4c392a139708e5efb30cc267dbb0c768

“Ostensibly it did,” the publisher agreed. “I never believed for one minute he was leaving us. We have an entire team devoted to Chris. He had no reason to look elsewhere.”

“So you didn’t get into a fight with him and kill him?” asked Chase, cocking an eyebrow.

“Certainly not! How ridiculous. Chris and I were old friends. I would never hurt him.”

His statement didn’t strike Odelia as duplicitous. In fact he seemed shocked at the accusation he killed his friend. She decided to try a different tack. “Angelique and Trey Ackerman claim they saw you at the library. They were leaving as you arrived. Is this true?”

Buckerfield nodded.“Yes, it is. I was surprised to see them, to be honest. Chris had made no secret that he’d started divorce proceedings.”

“So he was serious about his affair with Miss Kulcheski,” said Chase.

“He was. Deadly serious. Pardon me,” he quickly added, realizing the insensitivity of his choice of words. “Chris and Angelique’s marriage was in trouble long before Chris met Stacey. So it didn’t come as a great surprise when he told me what was going on. Angelique didn’t take it well,and neither did Trey, who’d chosen to side with his mother and resented his father a great deal. It pained Chris but there was nothing he could do about it. The heart wants what it wants.” He gave them a sad smile. “And to think I introduced Chris and Stacey at BookExpo America last year. BookExpo America is the largest book fair in the States. I could see Chris and Stacey hit it off immediately. Never in my wildest dreams could I have foreseen it would lead to this.” He touched the silk scarf around his neck and tugged it thoughtfully. “You’ll probably think it’s very insensitive of me to organize this party.”

“The thought had occurred to us,” Chase said with a nod of the head.

“I planned this months ago. Impossible to call it off. Only now I’ll dedicate the gathering to Chris. I’ve prepared a commemorative speech. A eulogy if you will.” He unearthed a folded up piece of paper from his vest pocket and fumbled with it for a moment before returning it. “I’m going to miss Chris. He really was a good friend.”

“One more question,” said Chase. “Do you remember seeing Rockwell Burke? He says he left as you arrived.”

Buckerfield grimaced.“I do. I told him not to leave. He’d promised to moderate the event and I thought it cowardly of him not to go through with it. He seemed to have made up his mind, though. Said he didn’t want to be accused of selling out by making nice with Chris Ackerman, who he seemed to consider his mortalenemy.”

“And when you arrived Chris Ackerman was still alive,” said Odelia musingly.

“And so he was when I left,” Buckerfield insisted. He glanced at his watch. “And now if you’ll excuse me. I really have to attend to my guests. If you want to stay, please do.” He waited for a moment, and when Chase nodded his assent, he gratefully rose to his feet and walked out with surprising alacrity and grace for a man of his substantial bulk.

“So what do you think?” asked Chase.

“I think he’s telling the truth,” said Odelia.

“I think so, too. Which means…”

“Angelique and Trey Ackerman are off the hook, and so is Rockwell Burke.”

“Now if only we could determine who of the other three is the man we’re looking for…”

And they were both lost in thought for a moment when suddenly loud screams came to Odelia’s ear. They seemed to come from outside, and when she got up to look through the salon window, she saw that Buckerfield’s guests all stood staring up at something.

“What’s going on?” Chase asked as he joined her.

“No idea.”

Chase opened the window and leaned out, looking up.“Oh, hell,” he said.

A jolt of premonition sliced through Odelia.“What is it?”

He retracted his head.“It’s Max. He’s dangling from the gutter.”

Chapter 36

I know, I know. Cats don’t usually dangle from gutters. And I wasn’t! I was dangling from a protuberance. Some thingamajig jutting out of the wall. Possibly an ancient piece of flagpole or lightning rod or what was left of a bust dedicated to the manor’s original owners. At any rate, the iron rod—whatever it was—had effectively saved my life. The striped cat’s kick had taken me by surprise to the extent that I’d gone over the edge without having the presence of mind to stick out a paw when I whizzed past the gutter and into the precipice.

By the time my survival instincts finally kicked in, I was one floor down, with the ground rising up fast. In desperation I’d grabbed at the wall, and that’s when this rod turned up out of the blue and I managed to save myself. The bad news was that I was now dangling between the second and third floor, with no way to go but down. Cats may be capable of gravity-defying feats of acrobatics but we’re not exactly Spider-Man. We can’t scale walls!

So there I was, wondering how I was going to save myself from my predicament when suddenly a window below me opened and Chase’s head appeared.

“Hey, buddy,” he said.

“Hey, Chase,” I said, even though I knew he couldn’t understand feline.