A Murder Among Friends. Ramona Richards

“We’ll finish tomorrow. Nothing is going to get solved tonight. I’ll talk to the other residents in the morning. Tyler will get the analysis done. There’s a good chance our killer left more than fingerprints on that bottle. We can get elimination prints from everyone here, if they’ll cooperate—”

      “My fingerprints will be on that bottle.”

      He nodded. “I know.”

      “I didn’t kill him. Neither did Lily.”

      Silently, he stood up, pulling her up with him, then he put his hand on her elbow as she climbed the stairs. They were almost at the door when a memory sparked in her brain—just a flash, but it might be important. Maggie turned abruptly at the door, to speak to Tyler.

      The pain slapped into her face almost at the same time she recognized the sound of the gunshot in the distance. There was a moment when she wondered where the pain was coming from, almost as if it were not a part of her. Then everything shifted into a slow blur. She felt remote, pulled out of her body, and she heard herself screaming. She was falling, then not, then there was the solid wood of the deck beneath her. At once, the pain hit in full force, a thousand shards of glass against her skin. Then Maggie’s vision faded, and with the darkness, relief. She closed her eyes, embracing it.