Free Dead Women Tell No Lies by Nora LeDuc

key, and Lennox pushed the front door open. Inside, he circled the empty vestry. Pausing, he flipped on the overhead light in the dim hallway and walked to the edge of the floor beside the staircase.
    She hesitated on the threshold with the cool air circling around her. “No slasher or masher is hiding inside. Satisfied?”
    “My ex wife never thought so. Go ahead.”
    He had an ex, she mulled as he dogged her heels up the stairs. At her door, he insisted on inspecting her apartment.
    This is a good thing, she told herself, pacing in the upstairs hall. Not every woman has a detective to inspect her apartment.
    “Clear,” he said reappearing.
    “We’re on for tomorrow,” she reminded as he headed toward the stairs.
    “No, I’m on for tomorrow. Lock up, Miss Blue.” He nodded to her and left.
    She bolted the door and threw her purse and coat on the kitchen chair. Finally she breathed a sigh of relief. She listened to a phone message from Cassie that all was well at the boutique.
    A pain of homesickness tugged at her when she shut off her phone. At least her friend sounded happy. She bet Cass would marry a man like her father and enjoy a life with husband and two point one kids. Cassie was unlike the Blue women who seemed to find love in all the wrong places. Cassie’s past boyfriends were regular upstanding members of the community. Although she had only brief relationships, they remained friendly toward each other. Dahlia’s breakups were always traumatic for all involved. She’d cried for days over her breakup with A.J. and sobbed about how much she once loved him. Then she disappeared two weeks later. If she and A.J. had stayed together, maybe Dahlia would be alive today.
    Since Lennox announced his suspicions of her sister’s ex, Rose had begun to scrutinize and question every scene she could remember with him, seeking sinister motives. Where was he? Was he somewhere near Ledgeview?
    She compared him to her pursuer. In his boots, A.J. would squeak by at five-foot-ten. The idea the man her sister had trusted and wanted to marry might have killed her set lose a panic. Rose closed her eyes, reining in the helpless feeling. Lennox could be wrong. She’d wait for him to produce proof of A.J.’s guilt. Then she could blame herself for giving her blessing to a killer.
    From her suitcase in the corner, she pulled out her journal. In the galley kitchen, she sat and began to write the events of the day. After she finished, Rose massaged the tightened muscles in her neck. She tossed the diary into her suitcase, and zipped the top. She removed her butterfly necklace and tucked it away in the top bureau drawer closer to her reach.
    Bed called to her. She yawned and dropped onto the couch, throwing the blanket over herself. She’d pull out the sofa sleeper in a few minutes, once she had some energy. A loud thud startled her. She stared into the darkness waiting for her vision to adjust. She must have fallen asleep. What was the noise? It sounded like somebody fell against her door.
    “Who’s there?”
    The hum from the electric clock was the only response.
    She sat up. The blanket fell away, and she hugged her arms against her chest. The room had turned cold. What happened to the heat? She stood and snapped on the light. A draft of air swirled around her ankles. The clock read 11:55pm.
    It was freezing. She followed the flow of air to the space beneath the bottom of the door and cracked it open. The overhead light illuminated an empty hallway. A frigid breeze flowed toward her. The main entryway must not be closed. She’d bet the farm on Facebook her neighbor was responsible. The guy was strange. He rode his bike through the city with an attached boom box blasting away day or night.
    She ran across the hall and banged on the door. “Hello, hello, you left the door open.”
    The silence from his apartment yanked on her nerves. Okay, she’d shut the entryway. She retreated to her kitchen and grabbed her gun. She