Free 04 Lowcountry Bordello by Susan M. Boyer Page A

I doubt he’d’ve done it if he’d known that’s what he was doing.” I filled Nate in.
    “That’s an awfully tight timeline.”
    “Tell me about it.” I typed it into a spreadsheet. “If everyone is telling the truth, someone was killed in the parlor between seven thirty and seven forty. It still could’ve been Seth. Barely.”
    “And if everyone is not telling us the truth, it could’ve been Raylan, Robert, or Olivia.”
    Something soured in my stomach and crept toward the back of my throat. “Or all three of them could’ve been a party to it.”
    I dug into public records and subscription databases for background on Thurston Middleton. Nate watched out the window, sometimes through the binoculars, sometimes through the camera screen.
    Occasionally he went into the bathroom for a different vantage point. We were preparing for battle.
    “Yes, you are.” Colleen popped in. She sat cross-legged on thin air right in front of me, her back to the window.
    I looked up at her. Have you learned anything helpful ?
    “Long-term,” said Colleen, “the best way to protect Robert and Olivia is for her to convince Miss Dean to evict all the tenants and sell that house and move over to Bishop Gadsden. It’s a lovely retirement village over on James Island.”
    I know where Bishop Gadsden is. I meant did you learn anything about what went on in that house last night ?
    “Nothing common sense hasn’t already told you. Thurston Middleton departed for the next life from that parlor at seven thirty-five last night.”
    Was he the intended victim? Can you at least tell me that much?
    “I can tell you this. Because he’s on the Stella Maris town council, and therefore important to my mission, I would’ve known if Robert were in mortal danger. No one intended to kill him.”
    That helps, thanks.
    “Liz?” Nate looked at me quizzically. “Everything all right? You’re staring at that window awfully hard.”
    “Just thinking.” I gave him my best imitation of a reassuring smile.
    Make sure you get all the girls out of harm’s way before you turn this over to Sonny. And know that I’ll be with Olivia when she needs me . And then she was gone.
    What had I been thinking about? Something important hid from me in a dark corner of my mind. The pineapple. I called Olivia. “I need you to think back to last night. Close your eyes and visualize what you saw.”
    “All right,” she said, subdued.
    “That wooden pineapple was on the fireplace mantel near the far right-hand side of the room when you and I went into the parlor last night.”
    “Someone must’ve cleaned it off and put it back while I was waiting for you,” she said.
    “Is that where it belongs? On the mantel?” I asked.
    “That’s right,” she said.
    “And the body on the rug, how was it positioned? Which way was his head pointing?” I asked.
    “Towards the door,” she said.
    “Thanks, Olivia.” I ended the call and told Nate what she’d said.
    Nate said, “He was on his way out when he was struck from behind with an object from the other side of the room.”
    “Which implies several things,” I said. “He wasn’t attacked by someone who tiptoed into the room behind him. He had to have known someone else was in the room. They would’ve interacted, maybe argued.”
    “The light would’ve likely been on when the murder occurred—not turned on after the fact. Hard to imagine one of them wouldn’t have turned on the light.”
    “Exactly. I’ve been in that room in the dark. For someone to locate the murder weapon and strike with accuracy as the victim was leaving without stumbling over the coffee table…that’s highly implausible. Our culprit knew exactly who he or she was killing.”

Seven

      
    At five ’til twelve, Olivia texted me: Almost there.
    “Nate,” I said.
    “I’m headed down. Video’s rolling.” He hustled across the room and out the door.
    I moved to the left-front window and cracked it a few inches. Then I