Book Club Killer

Book Club Killer

Mary Maxwell

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and
any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
or locales is entirely coincidental.

© 2015 Mary Maxwell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means
electronic, mechanical, recorded or otherwise, without the prior permission of
the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Chapter 1

“Have you ever thought about
killing anyone?” Sonja asked with a chilling smile. “I mean, if you could actually
get away with it?”

The inquiry was so startling that I
nearly dropped the dozen eggs in my hand. I’d stopped by Wegman’s for a few
last-minute items. I was hosting the monthly book club for the first time the
next afternoon. I was the newest member of the group, and wanted to pull out
all the stops to impress the other women. Since my Triple Chocolate Almond Treasures
had won top honors at our county cooking contest three years in a row, I
decided they’d be a smart choice. But as I gazed at my friend’s mischievous blue
eyes, making gooey bonbons was suddenly the last thing on my mind.

“Have you?” she said again. “Not in
a real bloody way or anything.”

I’d only known Sonja for a couple
of months. We met when I joined The Baker Street Book Babes. I wasn’t wild
about the name of the club, but I loved reading and it was fun getting together
with the other women once a month.

“Maybe just a spoonful of cyanide
in their tea,” added Sonja. “Or a tiny push down a big flight of stairs.”

I carefully put the carton of eggs
in my shopping cart. “This is a joke, right?”

“That depends.” One corner of her
mouth lifted to form a wicked smile. “If the person I have in mind behaves
herself, maybe I’ll skip the idea altogether.”

“There’s nothing funny about
murder, Sonja.”

She adjusted the purse strap on her
shoulder. “Just play along, Jana. Like it’s a childhood game or something.”

I fixed my eyes on her innocent
smile.
Was she serious? Did she have real-life skeletons in her closet? And
was the glint in her eye due to homicidal tendencies instead of everyday
happiness?

“Well?” she demanded impatiently.
“It’s a simple question. Have you ever thought about—”

“Who did you have in mind?” I
interrupted, not wanting to hear her utter the last part of her question again.

Sonja heaved a feathery sigh.
“Rosemary Swanson,” she said as her eyes narrowed into a malicious scowl. “I
don’t think she fits into our book club.”

“What on earth did she ever do to
you? I mean, how did she make you so angry that you’d want to kill her?”

A frothy laugh was Sonja’s reply.
“Oh, lighten up a little, Jana! I’m just kidding; you know I’d never hurt a
fly.”

I forced the frown on my face into
a smile. “Well, how was I supposed to know? You seemed so…” I thought about the
most appropriate way to describe the blood-curdling expression that had
accompanied Sonja’s baffling remark. “Well, you seemed pretty believable,” I
continued. “As if you could actually imagine killing Rosemary.”

Sonja pushed her voluminous blonde
bangs from her eyes. “I
could
imagine it,” she said. “But I’d never
dream of actually doing something so horrible!”

“Then why did you mention it?”

“Because of the book she picked for
this month’s club meeting.”

“
The Female Man
?”

“Yes!” Sonja blurted. “Who on earth
wants to read some complicated science fiction thing?”

“I think she’s trying to challenge
us by introducing new authors and genres,” I offered, hoping to diffuse the
angry glare in Sonja’s eyes. “It’s easy to get stuck in a rut if you read the
same kind of book every month”

“Well, that’s a load of horse
poop!” she hissed. “What’s wrong with a juicy murder mystery? Or maybe
Charlotte’s
Web
? I joined the book club for relaxation and camaraderie with other
women, not to be tortured with obscure fantasy novels.”

I agreed with Sonja, but didn’t
really mind being introduced to unfamiliar books and authors. This was my second
month in the group, so I’d already trudged through both of Rosemary’s
suggestions—a Russian novelist’s debut work written in haiku and the feminist
science fiction novel written by Joanna Russ. I wasn’t going to rush out and
read anything else by those two authors, but I’d enjoyed being exposed to
something new.

“Maybe your suggestion will be
selected for our next book,” I offered, trying to nudge the conversation in a
more upbeat direction.

“I doubt it,” Sonja said. “I
somehow think she’s blackmailing everyone else into voting for the book she
wants us to read. I swear that if anyone deserves a knife in their back, it’s
Rosemary Swanson.”

