Free Murder Down Under (A Darcy Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 17) by K.J. Emrick Page B

some of the edges.
    Nothing to go on.
    “Can I keep these?” Jon asked her.
    “What for?” Maureen asked.  “You’re no cop here.  You’re like me.  A nobody.”
    Jon folded the papers carefully and set them on the seat next to him.  Then he took Maureen’s hands in his and waited for her to meet his gaze.  “We don’t think you’re nobody, Maureen.  And neither was Lindsay.”
    The room became very silent as Maureen closed her eyes and cried.

Chapter Six
     
    “I think it’s fair to say Maureen isn’t a suspect,” Jon said as they walked back to the Pine Lake Inn.
    “That’s an understatement,” Darcy agreed.  “She’s devastated that Lindsay is dead.”
    “At least she pointed us toward a suspect.  Those letters are definitely from an admirer.  Some guy had it bad for Lindsay.”  He shook his head in thought.  “It’s possible she was killed for spurning the writer’s advances.  That’s one of the oldest motives in the books.  Unfortunately it wouldn’t explain the other poisonings.  Four people.  Did they have anything in common?”
    “Apparently not.  Alec said he didn’t know any of them.  Except Lindsay from around town.  Two of the victims were men, two of them were women.  So whoever did this isn’t going after just men or just women.  One of them wasn’t even from Lakeshore.  Did they maybe eat all in the same place?”
    “I doubt that’s it,” Jon said.  “According to Maureen, Lindsay only ate health foods that were prepackaged.  I think the Milkbar owner said almost the same thing, too.  But, can you picture Alec Beaudoin being a health food nut?”
    Darcy snorted at the idea.  With all of the pizza boxes and beer bottles on Alec’s floor, it was a safe bet he didn’t sneak in a protein shake on the weekends.  “So, no connection?”
    “None that I can see, but I’m not from here.  There may be social clubs the four victims belonged to together, or church functions, or the same swimming hole for all I know.  It’s too bad we couldn’t talk to more of the victims.  Like, you know, Lindsay Burlick.”
    Darcy knew that comment had been for her.  “I can try to do a communication, Jon, but I didn’t pack my travel kit.”
    “Why not?  I thought you didn’t go anywhere without that?”
    She gave him her best you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look.  Her Emergency Communication Kit was everything the modern girl needed to perform a ritual calling of a spirit.  Darcy had put it together herself and it had come in handy any number of times.  The problem was, the kit wasn’t exactly something she could pass through airport security without raising a lot of red flags.  Fat wax candles.  Metal jar lids to use as makeshift candle holders.  Matches.  Salt.  Incense.  Plus a few other little items bound to raise eyebrows with the TSA.
    “Besides,” she added, “I don’t have any of Lindsay’s personal items.  I need some sort of connection with Lindsay to make a call to her.  Otherwise I’m just shouting into a windstorm and hoping the right person hears me.”
    “I know.  You’ve explained it to me enough for me to get that much.  But we have something personal of Lindsay’s.”
    “We do?”  Darcy was confused.  “What?”
    He pulled the folded letters out of his back pocket.  “These.”
    It took them another twenty minutes to find their way back to the gently sloping street where the Inn was located.  They still hadn’t gone back to talk with Mabel again.  It would have to wait now, because Jon was right.  Calling up Lindsay’s spirit was their best bet, as hard as it might be on Darcy with only unwanted love letters to make the connection.
    On the way to the Inn Darcy thought over everything else they had heard today.  For a mystery that no one in town was supposedly giving much thought to, there was a lot that she and Jon had found out in just a short time.
    It was when they got back, and the pleasant aroma of freshly