Murder at Eagle Summit

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

“Have you ever seen an uglier dress in your life?”

Liz Carmichael pitched her voice to be heard over the windshield wipers and the downpour of rain battering against the roof of the car. Rainfall this heavy was unusual in December, but nothing about this warm Kentucky winter could be called usual. She lifted her head from the passenger headrest and cracked one tired lid to see her friend’s reaction to her question.

Jazzy clutched the wheel with both hands, her gaze fixed on the wet road through the windshield. Lightning flashed across the coal-black sky above them, illuminating her dainty profile in an eerie white glow.

“It was pretty awful,” she agreed without looking toward Liz.

From the backseat came Caitlin’s voice. “But the bride was beautiful.”

“What bride?” Liz snorted. “If there was a girl somewhere inside all those ruffles, I couldn’t see her.”

“Oh, there was a bride, all right. I have her check to prove it.” The corner of Jazzy’s mouth twisted. “And a stiff neck, too.”

“Yeah, and my lips are numb.” Caitlin, the flutist in their classical ensemble, sounded tired, too. “I think that’s the longest we’ve ever played at a wedding reception. We earned our money tonight, that’s for sure.”

Liz rubbed a thumb across the calluses on her fingertips, sore from playing her cello for two hours straight. “I just hope the check doesn’t bounce.”

She snapped her jaw shut. She must be more tired than she thought. That was a bit much, even from her.

Caitlin poked her shoulder from behind while Jazzy said, “Don’t be such a sourpuss. Of course the check won’t bounce.”

Liz half turned to give Caitlin a crooked grin. Good thing her friend knew her well enough to see through her cynicism and realize the reason for her grumpiness.

The car slowed as they approached the entrance to Liz’s apartment complex.

“I thought we played well. Did you notice—”

“What’s going on over there?” Jazzy cut her off with a finger stabbing at the windshield.

Liz looked where Jazzy had indicated. Flashing blue and white lights from a pair—no, three police cars sliced through the dark haze of the downpour.

“They look like they’re in front of your building, Liz.”

Liz leaned forward to peer through the torrent of rain as Jazzy guided the car through the parking lot. As they drew near, a person in a dark rain poncho exited her building and sloshed through the water pooling on the sidewalk. The figure slid inside one of the police cars. Oh, no. What if something had happened to one of her neighbors?

What she noticed next made her stomach twist. A light shone in the second floor window on the left side of the building.

Her window.

She had turned off the lights before she left. She always did.

“I think…” Her voice came out choked. She swallowed and tried again. “I think they’re in my apartment.”

Caitlin’s gasp was almost drowned out by the rumble of thunder outside.

Jazzy pulled the car to a stop behind the third police cruiser and cut the engine. The sound of rain hammering against the roof grew louder in the silence. Dread gathered in Liz’s core. Had her place been broken into? Had she been robbed?

Shuffling sounds from the backseat made Liz look around. Caitlin had pulled her hood up over her head and was tying it in place beneath her chin.

Liz cleared her throat. “You don’t have to get out in this weather. You’ll get soaked.”

Jazzy slipped her car keys into the pocket of her raincoat before turning a disbelieving stare in Liz’s direction. “Are you crazy? We’re your friends. We’re coming with you.”

A flash of relief loosened her tense shoulders, but only for a second. She needed to get in there and see what was going on in her apartment. She braced herself, pushed open the car door and exited the vehicle at a run. Dimly aware that Jazzy and Caitlin followed, she splashed across the sidewalk and into the breezeway of her building. Water plastered her bangs to her forehead and dripped into her eyes. Blinking furiously to clear them, she ascended the six stairs in two leaps. Her friends right behind her, she skidded to a halt in front of her door.

It stood open.

Just inside the doorway, two police officers, one male, one female, blocked her way. Both wore thick rain ponchos and hats covered in plastic.

Someone rushed up beside her, and Liz felt her arm caught in a tight grip.

“Oh, Liz, I’m so sorry.” Her neighbor, Mrs. Evans, peered up at her from beneath a creased brow. “You’ve been burgled.”

No. Not again. “I have?”

Mrs. Evans nodded. “They left your door open, and I peeked in. When I saw the mess, I knew something was wrong so I called the police.” Her clutch eased and she patted Liz’s arm. “You’re not nearly as messy as all that.”

All what?

“You’re Elizabeth Carmichael?” The female officer’s badge read R. Lawrence. She and the man stood shoulder-to-shoulder so Liz couldn’t see past them.

Almost fearfully, she nodded.

“I’m afraid someone made quite a mess of your apartment.”

“What…” Liz cleared her throat “…what did they take?”