I smiled and waited for her gloomy rant
to end, but her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. She reached for the droning
device, glanced at the screen and rolled her eyes.

“It’s Rosemary,” she muttered.
“Probably calling to gloat about her oldest son’s newest academic achievement.”

“Go ahead,” I said, hoping that
would be my chance to continue shopping. “Please tell her hi for me.”

Sonja shook her head and silenced
the phone with one tap to the screen. “I saw her this morning at the drug
store. She can just leave a message and I’ll call her back later.”

“Okay, sure.” I glanced at my
watch. “Oh, wow! It’s almost five-thirty, and I still have a couple of stops
after this. I should get going so I can get dinner on the table by seven.”

With a forlorn nod of her head,
Sonja gave me a little hug. “Brian’s in Miami this week,” she said. “I’ll
probably go buy another frozen Weight Watchers for tonight.”

As she drifted away toward the
frozen food aisles, I called out and invited her to join us for dinner. My
husband and our two sons were always up for spur-of-the-moment guests, but
Sonja declined.

“That’s okay,” she said with a
shrug. “I’ve been craving a spicy chicken slider all day. It’s five points, but
I feel like splurging.”

Like many of my friends, Sonja was
on a permanent diet roller coaster. She’d pledge her loyalty to one new fad
program for a month or two, lose a few pounds and then yoyo back above her
starting weight with an uncontrollable binge with my two best friends, Ben and
Jerry.

“Oh, well,” she muttered. “I’ll see
you tomorrow at book club.”

“Have a nice night!” I called after
her.

She replied with a halfhearted wave
and a cheerless shrug.

Chapter 2

After Sonja disappeared around the
corner in search of her all-white-meat patty on a soft mini-bun, I checked my
shopping list. I’d scribbled it so quickly right before leaving work that I
could only make out the first few entries:
Eggs. Bittersweet chocolate.
Heavy cream. Napkins. Paper plates.
The last item was either
Ground Beef
or
Greasy Beets
. I groaned, made a mental note to write more slowly next
time and headed for the Express Checkout at the front of the store. I knew my
preparations for the book club meeting didn’t involve ground beef
or
greasy beets, so I figured that I had everything I needed.

As I reached the cash registers, I
heard a voice from over my shoulder.

“Jana?”

I turned to find Eve Walker
grinning at me with her flawlessly bleached teeth, perky blue eyes and
shoulder-length blonde hair. Eve was the book club’s most alluring member. She
was gorgeous. Her husband was a multimillionaire. And her three children were
always well-mannered, tidy and considerate. On days when my two boys were
unruly or the household budget didn’t stretch as far as it needed, I was more
than a little jealous of Eve’s good fortune. Luckily, those moments of envy
were few and far between.

“Hey, there!” I said brightly. “I
just saw Sonja. If the other three girls were here, we could do book club in
the bakery section!”

Eve raised one eyebrow. “Not me,”
she said. “I’m on a carb-free diet. And it’s absolutely slicing the weight
right off!”

I took a quick glance, but she
looked exactly the same to me. “Well, it’s really working,” I told her anyway.
“You look
amazing
!”

“I know,” she said, lifting her
chin slightly. “I’m the same weight I was when I was sixteen.”

I kept the smile plastered on my
face, quickly calculating how much heavier I was than twenty years before.

“But enough about me,” Eve said. “How
are you?”

“I’m great, thanks. What about you?
Besides the fabulous weight loss?”

Her grin widened. “I’m doing
so
well,” she gushed. “Trevor just got another promotion at work. Josh made
varsity basketball. And little Brady pooped in the big potty this morning for
the first time
ever
!”

My stomach jiggled slightly at the
last entry on her list. “That’s fantastic!” I offered. “Three more gold star
days for the Walkers!”

“I know, right?” Eve shrugged. “I
stopped here for a sec to get Brady something special to celebrate his big
achievement.”

I glanced at the basket dangling
from her arm: baking soda, vinegar, a stainless steel bowl and two rolls of
extra thirsty paper towels. When she noticed the baffled look on my face, Eve
reached out and patted my arm.

“Brady just loves making vinegar
volcanoes,” she said. “But the last one left a permanent stain on the new
carpeting in the billiard room, so I’m buying extra rolls of towels just in
case.”

