Free A Romantic Way to Die by Bill Crider

was using her in his attempt to become the cover boy for every historical romance that was published.
    There were several other people who didn’t come off so well, too, including a well-known writer named Corrinna Bayer, who bore a powerful physical resemblance to Serena Thayer, though Rhodes hoped her personal qualities were different. She had quite a temper in the book, and she was sleeping with Jerry Dan Gosling in the hope that he would insist on doing her covers to the exclusion of all others.
    Jerry Dan’s motives were no better. He was sleeping with every writer and agent he could, his motive being a not-so-secret desire to appear on the cover of every historical romance novel published, a desire that didn’t sit too well with Corrinna Bayer.
    Another character, a fiery redhead named Lorraine Denbow, came off somewhat better. She was pursued by men, but she always fended them off until they married her. She’d been married quite often.
    There were some pretty sexy passages, and the book reminded Rhodes vaguely of something he’d read many years ago by someone named Harold Robbins. Lots of intrigue, plenty of sex. Maybe that’s what people wanted in mystery novels these days.
    Rhodes went back into the office and put the manuscript back in the box. He wondered what Ruth Grady would make of it. He decided to give it to her and let her read it later that day.
    But first he was going back to Obert and have a look in those trees. He was going to let Billy Quentin know he was there, though. He didn’t want to take a chance with that shotgun.
     
     
    Rhodes stopped for lunch on the way to Obert. There was a Pizza Hut on the road out of town, and Rhodes hadn’t had a pizza in a long time, not unless he counted the vegetarian pizzas that Ivy made with no-fat cheese and no-fat pizza sauce. And Rhodes definitely didn’t count those at all. He was in the mood for some stringy mozzarella and some pepperoni that wasn’t made out of tofu.
    But, telling himself that he was doing the virtuous thing, he didn’t order a large pizza, or even a medium. He got the personal-size pan pizza, which he was certain had only a minimal number of calories and fat grams.
    He had a Dr Pepper, too, but that didn’t really count because it was served over ice in a paper cup. It didn’t taste so much like a Dr Pepper as it did a glass of fizzy brown water that had been soaking in cardboard for weeks. Rhodes wouldn’t have ordered one at all if he’d thought he could get a Dr Pepper in a plastic bottle, or even a can, but the Pizza Hut didn’t work that way.
    After he’d eaten, which didn’t take long, Rhodes drove to Obert. He went past the college campus and straight down the hill to Billy Quentin’s house. Quentin wasn’t at home, so Rhodes left a note on his front door while lovable furry old Grover barked and barked.
    Rhodes had no idea what he was looking for, but he stayed in the woods for more than two hours, poring over the ground and hoping to find something that might prove to be a tie-in to the murder, or at least something that might help him identify the woman that Mrs. Appleby and Claude had seen.
    He hadn’t found anything of interest and was about to give up when something caught his eye. He walked over to a clump of leaves and stooped down to pick up what appeared to be a piece of cloth, which is exactly what it was. But it was more than that, too. It was a black crew sock.
    Rhodes got a stick off the ground and picked up the sock with it. Then he tried to figure out what it meant.
    A naked woman in black crew socks? Rhodes didn’t think so. Besides, how could the sock have come off her foot?
    And did black crew socks go with red bikini panties? Rhodes didn’t have much fashion sense, but crew socks and bikini panties seemed an odd combination.
    The sock hadn’t been there long, however. It had been right on top of the ground, and it was fairly clean, with only a leaf clinging to it.
    Rhodes looked around for