Free Guidebook to Murder by Lynn Cahoon Page A

are?”
    â€œAdmiring your beautiful house caused me to forget my manners. My name is Eric Ammond.”
    I stiffened, pulling my hand away from his. “Mayor Baylor’s friend. Well, you wasted your time. I’m not selling. Besides, under the conditions of the will, I can’t sell.”
    â€œIt’s never a waste of time to meet such a beautiful woman.” He studied me, scanning my body from head to toe. “It is true. I am interested in buying your lovely home. Can we go inside and talk about what I have to offer?” He put his hand on my shoulder and motioned to the front door.
    â€œI don’t think we have anything to talk about, unless you need relationship advice on how to be a better boyfriend to Bambi.” What? I was supposed to fall over myself just because he was probably the most handsome man I had ever met, here or anywhere?
    Eric laughed. “So you’ve met my beautiful Bambi. She is the apple of my eye, so light and positive. But you are dark and brooding, intelligent, and amazing. You and I would have a good time, believe me.”
    I shrugged out from under his hand and headed to the house. “Not interested. In you or selling the house, in case you were confused.”
    â€œNot even if I offer three times the market rate for this sad little house?”
    â€œI thought you said the house was beautiful.”
    He laughed. “The site will be as soon as I tear the eyesore down and put up my condos.”
    â€œThe answer is still no.” I shut the door and engaged the dead bolt, hoping he’d hear the click. I couldn’t believe it. He had played the sex card to trick me into selling him the house. Even knowing I knew he had a girlfriend, he’d hit on me. Too bad the beautiful man was evil incarnate.
    The mayor’s warning about accepting Mr. Ammond’s offer echoed in my head, and I couldn’t help but wonder what strings he’d pull now.

Chapter 5
    S itting in Miss Emily’s kitchen—scratch that, my kitchen—the next morning, I checked my growing to-do list. The funeral had been planned and scheduled for Friday. Check. Detective King had given permission for the body to be buried, which wasn’t the way they did it on television, where they kept the murder victim on ice until the vile murderer was caught. But I guess things go differently in real life.
    I had two days free to clean the house and decide what I wanted to keep. An antiques dealer from Bakerstown had left his card with Doc Ames, saying he’d be glad to drive out to appraise anything I wanted to sell. I paper-clipped his card to my list and poured another cup of coffee. Looking at my calendar, I could get the majority of these projects completed and be back to my normal life by next Tuesday. And Aunt Jackie wouldn’t even miss her next cruise.
    The reception would be at the Methodist church right after the service. The church women’s group was responsible for providing the food and drinks. Other than sending a thank-you note afterward, half check. Doc Ames had given me a list of what was happening when. When I asked what I needed to do, he said the arrangements had all been made. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t just called me. I’m not a personal-touch kind of girl.
    Calling? My heart sank. I told Amy I’d call her back last night.
    I pulled a dead cell phone out of my purse. I’d forgotten to put it on the charger. I was surprised she hadn’t shown up on my doorstep, sleeping bag in hand. Then I remembered she was on that scouting trip. Amy chaired the local surfer group, and they sponsored some big-deal competition each year.
    I pulled the charger cord out of my bag and found a plug-in on the kitchen wall. I headed out to the garage to get some boxes. I might as well start in the kitchen.
    Two hours later, I had dishes stacked on the counter, boxes filled with items for the antique dealer and six bags of trash. I