for the kitchen, where Jenny was dropping a fistful of fettuccini into a pot of boiling water. Winston watched in rapt attention.
“Winnie, get away from there. That’s people food.” He slouched away with a look screaming of being abused. “You started dinner,” I said to Jenny. “Thank you.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She laughed. “I boiled the water.”
Matthew laughed. “That’s about all Della knows how to do.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
I filled Winston’s water bowl and poured some kibble into his food bowl. He lunged for it the second I set it down. “Just like a man,” I said. “Not even a thank-you, you ingrate.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Matthew asked, chuckling.
“If the shoe fits, wear it,” Jenny teased.
“I haven’t lived in Briar Hollow for long, but having my friends around makes it feel like home,” I said. “It’s nice having you all here. I should invite you over more often.”
“It’s nice being here,” Matthew replied, and something in his voice made me look up at him. He was staring back at
Similar Books
