Free Deadly Notions by Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page A

and be objective, she knew Dixie was right. People tended to look out for themselves. Self-preservation, after all, was part of human nature.
    Knowing that, though, didn’t make the fallout from Dixie’s comments any easier to take. Never in the past year had Tori ever seen Debbie get as defensive about anything as she did regarding her feelings for Ashley Lawson. And never, in that same amount of time, had she ever known Margaret Louise to be anything but happy and fun-loving—a far cry from the demeanor the woman had exhibited on the heels of Dixie’s cross-examination.
    Even the normally shy Beatrice had shown something resembling a spine when Dixie had mimicked the victim’s opinion on what constituted correct party attire, the nanny’s flaming red cheeks and trembling hands merely a hint to the animosity she still harbored.
    Pulling her knees to her chest, Tori wrapped her arms around them and stared at the swath of light streaming in through the blinds from the street lamp two doors down. She knew she should probably consider getting ready for bed, or, at the very least, laying out her clothes for the next day, but she couldn’t. Her mind was simply too keyed up—and her heart too heavy—to move.
    A soft knock at the door made her look up, her eyes squinting toward the transom window that framed the right side of the door. Suddenly, a hand rose up against the glass and waved, the identity of the person on the other side of the door all but certain.
    She dropped her feet to the ground and stood, a smile tugging her mouth upward as she closed the gap between them in record time. When she reached the door she yanked it open. “Milo! Hi!”
    “Hi.” Smiling sweetly, he held a white paper sack into the air. “I brought you back some dessert. The waiter called it Death By Chocolate and the second he did, I immediately thought of you.”
    She tried to smile. She really did. But on the heels of what had transpired that day, the name of the dessert didn’t sound quite so appealing.
    “Hey, what’s wrong?” He lowered the sack to his side and glanced down at his wristwatch. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
    “No.”
    A frown furrowed his brows. “Are you feeling poorly?”
    “No.”
    “Then what’s wrong?”
    “It’s been a rough day with Ashley Lawson’s murder and all.”
    Milo’s mouth hung open. “What?”
    She stared at him, his reaction not what she had expected. “You didn’t hear?”
    “No. What happened?”
    Stepping back, she waved him inside. “She was found in her car this morning.”
    He strode into the darkened living room and then stopped, retracing his steps over to the light switch on the wall. With a flick of his finger, her living room was bathed in light. “And they think she was murdered because . . .”
    “Of the rope that was tied around her neck.”
    “Wow.”
    That was one word for it.
    She followed him over to the sofa and sat down. “Even more of a wow is the fact that I’m pretty sure it was the same rope you used to secure the tire swing for Sally’s birthday party.”
    He dropped onto the cushion beside her, his mouth gaping open once again. “What?”
    “I suspect that’s one of the reasons Chief Dallas was in my office just after ten o’clock this morning.” She heard the wooden quality to her voice yet could do little to stop it. The day had taken its toll on just about every ounce of her being.
    “Huh?” Milo swiveled to face her, his hand reaching for hers. “Wait. Tell me he’s not looking at you for this.”
    She shrugged. “If he is, I’m one of many.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    She closed her eyes as his fingers entwined with hers. “Do you remember what I told you last night after the party? How I was afraid the rope might be too tempting for Margaret Louise after expressing her desire to strangle Ashley Lawson?”
    His face paled. “Oh my God, I forgot about that. You don’t think—no, there’s no way. Margaret Louise would never do