Free Murder at the Book Group by Maggie King Page A

didn’t know if I could “get him” to ditch the new girlfriend, Molly, and I wasn’t about to get involved in ferreting out killers. “Yes, well, you need to be careful with the cops as well. Pillow talk will only protect you so much.” Kat responded by leveling a look at me with smudged and reddened blue eyes.
    â€œKat, maybe you can locate Linda. Find out something about her and her relationship with Carlene.” Best to let Kat think I suspected someone other than her. Naturally, Linda came to mind as the someone. “You said she called you—was it on your cell phone?” When Kat nodded, I went on. “Is the number in your incoming calls register?”
    She got her phone out of her pocket again and checked her log. Then she shook her head. “No, I was afraid of that. I delete my calls right away.” I silently cursed the neat freaks of the world with their compulsions to keep even their phone logs tidied up. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the phone book, turning to the listings for the needle-in-a-haystack name of Thomas. I found a number of “Lindas” as well as “L” initials.
    â€œWhy does she have to have a name like Thomas?” I griped. “What about her husband? The listing could be under his name.”
    Kat thought. “I don’t think she mentioned his name. Just called him ‘husband.’ Hazel, don’t worry, I’ll track her down. It will give me something to focus on. When I find her, I’ll tell her about Carlene. Since she left early last night, she might not know.”
    When Kat suggested we program each other’s numbers into our phones, I went upstairs and retrieved mine. We spent a couple of minutes assigning speed dial designations. For good measure, I suggested that she program Lucy’s number as well.
    I asked, “Should we send an e-mail to the book group about what happened last night—especially for the folks who weren’t there, like Trudy Zimmerman?”
    â€œIs she still even a member? Doesn’t matter, I guess. As soon as I know about the funeral arrangements, I’ll let everyone know.”
    After teary good-byes, Kat left and I went back to the morning room. I knew I should check my voice mail, but I stared into space, reviewing the conversation with Kat. It struck me as odd that we hadn’t mentioned cyanide, or any poison for that matter. And, despite being fired up about finding Carlene’s killer, Kat hadn’t presented any candidates for the killer role. Unless I was her candidate of choice . . . Sobering thought.
    Had Kat really gotten over Evan’s dumping her to pursue Carlene? It was, after all, a long time ago. Wouldn’t she be over it by now? How long did one hold a grudge, anyway? When had she found out about the recent separation? Did she know from the start, a month ago? If so, maybe she saw an opportunity for another try at a relationship with Evan and, not wanting to chance that he and Carlene would reconcile, had eliminated the competition. On the other hand, her grief and sorrow seemed genuine enough. Besides, the same speculations could apply to me. I imagined someone posing the argument that following my encounter with Evan at Target, I’d fantasized about getting back together with him and had taken my own measures to avoid being thwarted a second time—and that meant that Carlene had to go.
    I resolved to let no one in on the details of the Target encounter.

CHAPTER 5
    THE FIRST VOICE MAIL I listened to was from Art. “I’m so sorry about Carlene. Shattered is a better word for how I feel. She had a lot of class.” Art really did sound shattered. “Call me. I need to talk about this—with someone besides my mother. And I don’t want to bother Kat at a time like this.” I wrote down his cell number.
    â€œHazel dear, I heard what happened last night and that you were there.” I felt