The Perfectly Proper Paranormal Museum (A Perfectly Proper Paranormal Museum Mystery) Read Online Free Page B

and lured her there. If I wanted to lure her there, I wouldn’t have had to give her a key! But they think I have a motive. Let’s face it. They’re right.”
    “But you were with us from seven o’clock on,” I said. “Christy was still warm to the touch when I tried to take her pulse. She couldn’t have been dead long.” My gorge rose at the memory. I crossed my arms over my chest. “When was the last time you were in the tea room?”
    “I met with Dieter around three o’clock, and then I left. He usually works until five. Christy must have let herself in after that.”
    Unless the contractor was the killer. Last night’s shock had been replaced by a sick, creeping feeling. I told myself that Christy’s murder had nothing to do with us. Adele and I were incidental to the crime. But my gut didn’t believe it.
    I cleared my throat. “All right. You were with Dieter at three. Where were you between three and seven, when you met us?”
    “I had a manicure at four. And then I went home and took a nap and had a light dinner before we went out.”
    “Why do you always eat before we go out?” Harper asked.
    “You know I dislike eating in public. What if someone sees me with half-chewed spinach between my teeth?”
    “Forget the food,” I said. “Was anyone with you at home?”
    “I was alone with Pug.” Adele picked him up and rubbed her face against his fur. He panted, tongue lolling, depositing fawn-colored hairs across her black sweater.
    “So we need to hope she was killed when you were with us at the microbrewery,” Harper said. “Then you’ll be off the hook. I wonder how long it takes a body to cool?”
    We scrambled for our phones and began tapping for answers.
    “Okay.” I felt I’d won a prize for finding the information first. “A body normally loses 1.5 degrees of heat every hour, until it reaches the room’s temperature. But that varies by how the corpse is dressed, what it was lying on, etc. Half of Christy was on bare concrete, the rest on linoleum, and it was pretty cold inside.”
    “She was dressed lightly,” Adele said, “in a blazer and slacks, like she’d come from work.”
    “So we have no idea when she was killed—it could have been right before we arrived, or earlier.” I dropped my phone on the couch cushion.
    “This is not making me feel better,” Adele said.
    My phone buzzed. The number was my mother’s, and I rubbed my lower lip. I come from a family of overachievers, and my mother was losing patience with my extended unemployment. I was losing patience with my extended unemployment too. I sent the call to voicemail.
    Harper checked her watch. “Client appointment. Gotta go.” She picked up her briefcase and rose. “Adele, if there’s anything you need …”
    Adele waved her hand. “I know. Thanks, Harper.”
    I stood as well.
    “Mad,” Adele said, “I hear they’re going to let the Paranormal Museum open tomorrow. Seriously, can you manage it?”
    “I’ve never run a museum before.”
    “It’s easy. It’s not as if the exhibits do anything. All you have to do is take money and hand out tickets. You can keep the profits. It’d be like you owned the place.” She clawed a hand through her silky black hair. “I know you’re not totally sold on the museum, but I don’t have anyone else.” She lowered her voice. “And I’ve got a bad feeling I’m not going to be around to help.”
    I waffled. “Adele, you’ve talked to a lawyer, haven’t you?”
    “Of course. Only an idiot would be interviewed by the police without one.”
    I gave her a fixed smile, lips clamped together. I’d had no lawyer for last night’s interrogation.
    “So you’ll do it?” she asked.
    “Until you can find someone to buy the museum.” Helping out at the museum might not be such a bad idea. I needed to do something.
    She exhaled. “Good. Thanks.” She handed me a key from her purse. “On Saturdays, it opens at ten.” Her phone rang, and she grabbed it off the