His eyes widened in terror. He struggled to sit up. “Click told me…a joke with Mr. Gilbert…that night I followed Mr. Gilbert…he was in a highwayman costume with a mask. I saw him go into the woods…the next day when they found the costume in the lake I thought he had to be the one who shot Mr. Wagner. I didn’t think anyone would believe me. I set a trap…”
“He’s in jail, honey. But when no one was sure who shot you, the police chief put out the word you’d died and he sent an officer to sit outside the door,” she nodded her head, “to protect you. He kept you safe. And when you get well,” her voice was stern, “you are going down to that police station and thank everyone there and you are going to do cleanup and whatever work you can do to help.”
“The police chief sent somebody to see over me?”
“He did. He’s a fine man, Chief Cameron. I told him you’d be coming.”
“Maybe,” there was an eager gleam in Darren’s eyes, “he’ll let me watch them work. I’d like to be a policeman. I can figure things out.”
EMMA CLYDE EXUDED self-satisfaction. “The solution came from the Rectangle of Interest. As I told everyone.” Her supercilious gaze swept around the coffee area at Death on Demand. It was after hours.
Annie loved her bookstore when the aisles teemed with readers. She also loved the store when the front shutters were closed and old and dear friends gathered.
Emma was a picture of summer comfort in a seersucker caftan that improbably featured bat-size red butterflies against a white background. Laurel’s lime-green linen dress and matching headband emphasized the camellia perfection of her skin and the silver gold of her hair. Henny was bright in a raspberry T-shirt and slacks.
Emma, as always, assumed that she was the central figure. She nodded emphatically. “Tim Talbot’s knowledge meant the murderer’s apprehension was assured.”
“Not quite.” Annie intended to sound crisp. Instead, her voice was wobbly. “Tim saved our lives. If he hadn’t dug around in that old site and found grapeshot, Larry would have killed us.”
Max’s tone was admiring. “He found a perfect weapon. They’re made of iron and about the size of a golf ball. He zinged Larry’s arm, knocking the knife out of his hand, then got him in the back of the head.” Max’s grin was huge. “It turns out Tim was a super Little League pitcher.”
Henny commented mildly, “Sometimes it seems so much a matter of one card falling and then another. Once Larry realized Tim must have seen him when he darted into the woods, Larry had to try and find him. When Rosalind Parker called the directors to say someone had broken into the Haven kitchen, Larry started searching in the vicinity of the Haven. Larry considered himself something of an authority on island history. He knew all about a fort there.”
Laurel spoke proudly, “If Max hadn’t kept trying to help Jean, he and Billy wouldn’t have been there to hear Annie’s shout.”
Max was grim. “I had all the pieces and I didn’t fit them together. Larry said he tried to sell a rare stamp he’d bought at a discount from Booth, and the stamp was a fake. Larry figured if he could get access to Booth’s computer he could switch funds to his account and later claim that Booth had agreed to give him the money in exchange for his vote against Jean. Everything depended upon Click. Larry spun Click some kind of tale about putting a joke program into Booth’s computer. What Larry needed were passwords. Click thought he was part of a joke that would be explained at the program Friday night. Instead, Larry got the information he needed, met Click at the nature preserve, and killed him. Larry pulled out Click’s pockets to get back the money he’d paid. When Booth was playing golf Friday morning, Larry slipped into his study. He switched the funds. That’s why Booth had to die that night. When he ran into Booth at the Haven that night, Larry clapped him on the back and placed the tape on the back of his shirt. He would have gotten away with everything if it weren’t,” and his voice was proud, “for Annie.”
Emma looked dour.
Annie felt a moment’s compunction. Fair was fair. “If I hadn’t gone to look at Emma’s Rectangle of Interest, I wouldn’t have realized what Tim probably saw. As Emma said, Tim made all the difference.”
“A celebration is in order.” Henny opened a special cabinet. She worked swiftly, bourbon and Coke for Emma, sherry for Laurel, gin and tonics for herself and Annie, a Dos Equis for Max.
Henny served the drinks to murmured thank-yous. She lifted her glass. “A toast to our dear brave Annie, to persevering Max, to prescient Emma—”
Emma’s nod was regal.
“—to perceptive Laurel and to moi—”
As they raised their glasses, Henny cleared her throat and nodded toward the watercolors: “—The island’s champion mystery reader.” Her glance at Emma was triumphant. She pointed at the paintings in order. “Her Royal Spyness by Rhys Bowen, Southern Fried by Cathy Pickens, The Witch Doctor’s Wife by Tamar Myers, A Vicky Hill Exclusive! by Hannah Dennison, and All the Wrong Moves by Merline Lovelace.”
About the Author
An accomplished master of mystery, CAROLYN HART is the author of nineteen Death on Demand novels. Her books have won multiple Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity Awards. She is also the creator of the Henrie O series, featuring a retired reporter, and the Bailey Ruth series, starring an impetuous, redheaded ghost. One of the founders of Sisters in Crime, Hart lives in Oklahoma City.
www.carolynhart.com
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Also by Carolyn Hart
Death on Demand
Death on Demand
Design for Murder
Something Wicked
Honeymoon with Murder
A Little Class on Murder
Deadly Valentine
The Christie Caper
Southern Ghost
Mint Julep Murder
Yankee Doodle Dead
White Elephant Dead
Sugarplum Dead
April Fool Dead
Engaged to Die
Murder Walks the Plank
Death of the Party
Dead Days of Summer
Death Walked In
Dare to Die
Henrie O
Scandal in Fair Haven
Death in Lovers’ Lane
Death in Paradise
Death on the River Walk
Resort to Murder
Set Sail for Murder
Bailey Ruth
Ghost at Work
Merry, Merry Ghost
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LAUGHED ’TIL HE DIED. Copyright © 2010 by Carolyn Hart. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
EPub Edition © February 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-198779-3
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