Liam continued, “I found evidence of blunt force trauma. It might be nothing or the?—”
“Or the cause of death,” Natalie suggested.
“I’ll tell you what it is. Proof,” Lionel declared, as he thrust a single finger in the air in a Eureka! moment.
“Proof of what?” Natalie asked.
“Proof that I was indeed murdered.”
Chapter Thirteen
Just as Natalie was hoping an end to this conversation, and this very long day, would be imminent, Liam had walked in with his bombshell of an announcement.
Right on his heels, was Gabe.
The meeting room was getting mighty crowded. Worse, it seemed that having an audience only fueled Lionel’s already overly dramatic nature.
“I knew it. I did not expire from natural causes. Someone snuffed out my brilliance and against all odds the neanderthal has uncovered the proof.”
“Humph. I see you don’t yell at him when he insults Liam. Just me,” Gabe said with a scowl.
Natalie sighed. Ignoring Gabe, she said, “Lionel, why in the world would you assume you were murdered?”
Granted, she might have pictured his untimely death a time or two since meeting him, but that was just a fantasy. A daydream to brighten her day.
“We’ve been over this, Miss Chase. I was in excellent health at the time of my death. Given that, how else would you explain such a sudden death aside from someone wanting me dead?” Lionel asked with a sweeping gesture to include everyone in the room even though only Natalie and Gabe could hear him.
In response to Natalie’s prior mention of murder, Liam shook his head. “A contusion does not prove or even indicate murder as a probability. Graves could have easily fallen backward and struck his head while suffering a coronary.”
“Actually, falls are a common reason for death among the elderly, especially those on medication. Dizzy spell. Fall. Ahhh. Crack. Brain bleed. Dead. It’s on my reference list,” Harper informed them while acting a deadly fall in a weird kind of charades-like pantomime.
“I’m afraid to ask but your reference list of what?” Natalie braced herself. She never knew what was going to come out of Harper’s mouth.
“Various causes of death,” Harper answered matter-of-factly.
“And why do you have a list of various causes of death?” Natalie asked in what she felt was an obvious follow-up question.
“For when I kill characters off in my books. Can’t keep repeating the same way.”
Lionel frowned. “What…Kill… I thought she wrote romance.”
“I’d actually like to see that list,” Gabe said.
Liam lifted his chin in Harper’s direction. “Harper’s right. Forensic medicine isn’t my specialty, but the head injury could be from any number of things?—”
“Yes, such as someone bludgeoning me to death,” Lionel interjected.
“I’d like to bludgeon him,” Gabe grumbled.
Since Liam heard neither, he continued, “but still, I do think we should call the sheriff’s department.”
Natalie groaned. She and the local law had a complicated past—as in she seemed to have the inability to not embarrass herself in front of them. “Do we really have to? You said yourself it’s probably nothing.”
Liam tipped his head and stared at Natalie. “Nat. It’s the right thing to do. Just in case.”
“Can we at least wait until tomorrow. It’s getting late. And I’m so tired and hungry. If we call now you know they’ll be here forever. We can call in the morning. It’s not like a few more hours will matter. It’s not like he’s ‘fresh’.”
“Fresh? Good God, woman. Have some decorum. This is my body we’re talking about.”
