Free Murder in Wonderland by Leslie Leigh

sending urgent signals to her entire system to get back into that house and stay there.
                  She rushed back in and shut the door and held it shut with two hands flat against it for a minute. Slowly she relaxed, but only slightly.
                  She read the note again, almost in disbelief. Disbelief because she'd failed to see the reference to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland until this moment. Now it seemed to leap right off the paper: The Queen of Hearts had Alice participate in a game of croquet where all the mallets were live flamingos.
                  To her knowledge there were no flamingos anywhere in Verdenier. There wasn't even a zoo.
                  She was beginning to wonder how old Detective Tomlin was doing on his case. He was in possession of her diary and was reading it with moist lips. It infuriated her to no end. No doubt there was a reference here and there to how much she disliked Tori Cardinal. No doubt there was a reference or two to wanting to be a member of the social elite of the Tori Cardinal variety. And no doubt, Detective Harry Tomlin was making assumptions left and right to pin a murder rap on her with this flimsy motive, and all because he couldn’t stand the fact that a woman had told him off. She knew this had to be it. What could he possibly have on her?
                  Or was there something more sinister? June Brody's paranoid tale came back to her now. What if there was someone listening in on them at the library? How could she be so sure? Sure, she thought the place was safe, but wouldn’t a cop know that the best time to strike was when a person felt safe?
                  And who was this friend? Who had access to this info? Sgt. Beauchenne? He was relatively new to this precinct. Perhaps he arrived to a den of iniquity, as the phrase went. But then there was the Lewis Carroll reference. Who knew Allie well enough?
                  The questions fell like glitter around her. Answering them was an impossible task. There were too many odds and ends, like the parts of the Mock Turtle from Wonderland. This whole case surrounding her was a strange beast made from scraps.
                  An idea occurred to her. Someone she hadn't really discussed the case with. Someone who knew her almost as well as Del knew her, but also knew Alice.
                  She texted Ben and asked him to come and pick her up. She'd explain why when they got back to his house.
                  That is, if he didn’t already know why.

5
     
                  It's amazing how safe one can feel in the home of a friend. Then again, she'd felt safe in the library too.
                  She had to put that out of her head.
                  She was glad to know Ben. A retired lawyer, Ben had reinvented himself as an eccentric composer of music, an artist, an outsider with the luxury of having the best excuse to be one. She sat on his couch with her hands folded over her knee while he played her selections from the musical he was hoping to pitch to a Broadway producer in May.
                  But to enjoy it meant she had to listen, and to listen meant that her mind had to be unencumbered. Thank God Ben was a good enough friend to notice this when he swung around on the piano bench to get her opinion.
                  "Whoa, sweetheart. My playing is brilliant and my music is phenomenal, which means something has to be troubling you. Out with it."
                  "So it wasn't you."
                  "What wasn't me?"
                  "Ben, is it safe to talk here? You have to tell me."
                  He rose from the piano and walked over to her softly. "Of course. Sweetheart, what's the matter?"
                  "I received an anonymous note. It said that Detective Tomlin was