The Murder of a Queen Bee Read Online Free PDF Page A

died of smoke inhalation? That’s kind of hard to think that might have happened.”
    â€œIndeed,” said Millie. “I’d think if she were still alive, she would have tried to escape, unless she was incapacitated, of course. But to answer your question, if she was in the car, breathing in smoke, we will undoubtedly see evidence of soot in her lungs during the autopsy.” Millie flashed a sympathetic smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Unfortunately, we’ll just have to wait and see what secrets her body gives up.”
    After Millie left, with Fiona’s body bagged and tagged in the back of the coroner’s van, Abby spotted Chief Bob Allen walking toward her, Otto, and Kat. Abby groaned. “Okay, guys. This is where I say, ‘See you later.’” She knew that Kat and Otto would understand the strained relationship between their boss and her. The tension between them was old history.
    â€œUnderstood. Go,” Kat urged.
    Otto nodded.
    Abby gave them both quick hugs before hurrying back to her car. Otto and Kat were smart, diligent cops. Abby knew they would draw up a time line for the last twenty-four hours of Fiona’s life. They would make a list of the people with whom she’d had contact and would make note of the reasons Fiona had associated with them. A person of interest would soon emerge. Abby knew that killers always had a relationship with their victims—however fleeting.
    Passing through town, Abby stopped by the doggy spa to pick up Sugar.
    â€œZowie! Somebody looks better for an overnight stay at the Diggity Do,” she said, hugging Sugar, who seemed just as eager to see her. After taking the leash from the worker at the spa for pets, Abby walked an excited Sugar to the Jeep. She patted the car seat, and Sugar hopped in. Her tail wagged almost as hard as she panted.
    Fifteen minutes later, back on the farmette, Abby poured herself a cup of cold tea from the pot she and Kat had abandoned. She strolled with Sugar from the patio to the backyard and sank onto the seat of the free-standing porch swing that she’d placed between two apricot trees. The cloying, sweet fragrance of citrus blooms permeated the air. A family of twenty crows that had taken up residence in the tall eucalyptus tree on the vacant wooded acre behind her property cawed in a raucous chorus. Abby rocked on the swing, hoping to push out the images stuck in her mind, images that sickened her as she thought about how Fiona might have died at the hands of her killer. What had been troubling Fiona? Why had she wanted advice from someone who had worked in law enforcement? Abby knew she might never get the answers to those questions, but she was sure going to try.
    Dusk descended like a diaphanous veil over the farmette. Its hues of silvery violet and pale lavender reframed the landscape. A barn owl winged its way overhead, then disappeared into the dark canopy of trees. Abby struggled to fight back tears, which finally overtook her, hot and salty, spilling down her cheeks, wetting the fabric of the retro-hippie-chic peasant dress that Fiona would never see.
    Abby rocked until the moon rose. Until her stomach was no longer knotted. Until her heart hammered no more. Her thoughts turned to the usual suspects: husband, boyfriend, known associates, and people harboring grudges.
    Ancient Wisdom Botanicals had opened less than a year ago—a year after Fiona and her husband, Tom Davidson Dodge, had separated. He lived most of the time at the commune, in an old VW bus that bore the rainbow colors and peace symbols of a bygone era and rested on railroad ties and concrete blocks. Tom had gotten a good deal on the van from a mountain mechanic who’d kept it over a dispute about payment for repairs the mechanic had done. But why, after separating, had Fiona and Tom occasionally still shared a bed at her cottage on Dr. Danbury’s property? People in town knew that Fiona had