Brady was nearly three. And, although
that seemed a little young for such a science experiment to me, Eve and her
husband believed in giving their sons whatever they wanted. Of course, they
could afford to satisfy any whim their two perfect boys could ever desire.

“Doesn’t that sound like fun?” I
said. “Especially if you’ve got extra paper towels handy!”

Eve smiled again with her dazzling
choppers. “Well, I hate to be rude,” she said. “But we’re taking Josh to Café
Metro to celebrate his big news!”

“Wow! That’s a fancy way to
celebrate. Have a wonderful evening.”

“Oh, we always do,” Eve said. “I’ll
see you at book club tomorrow afternoon.”

“Definitely,” I told her. “I’m a
little nervous since this is my first time hosting, but I hope it’ll be a good
meeting for everyone.”

Eve rolled her eyes. “Don’t you
worry,” she said. “I know that everyone thinks my first time as host couldn’t
be surpassed, but you can always try!”

I wasn’t a member when Eve welcomed
the group into her posh mansion for book club, but I’d heard about the event
often enough that I knew it involved waiters in tuxedos, a four-course dinner
and a chamber orchestra playing compositions inspired by that month’s book.

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” I
said as the line for six items or less inched forward.

“See you tomorrow,” Eve offered
before she aimed her shopping cart at the next aisle.

After finishing at Wegman’s and
stopping to buy KFC for dinner, I headed home. My husband was in the kitchen
when I pushed through the door.

“Hey there, beautiful!” Ben gave me
a quick kiss. “How was your day?”

“It was really good, sweetie. How
about yours?”

“Busy,” he answered. “It was one of
those ‘good news, bad news’ kind of Fridays.”

I put the shopping bags on the
counter. “I know that tone,” I said. “What’s the bad news?”

“Don’t you want to hear the good
news first?”

I smiled and shrugged off my coat.
“Of course! What is it?”

“I want to show you this first,” Ben
told me, pulling a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. “I got it so we
could celebrate!”

“Wow! Then it must be
really
good news!”

He smiled proudly. “It is,” he
said. “We signed a letter of agreement to acquire a new company today.”

“Another manufacturer?”

Ben nodded. “They make a really
great line of flooring products.”

“Congratulations, honey!” I
gestured at the champagne. “Let’s open that bad boy and raise a glass to your
success!”

“There’s more news,” he said.
“Guess who’s leading the transition team?”

The answer was on his face: a proud
grin and wiggling eyebrows.

“Oh, that’s
amazing
!” I
said. “I know you’ve been working really hard for that to happen.”

He carefully uncorked the bubbly
and filled two crystal flutes.

“Here you go, love.” He handed one
to me and raised the other for a toast. “I couldn’t have done it without your
patience and support.”

When his smile drooped a little, I
knew there was a catch to the celebratory announcement.

“So?” I said after sampling the
chilled champagne. “What’s the bad news?”

“My boss suggested that I invite
Mr. Truscott to dinner here tomorrow night,” my husband announced. “He’s the
owner of the company we’re buying, and I guess he sort of hinted that he wanted
to get to know our transition team this weekend rather than wait for Monday.”

“Tomorrow night?” I felt a slab of
anxiety pushing against my chest. “But I have book club tomorrow afternoon. How
can I possibly do that
and
fix a nice dinner for your group?”

“I’ve already got that covered,”
Ben said confidently. “I’m having dinner catered by the new restaurant down on Olive
Street.”

“Really?” I sighed with relief.

Ben nodded. “You bet, sweetheart. I
know how hard you’re working to put on a big spread for your book club. I
figured you’d like the thought of someone else cooking for my office dinner.”

“You are too good to me,” I said,
looping my arms around my husband’s neck. “I’m the luckiest girl in the whole
world.”

“There’s more,” he said. “I also
asked the restaurant to send two of their best servers and one bartender to
handle everything. They’ll do it all—fix the drinks, prepare the food, serve
our guests, clean up the kitchen. You won’t even have to lift a finger!”

I pressed my lips to his for a
lingering kiss. “Now,
that’s
what I call the best possible news!” I
exclaimed cheerfully. “You should’ve started with that little tidbit, hon!”