Newest Release from Denise

Trembling, I stood in line for Denise's autograph. Meeting writers never made me nervous, but this was different. I was sweating, and not just from the summer heat. I didn't just want to meet this author: I wanted to be this author. How did she accomplish selling one million copies of her cozy mystery in less than a month? All the late-night talk show hosts fought to have her appear on their shows. CBS leaked that a movie deal was in the making. Anywhere you looked on social media, you found a post mentioning her book.

The person in front of me left. Denise fanned herself for a moment. "Sorry, I guess I was having a hot flash," she said. I stepped up to the table. My mouth went dry. I tried to say hello, but only a squeak escaped. Denise smiled, "Hello." She offered me her hand. I didn't trust my voice, so I returned her smile, shook her hand, and remained silent. Her face paled as I handed her my book, and within five seconds she dropped it and slumped on the table.

Her admirers throughout the room, including me, gasped. An obese woman with a booming voice asked, "What happened to Denise?" Three of us ran around the table to help; while the crowd pressed closer.

One tall woman with a slight build pushed through the crowd. "Let me through. I'm a doctor!"

She reached for Denise's wrist, held it for ten seconds, then dropped it, and pressed next to her throat with two fingers. Dr. Edwards looked up at me and said, "She's dead."

A guy leaned over me and asked, "You're joking, right? This is a prank? A publicity stunt?"

The doctor pulled out her cell phone. "I wish it were, but I'm afraid not." She turned her attention back to her cell phone. "Hello, this is Doctor Edwards. I am at the Bookworm Book Store on the corner of Fourth and Main. There's been an accident. A woman is dead." There was a brief pause as she listened. "Yes, I am sure she is deceased. Please send the police."

The crowd stared, some open-mouthed. A woman dressed in a business suit pointed at me and screamed, "She did it! Just like in the story." Stunned, I felt arms grabbing for me and somebody wrestled me to the ground. We all had the same thought.

"I didn't do it. Her book is wrong! If someone murdered her, it wasn't me."

The doctor who announced her death called over the three security guards to control the crowd. He helped me get to my feet. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome. Did you notice anything unusual right before she died?"

"I handed her my book to sign. Her face turned pale, her eyes rolled up in her head. She dropped the book as her head fell to the table."

"What did you mean when you said, 'her book was wrong'?"

"You haven't read it?"

"No."

"It starts out with an author on a book signing tour. She gets poisoned when a fan hands her a book laced with succinylcholine. Was Denise murdered?"

"I don't know."

The three-man security team wouldn't allow anyone to leave until the police arrived, which took less than fifteen minutes. They interviewed and released most of the fans who weren't close enough to give any details of the tragedy. The police focused their attention on those of us who were closest to the author, me in particular.

If I had to answer, 'Can you describe what happened?' one more time I would scream! Between each officer's questioning, I scanned the crowd. I could see that the woman who accused me, speaking to the police while her hands moved a mile a minute. I couldn't hear what she said, but she kept pointing at me. In contrast, the man who questioned if Denise's untimely death was a prank whispered. He stood less than five feet away and I caught snippets of "publicity stunt" in his conversation with the police.

Within the hour, the police finished their questioning, and the coroner removed the author's body. The police asked twelve of us to remain at the bookstore. They escorted us to a lounge area, where we were each brought a bottle of water and asked to wait. A tray of cheese and crackers sat on the low table between our chairs. We sat and looked at each other for several minutes.

The guy who expressed that Denise's death was a publicity stunt spoke first, "Denise is fine." That got our attention! "My name is Joseph Offerman. I am a producer for CBS and we are introducing a mystery reality series. We have chosen you all to take part. Anyone who does not want to appear on television may leave now." We looked around at each other, but for most of us our curiosity conquered any camera shyness. Only one person got up and walked out, leaving ten of us to solve the crime.

I asked, "How does this work? Do we know someone murdered her?"

"You witnessed her death and need to work together to solve the mystery." He handed each of us a manilla envelope, dropping the extra one on the table. "You each have a packet with background information of the person you are representing. Oh, please wear the included name tag. One of you is the murderer. If no one identifies you as the murderer, you will win $10,000. I suggest you keep your involvement secret. Whoever identifies the murderer will split the $10,000."

Interesting way the show split the prize money. They expect us to work together, but by having us split the prize, it will just about guarantee that players will sabotage one another. I read my packet while studying others' reaction out of the corner of my eye. "I would like to speak to the coroner and find out her cause of death," I said. Nine others echoed, "Me too."

Joseph called to someone waiting in the other room. "Bring in the body and medical examiner." Doctor Edwards wheeled in a stainless steel gurney with Denise's prone body.

"So, Doctor Edwards, is it?" The doctor nodded. "What was Denise's cause of death?"

"My initial exam concludes that her heart stopped."

A portly gentleman who reminded me of John Bosley on 'Charlie's Angels' asked, "Can you elaborate?"

"What would you like to know, Mike?"

"Did you perform a tox screen? Did you find any injection sights or abnormalities on her body?"

"Her blood work came back normal, except for elevated triglycerides and B-12 levels. Five minor bruises along her left arm suggest someone may have grabbed it earlier in the day. I noted a small red dot on her left shoulder and swollen legs."

