“Things aren’t going much at all with him anymore.” She sighed. “He’s a nice guy—areallynice guy—but…well, it’s a long story. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it. The next time you come visit me in New York…?” she said suggestively. “You could write it off—I’ve got some iron scrollwork that needs to be done for my new brownstone. You’ve been putting me off for months now,Dec.”
“That would be great.” Maybe he’d even do that sooner rather than later—get out of town for a while and clear his head. Of course, now that he had Stephanie…he couldn’t just up andgo.
Damn.
“Any time between now and January—that’s when I start my next book. So, what were you calling about? What’s up?” Teddyasked.
“Besides wanting to catch up with my favorite cousin,” he said, smiling and imagining Teddy rolling her eyes, “I wanted to ask you about Jeremy Fischer. Do you know him? Have you methim?”
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “I’ve met Jeremy Fischer a number of times. We happen to have the same agent, as a matter offact.”
“Oh, great, because…he’s here in Wicks Hollow. And I just wanted to get any dirt—uh, I mean—any information on him you might have. He’s—uh—getting kind of friendly with one of the local women here, and, well…I wouldn’t want her to get hurt oranything.”
Lie, lie, lie…and maybe it didn’t matter anymore, now that he and Leslie were…whatever they were. But there was something about the Fischer guy that’d bothered him when they met at Orbra’s the other day. Something about him didn’t sit right. Something wasoff.
“You said Jeremy Fischer. You’re saying theauthorJeremy Fischer is in WicksHollow?”
“Yes, that’s right. He’s staying at an inn, supposedly working on his new project, but he’s not really telling anyone it’shim—”
“That’s because it’snothim.”
Declan sat up straight. “What do you mean? How do you know? Was he at the book fair withyou?”
“No, no, Jeremy Fischer is utterly reclusive and never goes to anything like that. Never even does book tours—smart decision, I have to say. That’s because it’s a closely guarded secret that Jeremy Fischer—the author of the Bruno Tablenture books—is a little old lady of about sixty years old. Never held a gun in herlife.”
Eighteen
IhopeI’m doing the right thing, Declan thought as he once more drove up the driveway to Shenstone House,uninvited.
Of course he was doing the rightthing.
Even if he and Leslie were…whatever they were—or weren’t—anymore, it was the right thing to do. The safest, smartest, most caring thing to do—and he’d be doing it for any person heknew.
Especially since someone had just had their head bashed in less than a mile away from Leslie’shouse.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly and took slow, deep breaths. There was no reason to think that John Fischer—if that was even his real name—intended Leslie anyharm.
What reason would he have to hurther?
What reason would he have to lie about who hewas?
Declan looked at his phone. He really should call Joe Cap and tell him what was going on. Just incase.
Instead of barreling up the driveway and showing up, with figurative guns blasting like a hero, maybe he should at least let the cops know. After all, they were in the middle of a murderinvestigation.
He stopped the car halfway up the drive, out of sight from the house, and called Joe Cap’s personal cell phone number, which he had because they’d become fishing buddies out on Wicks Lake last summer, with Ethan andBax.
“It’s Declan—I know you’re busy. But I think you should knowsomething.”
“You talked to Baxter,then?”
“Yes, I just left his house. He told me everything. Listen,” he said, “I just found out that the man who everyone thinks is JeremyFischer—”
“The big celebrityauthor?”
“Yeah, him. Well, I just found out from my cousin, who knows Jeremy Fischer, that the man who is here in town calling himself John Fischer and pretending to be the authorisn’tJeremy Fischer. I thought under the circumstances, with a murder investigation, you’d want toknow.”
“Are you certain about this?” Declan could tell he had the police chief’s full attentionnow.
