Free Veiled Passages by Terri Reid

jealous reaction from anyone else?”
    Tracey laughed and leaned back in her chair. “Peter hit on anything in a skirt,” she said. “I never took him seriously and I doubt anyone else did either.”
    “He never hit on me,” Honora said.
    “She had too many psychic friends with her,” Peter said. “I don’t operate in a crowd.”
    “It was probably because of your spiritual sensitivity,” Mary suggested. “It might have spooked him.”
    “It was more likely because he thought you were a kook,” Sally inserted. “Psychic contacts? Really Honora?”
    “Now there is a woman who knew how to play games,” Peter said. “Sally was exotic in more ways than one.”
    “Sally, I understand that your relationship with Peter was more of a…personal one…than either Tracey or Honora,” Mary said.
    “You slept with Peter?” Honora asked, aghast. “But I thought you hated him.”
    Tracey pulled a slim breadstick out of the container in the middle of the table and tapped her lips with it. “There’s a fine line between love and hate,” she said. “When did you stop sleeping with him?”
    Enraged, Sally glared at Mary. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information,” she spat. “But you’re wrong. He and I never…we never…”
    “Did the wild thing?” Honora inserted helpfully, her high-pitched voice slightly tremulous.
    Peter snorted. “Ask her if she remembers Dubuque?”
    “I have information about a brief…liaison…in Dubuque,” Mary said, watching Sally’s face go white.
    “How could you…how do you…?” Sally stuttered.
    “She’s better than you thought, isn’t she?” Tracey asked Sally. “Perhaps we ought to start helping her and stop trying to protect ourselves.”
    Picking up a napkin, Sally blotted her face and nodded. “Yes, I suppose we should.”
    “Excellent,” Mary said, sending a grateful smile to Tracey. “Now, tell me, why would someone want to murder Peter?”
    “There are many reasons,” Sally said, “Probably too many to enumerate.  But that evening, the main reason would have been his announcement that the money we gave him to ensure a publication contract for our books had fallen through.”
    “None of you were going to be published?” Mary asked.
    Honora shook her head. “No, there must have been at least twenty-five of us in the group that had been promised a contract,” she said. “All we wanted was to be published and Peter held the key.”
    The alarm went off on Mary’s phone and she quickly silenced it. “Continue,” she requested.
    “What’s the alarm for?” Tracey asked.
    Shrugging, Mary blushed slightly. “It’s nothing,” she said, “I have a date tonight.”
    Tracey sat back in her chair. “A date with somebody important?”
    “My fiancé,” Mary replied casually. “My mother’s in town and she insisted we go on a date before we’re married.”
    Sally turned quickly, her chair scraping on the floor. “You’re engaged and you haven’t even dated the man?”
    Mary shook her head. “It’s not like that,” she said. “We’re both in law enforcement, he’s Chief of Police and I do private investigation. Life just seems to get in the way whenever we schedule anything.  The last time we were supposed to go out a train derailed.”
    “It was a sign,” Honora said. “Are you sure you are supposed to marry this man?”
    Blushing again, she nodded her head. “Oh, yes, I’m very sure,” she said.
    Just as she finished her comment, the door to the restaurant opened and Bradley walked in. He looked around the room and, when he found Mary, he smiled and walked over to their table. “Hi,” he said softly. “Your mom said I’d find you here.”
    Her smile grew broader. “Hi,” she replied, and then turned to the women at the table. “This is Police Chief Bradley Alden, my fiancé. Bradley, this is Tracey, Sally and Honora.  They are all mystery writers who are helping me with this case.”
    “Nice to meet you,