Page 21 of Murder on Charity Lane

“Nicholas…”

He nuzzled her neck. “They happened to ask if I knew any young unproduced playwrights, and after racking my brain—”

“I’ll rack your brain,” she said, grabbing his head and shaking it in her hands.

When they finished kissing, she led him back toward the house on a flagstone path that curved past a bungalow-type building with olive trees in terra-cotta planters.

“Must be Frank’s music studio,” Sophie said, peering closer. “What a life. He says he got lucky.”

“Huh. Usually rich people ascribe one hundred percent of their success to hard work and brilliance.”

“Frank’s different. I like him.” She fell silent as they neared the main house. “He reminds me of Mrs. B a little. He’s so comfortable in his own skin.”

Nicholas heard a car door slam in the front driveway, then caught sight of the catering van being packed up, along with a few cars leaving. “Oh. People are heading home already.”

Sophie’s hand tightened in his. “C’mon, we need to say goodbye.”

They followed the path around the side of the house. Across the drive, Angela stood with one hand on her open car door while saying goodbye to Pax.

“Did you notice she’s dressed exactly like that Jane lady?” Nicholas said.

“She knows how to flatter her mentor. Who’s that with her?”

“Pecs. You’ll never guess why.”

“His name is not Pecs!”

“Well, Pax. He’s their massage therapist.”

“Huh.” Sophie peered closer. “That explains Jane’s ‘new age music’ comment.”

“Yeah.”

“We should go thank CJ,” she said, leading him around the front of the house. “And Frank, too. He gave me some great advice.”

“Not to mention that wine.” He squeezed her hand. “You did really well, Soph.”

“All I did was lurk.”

“You were you. That’s all anyone needs.”

She pulled Nicholas closer. “It’s possible I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Huh. Weird. There’s an off chance that I love you back. Now we—”

A scream sounded from inside the house.

13

SOPHIE

I grabbed Nicholas’s arm, my pulse roaring in my ears. I recognized that scream. Not the voice, but the shock of terror. I was all too familiar with fear: from my stalker, from finding a corpse outside my window, from seeing a masked man attack Lily-Ann.

Blurred shapes moved inside the windows of the house. My hand tightened on Nicholas as I heard a man’s voice rising and falling. A woman shouted for an ambulance, and my vision started to darken at the edges.

“Soph,” Nicholas said. “Sophie.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”