In front of the Sociology shelf, a lump of clothing spread across the floor. A hand stuck out at an angle, clutching a bloodied Birkin bag. Two pale legs jutted out from the hem of a pink dress covered with a pattern of revolvers.
Not a pile of clothing. A body. A body wearing a very familiar Marcus Ribald dress.
Ashley lay face down on the brown shop carpet. A knife stuck out of her back, a trickle of blood dribbling across her bright-pink dress and across the rug.
Someone… someone stabbed Ashley.
Chapter Ten
Bile rose in my throat. “Ashley?”
This is some kind of joke. Any second now she’s going to leap up and yank the prop knife out of her back and tell me I’m a silly bitch for falling for her practical joke. And then we’ll hug and be friends again.
Ashley didn’t move. Morrie stepped over her, bending down to examine the knife. He pressed two fingers to her throat, and shook his head.
Heathcliff gathered me in his arms, his smoky, peaty scent invading my nostrils. “She’s gone,” he whispered.
No no no no.
It can’t be true. Ashley can’t be dead.
“I’ll call the brass.” Morrie slid his phone out of his pocket.
“I’ll finish the tea,” Quoth said, slipping back upstairs.
Heathcliff shuffled me back onto the landing, placing himself between me and Ashley’s body. “I just saw her today,” I whispered into his stiff coat. Warmth radiated from his arms through my whole body, but it couldn’t dislodge the ice stabbing into my heart. The scent of old leather and rich ink wafted from his clothes, mingling with his spicy, peaty scent – the comforting smell of books baked into his essence.
Ashley’s dead.
Not just dead.Murdered.That knife didn’t get there by accident. While I was upstairs spilling my guts to Heathcliff and Morrie and Quoth, she was down here getting stabbed.
But who would want Ashley dead? And why? And why would they do ithere?
Morrie slid his phone back into his pocket. “The police are on their way. We don’t have much time. Mina, we have to—”
“Don’task her,” Heathcliff warned him. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Sorry, mate. It’s so much neater if we get Mina to agree.” Morrie tugged on the hem of his waistcoat.
“Agree to what? My best friend isdead.” Panic crept across my chest.
“Ex-best friend,” Morrie reminded me. “Mina, we have to talk to you about something, and it can’t wait. The police are going to ask you about finding the body. You can’t tell them Quoth was down here first.”
“Huh?” His words took too long to penetrate the fog in my mind. “Why not?”
“Because… because Quoth isn’t supposed to be here. The person who discovers the body is always a suspect. If the police know he found the body, they will look too deep into his background, and they’ll take him away to a very bad situation.”
“You mean jail. Is Quoth a criminal?”I bet he’s a creepy stalker,I thought but didn’t say.
“No, I do not mean jail,” Morrie said. He reached up and stroked my hair. With Heathcliff’s huge arms around me and Morrie touching my face, my focus wavered, my mind slipping further from reality. “Quoth’s never so much as collected a speeding ticket, nevermind broken any useful law. This situation is complicated, and he won’t want to burden you with his story right after you’ve just had this shock. But if the police knew he was here at all, it would be bad for him, for all of us.”
“You want me to lie to the police to protect this guy?” A horrible thought occurred to me. “But he was downstairs alone at the same time as Ashley. Hecouldhave done this to her.”
“He wasn’t alone, and he didn’t do this,” Morrie said. “I know that for a fact.”
“As do I,” said Heathcliff.
“How, how?”
