Free Love Is Murder by Allison Brennan

asked, wide-eyed.
    “I honestly don’t know. But I talked to the sheriff, and he’s working on getting deputies here by the end of today, but there’s no guarantee.”
    “I’ll go with you,” Kyle said. “What do you need?”
    “Well, I need a lookout because I’m going to search the barn. And Patrick’s gun is in his truck. And then—I need to get into the cottage.”
    “You’re going to break into Grace and Steve’s house?”
    “No, not exactly. I have a key.” She’d taken it from the office where everything was neatly labeled, even the extra key to the cottage. Considering Beth’s immaculate room, Lucy wondered if Beth had reorganized when she came over the summer.
    “I’ll be downstairs in five minutes,” Kyle said.
    Lucy turned to leave. Then she asked, “Yesterday, when you were dizzy, what had you been drinking?”
    “Orange juice, why?” Then he shook his head. “You think there was something in the juice? Is that what Patrick drank?”
    “No, but Steve has been dizzy and I saw him drinking orange juice last night.” She asked Angie, “Did you have some?”
    “No, and I told Kyle he should have asked.”
    “I just wanted some juice. Beth said to help myself between meals.”
    “That was your third glass.”
    “It was good.”
    What could have had that fast of an effect? Or was it simply the quantity? And what would have caused light-headedness or fainting?
    “I’ll see you downstairs.”
    *
    Leaving was much easier than Lucy had thought. She and Kyle traversed the fifty or so yards to the barn. She’d already verified that Grace and Steve were both in the main lodge. Beth was cooking soup in the kitchen for lunch. Lucy couldn’t count on the cottage remaining vacant, but she would have to take her chances.
    The wind had died down, but the snow still fell. It was almost picturesque, except that she could barely see the barn. She had never seen such odd light before, almost everything appeared black or white through the thickly falling snow. Everything white, except shadows and trees and buildings that were black and gray. It was both eerie and beautiful.
    And silent.
    Because there was no wind, it only took a couple minutes of plodding through the snow to reach the barn. Lucy went in through the regular door, which was unlocked; the main doors were braced from the inside to keep them from breaking off in the heavy winds from the night before and this morning. The barn was dark, and she didn’t want to turn on the lights and attract attention. Angie had been instructed to tell anyone who asked that Kyle had walked Lucy to the garage to get something for Patrick, but why encourage followers?
    She went straight to Patrick’s car and retrieved his gun.
    “What are you doing?” Kyle asked.
    “This is just a precaution.”
    He looked skeptical. “I don’t like this. Someone’s going to get hurt.”
    “Kyle, I trusted you, I need you to trust me.”
    He was torn. “I don’t like guns. I don’t like what’s going on here. Tell me the truth.”
    “Vanessa was murdered.”
    He paled. “How can you be sure?”
    “We can’t until an autopsy, which is why Patrick secured the body in the root cellar. The only people who were in the house during the time of death were Trevor, Beth, Grace, and possibly Steve. Alan and Heather returned from town at four, which is on the tail end of the window, and you and Angie were on a walk. Unless you lied and conspired to kill a woman you’d never met before this weekend.”
    “We were on a walk! I didn’t kill anyone.” He was too stunned at her comment to be insulted or angry.
    “I also suspect that she was drugged before she was killed. Again, I can’t prove it. But we have a lot of circumstantial evidence to back it up.”
    “Why?”
    “That’s the million-dollar question.” Why indeed? Lucy was still missing a few pieces to the puzzle. She hoped to find them in the cottage.
    She threaded the holster through her belt and tucked the