A Motor for Murder (Veronica Margreve Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

them, they confirmed everyone who came in during the entire day of the party was either invited as a guest or was an employee of the catering company.”
    “And the footage hasn’t been tampered with?”
    He gave me a quick look. “No, it hasn’t; we’ve double checked everything with the footage recorded and stored by the security company.”
    He got up and handed me a card. “If you think of anything else, please let me know.” I promised to do so, and he went out the front door.
     

 
    5
    As things were sinking in, I was realizing that I – together with pretty much anyone else at the party – was a suspect. Somehow, being involved in a murder at a fancy party didn’t seem as thrilling in real life as it does in a book or a movie! In fact, I was feeling downright dismal – for George; for Rita, who had to come to terms with the fact that her husband was murdered; for the rest of the party guests and wait staff, who realized they might have met a murderer (and might perhaps think that they could have prevented the death if they had been in the right place at the right time).
     
    Events of the previous evening were crowding in my mind. Paul had gone to talk to George right before George fell out of that window. Was Paul the killer? I remembered his sour mood that evening. At least, he would have to be the main suspect at this point. The police said they've talked to him already. Did that mean they didn’t consider him a suspect?
     
    I thought I should call Rita, check on how she was doing.  I didn’t know how appropriate that would be, under the circumstances, but writing an e-mail felt too impersonal and disconnected.
    She picked up the phone on the fifth ring.
    “Hello?” Her voice sounded like she spent all night trying to herd zombies. I immediately regretted calling her instead of, say, texting. Obviously, my call was going to be a nuisance to her.
    “Hi, it's Veronica.” I said, silently kicking myself and plotting how best to cut the conversation short and not burden Rita further.
    “Oh hi... I'm actually glad you called. It's good hearing from one of my own friends for a change – a lot of the people at the party were George's friends, or those who only knew us together.”
    “Did I wake you? How are you holding up?”
    “Oh... no you didn’t wake me. It's a nightmare. I can't believe George is gone. I mean, we had our problems, but still, to wake up in the morning and remember that he is dead!..” Her voice trailed off.
    “I'm sorry.” There was silence on the phone.
    “Do you need anything? Can I do anything for you?” I said awkwardly.
    “No, thank you.”
    “Well, I just wanted to check on you.”
    There was silence again. Finally, I swallowed my feeling of awkwardness and brought up the next subject.
    “Did you hear from the police today?”
    “Yes. They said the death was intentional. I'm sure you've talked to them – they said they were going to question all the guests again because of that.”
    “Yeah, I had a talk with Detective Davis this morning. I was extremely shocked to hear. Obviously, it must have been so much worse for you... with… with everything...” I didn't know what to say next, having tied myself into this conversational knot of mumbling insensitivity. “Are they asking you a lot of questions?”
    “They were here again today. I mean, in the morning, around 8 am. They stayed a couple of hours.”
    “It must have been tough. How did it go?”
    “I think they suspect me.”
    “Why? Whatever gave them that idea?”
    “Well, I am the beneficiary of George's estate, I assume. And haven't you heard – it’s always the spouse?” Rita gave a small bitter laugh. Yes, I had indeed heard it – that people are most likely to be killed by those they know, and family and spouse are most probable.
    “When I talked to officer Davis today, I also thought he suspected me, even though I didn’t even know George! I think that's just the vibe they give off, to