Free You Don't Know Jack by Adrianne Lee Page A

introduce me to Hawks, and recommend Hawks read my manuscript."
    "Well, you can't believe everything posted on Twitter. They're always claiming some movie star or other is dead, when they aren't. Key words: Gossip Central."
    It did seem anyone could post something on a social network and soon everyone was adding their opinion and embellishing on the original post even if the original post was false. Personally, I didn't Twitter. Or tweet. Or Facebook. Or Google Plus. I can barely keep up with texting given all my jobs and writing and the Crain Sisters. "We'll need to confirm all rumors pertaining to our suspects."
    He was typing again. "Even rumors about Lars?"
    "What rumors about Lars?"
    "Some folks are saying Lars had major writer's block."
    "I get writer's block." Usually because I've written myself into a corner. "It goes with the territory, but it seldom lasts long."
    "They're saying his was so bad he plagiarized his last book. The one he was sued over."
    I remembered the case. A woman dragged Lars to court for stealing her story. She claimed she'd shown it to him at a conference. The judge sided with Lars. "Do you remember who the woman was?"
    "No one ever saw her. She sent her lawyer to court. But I can dig up her name."
    "Do it. Anyone else?"
    He sighed. "I heard a rumor a couple of weeks ago that I didn't put much stock in, but maybe we should check it out. Patricia Pepper, aka Peppermint Patty, of The Peppered Page bookstores in Bellevue and on Bainbridge Island, was allegedly stalking Lars."
    "Stalking him?" I pulled into the Maplewood Greens parking lot. The cold windy day discouraged golfers, but the lot was filling quickly with arrivals for Lars' send off. "Why would a bookseller stalk an author? Wouldn't he do book signings in her stores?"
    "According to the rumor, Peppermint Patty was obsessed with Lars. I heard he was trying to get a restraining order against her."
    "You mean she was making threats or was maybe dangerous?"
    "I heard she thinks Lars was her husband or fiancé."
    Didn't Peppermint Patty know Lars was gay? "Sounds like she's an erotomaniac."
    "A what?"
    "I watched a documentary on the Discovery Channel, or the Lifetime Channel about it. The gist is, some guy will see a woman on TV or in the movies and become fixated. They actually believe the starlet or model or whoever is personally involved with them. They develop a whole fantasy world around the object of their fixation. Often these fantasies turn violent."
    "That's just wrong." Apollo undid his seat belt. He looked worried. "I'm pretty sure I saw Batty Patty at the service earlier."
    "Maybe she'll be here, too.
    "That's what worries me."
    "Put her on the list." Crazy dangerous made for good suspects — as did the cheated and betrayed.
    I stepped from my car, feeling the chill of the wind right through my winter coat. I always thought Lars was a dog, but wow, if he was as disloyal as rumors suggested, I owed canines everywhere an apology. Even junkyard dogs are loyal. Lars didn't seem to have a loyal bone in his body. Of course, his disloyalty to me had once seemed like a godsend. It brought Stone Maddox back into my life in a passionate firestorm, and Stone, bless him, mended my shattered ego and revived my squelched libido with the skill of a master mechanic making a mishandled motor purr.
    Lately, it didn't seem much of a favor, what with my motor in constant sputter-mode, and my master mechanic withholding his magical tools.
    Apollo licked his lips. "I know you said you could alibi Bruce, but you should know there is a possibility that Lars was about to leave him."
    I turned wide eyes on my BFF. "Do you think that's true?"
    "Maybe..."
    I thought about it a moment. "Hmmm..."
    "Bruce might have hired someone to kill Lars..."
    I nodded. "He's back on the list."
    "Tippy top."
    I pictured Nancy Grace giving us a thumbs up.
    We hurried inside the one story building, into a wide corridor and through the double doors of the banquet room. Bruce