Free All Murders Final! by Sherry Harris Page A

against the headboard, not wanting to admit how much my head hurt or how scared I felt. I briefly described the sale of the Pez.
    â€œDo you have a description of your attacker?”
    â€œHe wore a ski mask and sunglasses. So none of his face showed. Maybe a black turtleneck and jeans. Gloves on his hands. It was all a blur.”
    CJ opened the door. “Juanita left. You two can come back out.”
    Pellner looked relieved. I dropped the throw. I slipped on a black cardigan as we walked back out into the living room.
    My front door was open, and Juanita stood on the landing, talking to one of the officers. She was tiny, maybe five-two, but she looked strong.
    Juanita gestured back toward the box of Pez, which had been knocked over at some point. Pez dispensers were scattered across the floor. “I guess I can’t take these right now?” she asked.
    The officer shook his head.
    â€œOkay,” she said. She mouthed, “I’m sorry,” to me and left.
    â€œSo the sale was all arranged,” Pellner said. “What happened when she showed up?” Pellner jerked his head toward where Juanita had just been.
    â€œI opened the door. Juanita stood there. I wasn’t going to let her in,” I said. I glanced at CJ as I said this, my voice a bit more defensive than I meant it to be. I gestured to the box the Pez had been in by the door. “I left the box right by the door so I could just hand it to her. The guy forced his way in, knocking Juanita out in the process.” I emphasized the word knocking a little more than normal. But I had to admit that doubts about Juanita’s innocence in this whole episode had already crept into my brain. I tried to remember who’d recommended Juanita join the group. Nothing came to me. I’d have to see if I could track the information down on the virtual garage sale site later.
    â€œDid he have a baseball bat with him?” Pellner asked. He pointed to the bat on the floor over by my grandmother’s oak rocking chair.
    I felt my face warm. “No. I stuck it behind the door for protection.”
    CJ looked at the wooden bat. “Is that my bat?”
    I nodded. “I just found it in a box in the storage space under the eaves.” After our divorce last year I’d kept thinking we’d finally sorted out who had whose stuff. But then something like the baseball bat would turn up and have to be returned.
    I filled them in on the rest of what I knew. Pellner took notes. CJ listened to the whole thing, careful to stay in the middle of the room so he didn’t whack his head on the slanted part of the ceiling. I kept waiting for CJ to lecture me or tell me, “I told you so.” He didn’t. But he had to be thinking it.
    I looked at CJ. “Maybe you should check the apartment next door. It’s still empty, as far as I know. Maybe the guy hid in there and popped out when Juanita showed up. But why would he do that?”
    CJ and Pellner exchanged glances but didn’t answer.
    â€œPellner, will you go check it out?” CJ asked.
    Pellner disappeared through my front door.
    â€œYou need to see if anything is missing,” CJ said to me.
    I looked around the living room. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but everything seemed a bit messier than normal.
    Pellner came back in. “It’s locked. But the lock is flimsy. Wouldn’t take much to open it.”
    I wondered if he had.
    I went into the kitchen with CJ and Pellner, a space where three was definitely a crowd. My computer wasn’t on the small kitchen table and the vintage tablecloth was askew. “My computer’s gone. Please tell me someone moved it.”
    â€œNo one moved it,” CJ said.
    I wanted to stomp my foot or kick something or someone, like the jerk who’d taken my computer. I needed it for work. I could use my phone for lots of it, but it was easier to use the computer. Plus, I had files I kept of people who