Mary, the woman who accused me earlier said, "It's summer, we all have swollen legs. Could that small red dot be a needle puncture?"

"Most likely, but I cannot say for certain. I'm sorry, that is all the information I have to share." Dr. Edwards left with the gurney.

"What should we do next?"

Ruth, a short woman with gray-streaked hair answered, "I watch a ton of crime shows with my cats. They always reenact the crime scene. The shows, not the cats."

Three of us nodded. "Splendid idea," someone said.

Joseph brought us back to the scene of the crime, sans Denise's body. We all stood in our original spots.

Mary was the first to speak. "The only person who could have stabbed her with a needle is her assistant, Michelle."

"What? Me? Why would I kill my boss?"

"Because you were sleeping with her husband."

"No! I loved Denise! She was like a sister to me! Who said I was sleeping with her husband?"

"It is in the private investigator's report."

"Well, the private investigator is wrong! We are close friends. We grew up together and enjoy spending time together when Denise is busy writing. She knows and encourages us to go out and have fun. She gets more work done without her husband puttering around the house."

I wondered why Mary badgered Michelle so intensely. Michelle's explanation satisfied me. She loved both Denise and her husband. She didn't have a motive to kill the author, at least not jealousy. Michelle was near enough to inject Denise with something, but it bothered me. How could someone stab Denise on the upper arm and her not notice? If she allowed the injection, I guess it was for a Vitamin B shot. A recent injection would explain the elevated levels of B-12. In my opinion, the injection site was a red herring.

After reenacting the crime several times, everyone, except me, concluded that like in her book, I poisoned her with some chemical that did not turn up in a tox screen. However, I was leaning towards Mary because of her demeanor. Something was bothering me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"Joseph, we need a computer to search for the poison Sue used." Mary was accusing me again.

Mike added, "And we need her book tested for chemical residue," while the others agreed. There was no sense in claiming I was innocent because they wouldn't trust me. So I kept my mouth shut and continued to study the others. I had limited evidence, but my mind worked out a theory.

"Why we are waiting for the computer, why don't we compare the information in our envelopes? We were told to work as a team and I think there's an important clue we are all missing and will only find by working together."

"Suggested just as the guilty person would do to throw us off her trail," Mary said waggling her pointer finger at me. Others agreed with Mary, but one-by-one they shared background information about their character to kill time while we waited.

The interviews proved helpful for me to eliminate suspects. Everyone had a motive, and some had the opportunity; I was struggling with means. Where was the clue revealing how she was murdered?

My character was an overzealous fan to the point of being a stalker. Maybe that's why Denise turned pale when she saw me. Did I mention they found a needle in my purse? I am a drug addict too.

Michelle loved Denise's husband. She had the opportunity, being closest to the victim, but I believed her when she declared her innocence and explained her long-standing friendship with the couple.

Ruth accused Denise of stealing her idea for the story and concluded it entitled her to monetary compensation. Angry enough to kill the author gave her motive, but I couldn't figure out opportunity because she was one of the last to arrive and stood furthest away.

Mike's motive was lust. He was sexually attracted to Denise, but she turned him down for a date. He determined if he couldn't have her, then nobody would. My guess is that his hand size will match the bruising on her arm. He was behind me, so his opportunity eluded me.

Mary refused to talk. She may be the killer but she wants everyone else to accuse me so she wins.

The other suspects didn't have a solid motive. At least not strong enough for me to accuse any of them. Mary was my prime suspect, but I still had my doubts.

Good news for me. The lab analyzed my book, and it was free of unusual substances, except for a spot of peanut butter on the spine. One of my kids must have moved the book while eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The computer search revealed that the skin could absorb several toxins that would not show up on a tox screen. Mary insisted that I dosed Denise when I shook her hand. I hadn't even remembered shaking it.

Joseph asked for our deductions. "May I ask another question first?"

"Yes."

"Is Denise allergic to peanut butter?"

"No, she has no known allergies."

"That means I didn't cause anaphylaxis from the peanut butter on my book."

"We are out of time. I need to know who you all will be accusing."

Mary and the others all accused me of murder. They agreed I was a deranged fan who poisoned Denise somehow when I shook her hand, but they would need additional bloodwork to determine which drug I used.

Joseph turned to me. "Are you guilty? Are they all correct?"

"No, I didn't murder her." Shock, disbelieve, then disappointment crossed all their faces.

"Who do you suspect?"

"At first, I suspected Mary, but the doctor's report got me considering an alternative. My guess is that with her sweating, swollen feet, high triglyceride levels, and the doctor's statement that her heart stopped, she died of natural causes. A massive heart attack to be exact."

Joseph looked at me. "I'm impressed with your deductive reasoning."

Mary's face turned red, her body stiffened. "But you said one of us murdered Denise!"

"No Mary. I said you all witnessed her death and needed to solve the mystery." Mary looked like she would explode by the colors her faced changed. She stomped out of the room.

The rest of us looked to Joseph for the answer. "You are correct, Denise died of a heart attack. Thank you all for playing. I hope you had fun and don't forget to watch the premiere of 'Celebrity Deaths. Can You Solve the Mystery?' coming to CBS in September."