Free Never Thwart a Thespian: Volume 8 (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series) by Edie Claire Page B

to whisper in Leigh’s ear. “I offered them all a significant bonus if the work gets done on time. But either they all get it, or no one does.” She chuckled. “I don’t have to say a word.”
    Leigh’s gaze returned to the case in her hands. It was possible that a member of the Young Businessmen’s Chamber could have donated the case to the cause. But she doubted it. The initials would be an unlikely coincidence; furthermore, the briefcase was real leather, well made, and in good shape before the pyromaniacs got hold of it. Why would its owner give it up? It made more sense that the case had actually belonged to Andrew Marconi, but that the police search had missed it somehow.
    Leigh tried hard to think of a plausible, non-alarming reason why the man might have left his briefcase not at his home or his office or at one of his other established businesses, but in a vacant building. She failed.
    “Mom?” Allison asked quietly, breaking into Leigh’s distinctly unpleasant thoughts. “Do you think we should show it to Aunt Mo? Just in case?”
    Leigh suppressed a sigh. “Yes,” she answered bleakly. “I do.”
    ***
    “Chew Man!” Maura cried gleefully as “Chewie,” Leigh’s corgi, barreled into the detective’s bedroom in a frenzy of bouncing, sniffing and surveying. Within seconds he had zoned in on an area of intense interest underneath the bed, and his front half disappeared from view.
    “Found that flax seed cracker, did you?” Maura chuckled warmly. “I was wondering where that went.”
    After a few seconds, Chewie wiggled his elongated body back out, licked his lips, and jumped up to put his front paws on the side of Maura’s mattress. “Come on up, boy!” she invited.
    “I don’t think he needs—” Leigh protested, but she was too late. Allison had already lifted up the dog’s back end and propelled him onto the mattress, where he hustled toward Maura’s head and cuddled obligingly beneath her arm.
    “Dog therapy,” Maura announced with a smile. “Perfect. Lowers the blood pressure, I hear.”
    “I thought you might like to see him,” Allison said with a smile.
    “You were right,” Maura praised. “And I’m glad you came too, Allie. Let’s see that eye… Sheesh, that’s nothing! I look worse than that after an all-night stake out. You feeling all right?”
    Once Allison assured that she was feeling fine, Maura’s gaze moved to Leigh. “Did I miss the memo? Are we having a meeting? Discussing methods of arson, maybe?”
    Leigh looked down at the scorched briefcase in her hands. Maura always did take note of details.
    “We found it at Aunt Bess’s theater building,” Allison explained, hopping up onto the foot of the bed. “The people who ran the haunted houses burned it on purpose, but nobody knows how it got there.” She held out her hands for the briefcase, then passed it up the bed to Maura. “Look at the monogram, Aunt Mo!”
    Maura turned the case over carefully, examining the zippers and peering into all the pockets as Leigh had done. When her fingers moved over the debossed monogram, the trace of a smile curved her lips. “Allie,” she said smoothly, “hand me that file marked ‘Marconi,’ would you?”
    Allison quickly located the manila folder on the card table and handed it to the detective, who was wedged between the dog on one side and the case on the other.
    Maura opened the folder and glanced inside. Her smile widened. “Andrew James Marconi,” she announced. “Good work, Allie. I think you may have something here.”
    The girl’s face beamed.
    “Tell me again what you know about it,” Maura asked. “Are you sure it was found inside the building?”
    Leigh and Allison explained what little they knew about the history of the briefcase, and Maura’s brow furrowed. “Not much chance of decent prints,” she said thoughtfully, “after all this time and so many people handling it. The fact that it’s been smeared with ash doesn’t help either.