Free Murder in the Paperback Parlor by Ellery Adams Page B

the room, women were frozen in place.
    Taking advantage of the silence, Sinclair commanded everyone to return to their seats.
    â€œThere is no cause for such commotion,” he reprimanded the group. “There are plenty of books for all. To prevent further chaos, I will now call you by row. If you cannot maintain order, then no one will receive a copy.”
    The women shuffled to their seats except for Maria Stone. “I have be the first person to get that book. I’m Ms. York’s biggest fan! I deserve to be first!”
    Sinclair’s eyes narrowed. “You will return to your seat, young lady, or I’ll have you escorted from the premises.”
    Maria glared at him, but eventually stomped back to her chair. She didn’t sit, however. She stood with her arms folded, a murderous expression on her face.
    Jane surveyed the crowd. Women examined angry, red scratches or fresh bruises on their arms or legs. Jane was appalled to see a trickle of blood on Mrs. Pratt’s forehead. Luckily, Anna carried a small first-aid kit in her purse and was already applying a cotton pad to the laceration.
    On the dais, Barbara, Ciara, and Georgia were huddled close together in fear. Rosamund York, however, was the picture of calm. She wore a smug smile and surveyed the room with a self-satisfied expression.
    She’s pleased because her fans are willing to trample one another—to draw blood, for crying out loud—to get their hands on her book.
    â€œThese aren’t exactly the gentle readers I imagined,” Jane muttered darkly. “If the rest of the week’s events are like this, my martial arts skills are going to be put to thetest.”

FIVE
    When Sterling returned from driving the twins to school, he called Jane into his office, which doubled as the video surveillance room.
    â€œThis needs to be a private meeting,” He shut the door and locked it. “I’ve already shown this feed to the rest of the Fins, but you need to see it too.”
    Jane sat in a chair facing the bank of small television screens while Sterling lifted the framed map of Virginia off its wall hooks, revealing four more screens.
    The screens showed a live, around-the-clock feed of the front driveway, back terrace, lobby, and the hallways leading to the guest rooms. Sterling’s hidden screens focused on less visible areas of the resort.
    At the moment, three of the four screens were active, but the action on the last screen had been frozen. Jane immediately recognized the door to the Romance and Roses Suite.
    â€œI don’t think I’m going to like this matinee, am I?” she asked, staring at the blurred shadow of a person standing outside the guest room.
    â€œProbably not,” Sterling said and hit the play button.
    The figure came to life. A woman, Jane realized, pacedback and forth in a highly agitated state, like a person on the verge of making a serious mistake. “It’s as though she’s gathering her courage,” Jane murmured.
    â€œButterworth would be impressed by your ability to read her body language,” Sterling said. “Especially since you haven’t had your first lesson with him on the subject yet.”
    Jane barely registered the compliment. She was too anxious to see what the pacing figure would do. “I recognize her clothes,” she cried softly. “The white blouse, black skirt, and the bead necklace. It’s Maria Stone, the woman who started the chaos at the end of last night’s auction.”
    â€œThat’s correct. Keep watching. By the time the recording is finished, Sinclair will be here to review what he’s learned about Ms. Stone.”
    Jane returned her attention to the screen where Maria Stone was raking her hands through her hair, destroying the sleek ponytail she’d worn earlier that night. Jane glanced at the time stamp in the corner of the screen. “It’s just after midnight. What was she doing up so