I caught myself rubbing said shoulder. “I’m fine. A little ice and some ibuprofen and I’ll be good as new tomorrow.” Unlikely, but hope sprung eternal. What I did not want was to waste hours of my time in the ER.
“Look,” she chirped, coming to a standstill in the middle of the lobby, much to the annoyance of a tiny woman in a giant red muumuu. “There’s Jason. Looks like he’s going into one of the sessions.”
“That’s odd,” I said. “He’s not a writer.”
“But he took care of Natasha’s marketing and whatnot for years. He knows his stuff,” Cheryl reminded me. “Maybe with her gone, he’s thinking of taking on other clients.”
Especially now that Natasha wasn’t around to badmouth him.
Cheryl had a point. But still, the whole thing was odd in my book. Jason being here at the conference, I mean. And bringing Piper with him. Without Natasha, neither of them had jobs in the industry. Natasha had blackballed them both. Another motive for murder. Piper and Jason were looking increasingly guilty in my book.
“Let’s follow him,” I said, taking off at a trot toward the rapidly closing conference room door.
“You can’t question him in there,” Cheryl hissed as we slipped inside.
“No,” I agreed, “but we can watch him like hawks. If he’s guilty, I’m not letting him get away with it.”
Cheryl shook her head in exasperation, but followed me into the row immediately behind Jason. I tried to look interested in what the speaker had to say, but the long-winded lecture on marketing trends was so boring I could barely keep my eyes open. To keep myself occupied, and from staring at Jason the entire time, I pulled out my conference notebook and began jotting down thoughts. Reasons why Jason was guilty, naturally.
Reason 1: Natasha was divorcing him.
Granted, he’d been a big, fat cheater-pants, but some men had a hard time with semantics. Maybe Jason Winters was one of those...his bruised ego leading him to commit murder.
Reason 2: Because of the pending divorce, Jason had lost not only his wife, but his job and his lifestyle, too.
That was definitely reason for murder. People had killed for less. A lot less. Especially since I knew very well that Natasha made seven figures and Jason was now on unemployment.
Reason 3: Natasha had blackballed both Jason and Piper, which meant neither of them could get a job in the industry. And while Jason had a “real” job once upon a time, Piper had only ever worked with Natasha. She had zero experience with anything else. Not exactly hiring material.
Yep. Big time motive right there.
Reason 4: Jason might inherit a fortune. Or better yet, the rights to Natasha’s books, which would net him a future fortune many times over.
That one was iffy, of course. It all rested on Jason being the one to actually inherit. Something I still needed to check on.
Reason 5: Natasha was a witch with a capital B.
Granted, that gave, like, seven billion people motive to murder her, but I liked to be thorough.
Oh, and Reason 6: Jason and Natasha had a massive argument right before Natasha was killed. Granted, it probably wasn’t their first argument, but it had definitely been their last. That had to mean something. And while Piper wasn’t there for the argument, that didn’t necessarily clear her. She could have been an accomplice either before or after the fact.
The marketing lecture was winding down, and people were already gathering their things. Jason got up and slipped out while the speaker was still summing up his points.
“Come on.” I grabbed Cheryl’s arm. “We’ve got to follow him.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes, but she came along. That was a best friend for you. She might think you were on the road to crazy, but she would go straight there with you.
Chapter 11
A Motive for Murder
WE FOLLOWED JASON OUT of the lecture hall and into the main lobby, now swamped with the early dinner crowd. Still, we had no trouble spotting Jason’s stocky figure wending his way through the crowd, since most of the crowd was white haired and moving at a more relaxed pace than our quarry. The Fairwinds Resort was popular with retirees apparently. Wouldn’t have been my first choice, but each to his or her own, I supposed.
As Jason passed a group of NWA attendees, he was stopped to talk with one of the men. While they chatted, Cheryl and I busied ourselves outside one of the meeting room doors, pretending we were waiting for the lecture inside to let out. A familiar-looking blond woman passed by my line of sight. It struck a chord, and I paused for a moment. It couldn’t be.
“Keep your eye on Jason,” I hissed.
“Why?” Cheryl hissed back. “What are you—”
But I didn’t let her finish. Instead I took off after the blond woman. She wasn’t moving very fast, so I caught up with her quickly.
“Natasha?” It was insane of course. I knew she was dead. I’d found the body myself, but the woman in front of me looked so much like the dead diva, my heart literally pounded wildly in my chest.
The blonde didn’t turn around. “Natasha?” I tapped her on the shoulder, and she spun to face me.
It wasn’t Natasha. This woman was in her early twenties, her face unmarred by plastic surgery. Pretty, but unremarkable. Other than being the right shape and coloring, she looked nothing like Natasha. She was also wearing a smock with the logo of the resort spa stitched over her left breast. She was clearly a resort employee.
“May I help you?” She gave me a bland smile.
“Uh, no. Sorry. Thought you were someone else.”
She gave a shrug. “It happens. Have a nice evening.” And with that she twirled around gracefully and continued on her merry way. With a sigh, I made my way back to Cheryl, quickly catching her up on the not-Natasha sighting.
Jason finished his conversation and continued across the lobby. His pace picked up once he exited the
