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They hustled from the parking lot and entered the building, sweeping through the lobby. Shocker, Ashley waited for them at the reception desk. A first. The reporter tapped one blood-red stiletto against the tile floor, impatient. She tucked a tendril of curly hair behind her ear and waved at Jane. Noticing Conrad’s presence, she pursed her lips. But she also motioned them over, letting them bypass security without checking in.
Ashley led them down a hallway and into her office. A wall of monitors dominated the small room, all displaying various threads on the Headliner. As usual, she’d covered up her white board with a sheet secured by binder clips, and oh, Jane longed for a peek. She and Conrad claimed seats on one side of the desk, and Ashley sank into the chair on the other.
All business, the reporter linked her hands, rested her weight on her elbows and leaned forward. “I’m not revealing a single piece of information until you issue a statement about discovering Ms. Thorton.”
“That’s funny, because I’m not giving a statement until you offer proof of your own innocence.” Two could play this game.
Hmm. Did Ashley enjoy playing other games?
“That is proof I require as well.” Conrad, being Conrad, adopted his cold detective face. He withdrew a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket and flipped to a specific page. “You were seen visiting the tearoom the morning of the murder.”
She was? Jane had clocked Ashley’s presence in the crowd but hadn’t known she’d visited Hannah earlier that same day. Um, why hadn’t the good sheriff told her of this development sooner?
Conrad’s focus on Ashley remained steady. She peered back at him, unwavering.
Not knowing what else to do, Jane joined the staring contest. The three of them continued their silent showdown. Only the hum of the computer fan filled the small space.
“Fine!” Ashley burst out. “You convinced me. I’ll talk first.” She stood and moved to the white board, lifting the covering to reveal candid photos of Hannah, Mason and Abigail. “I’ve been working on a story I’ve titled Gold Rush Murders. It’s about the men and women of Aurelian Hills who recently met violent ends because of the deadly combination of greed and a relationship gone bad. Dr. Hotchkins. Anna Irons. Anthony Miller. Even Josh Gunn and his love affair with his job.”
“How does this connect with Hannah?” Jane asked, only a little—lot—envious over Ashley’s amazing title. “Also, I should probably mention I’m a writer now, and penning a similar story from a different angle. Currently, there’s a sexy ghost berserker in the mix. I just wanted you to know. So please, do continue.” Bonus: maybe something the other woman said would spark Jane’s imagination, and she’d finally figure out her book’s ending.
Ashley waved a hand through the air. “I’ll deal with your toe dip into writing later. My story deals with real people going after other people’s money. Hannah—” She used a pen to specify the teashop owner “—is a focal point. The morning of her death, she returned a text I’d sent the night before, agreeing to be interviewed at the shop. But when I got there, she pretended to be surprised by my presence and my questions about her attempt to get a cut of her ex-husband’s inheritance.”
Wow, wow, wow. Information bombs exploded, one after the other. Motives abounded for both Abigail and Mason. And he did fit Lucy’s description of the killer. Perhaps Jane was right in the beginning, and he and Abigail had worked together, both getting revenge against their enemies. But were they capable of hunting Lucy? And what had kept Lucy from calling Jane with the killer’s details? Why arrange an alley meetup?
Okay, she would ponder Lucy later.
Why hadn’t Abigail and Mason attempted to frame Jane for Hannah’s murder? Wouldn’t that be true revenge? Abigail got rid of a potential romantic rival and pinned it on the girl she’d viewed as a pest since grade school. Also, how was playing cat-and-mouse like this revenge? Unless the game was meant for Conrad, while he mourned Jane’s death after she’d succumbed to her injuries? An idea she had dismissed after opening the red envelope. Exactly what the killer hoped?
“I’d like to check your phone,” Conrad told Ashley.
The reporter keyed up her cell and showed him the exchange.
He made a notation on the pad after eyeing the screen. “That isn’t Ms. Thorton’s number.”
She gaped. “I communicated with someone pretending to be Hannah?”
Score another point for the killer.
Conrad ignored Ashley’s question and returned to his own track. “Detail Ms. Thorton’s response to your questions for me.”
“After an initial breakdown, Hannah admitted the Treasure Room had been hemorrhaging money for a while, and her ex was blowing his inheritance on a quote unquote cash stealing cow. Hannah felt he owed her for all the wasted years she’d devoted to their marriage and thought she had good legal standing for a case.”
Hannah had confessed to all that? To a reporter? Jane wasn’t convinced. Could Lucy verify? “Was anyone with her?” Had Ashley spotted the former bank loan officer?
“No, she was alone, as far as I could tell. And when I left, she was alive. Security footage will prove this. She walked me to the door and locked up.”
Locked up? And yet, Jane had strolled right in.
Conrad made another notation. “How did you originally discover Hannah’s intention to gain access to her ex-husband’s money?”
“An anonymous source alerted me. And no, I’m not just saying that. I don’t know their identity. They kept it a secret.” Ashley’s gaze shot to Jane. “Why did you visit Ms. Thorton?”
“I was invited to the book club.” Jane scooted to the edge of her chair. “How did the source keep their identity secret?”
“Some kind of voice disguising device.”
Ding, ding, ding. The same device used by the murderer, who then called the authorities to report Jane’s injuries?
