Death on a Deadline

not to leave town.” She wiped her hands on her napkin. “For the life of me, I can’t imagine why they took Zac in. A lot of people had run-ins with Hank. You know what? On the way home, Zac told us that even his golf teacher had a fight with Hank recently.”
    “Do the police know that?” I felt a little guilty, hoping to incriminate someone else, but someone murdered Hank, and it wasn’t Zac.
    “Don’t you dare tell them!” We spun around to see Zac standing in the doorway, his eyes red-rimmed. “Elliott didn’t kill Hank!”
    “I’m sure he didn’t.” Carly’s quiet tone couldn’t hide her frustration. “But neither did you.”
    “Mom, Elliott got mad at Hank over something you might understand. His fiancée left him.”
    “What did that have to do with Hank?” I asked casually, my heart in my throat. Had Hank been cheating on Marge and been killed by a jealous boyfriend?
    “Not Hank, the paper. It had something to do with the paper. I don’t know what.” Zac stomped over to the refrigerator and snagged a single-serving bottle of orange juice. He glared at his mom as he popped the top. “I’m sorry I even told you. He was only trying to make me feel better about getting fired.”
    “I understand, son, but—” Carly cast me a pleading glance.
    “Want a crescent roll?” When in doubt, distract.
    Sure enough, Zac nodded and took one. Another dangerous situation defused with food. “I’m going out to the course.”
    “Today?” Carly looked dumbfounded.
    Zac grunted. “I’m a suspect, not a prisoner.” He snatched one more roll and blew out like a spring tornado.
    We sat in silence for a few seconds, then Carly swiveled her barstool back and forth. “You know, I can’t help but wonder. . . .”
    “What?”
    “Well, we know Zac didn’t kill Hank. And Zac’s positive Elliott didn’t. So who did?”
    “Good question. I’ve been thinking the same thing.” I picked up Carly’s dishes. “They always say it’s most likely a family member. But somehow I can’t imagine Marge killing anyone.” Like an eccentric old aunt, Marge had been around as long as I could remember, giving us gum after church when we were little and buying chocolate bars and Girl Scout cookies from us as we grew older. Her sister, Amelia, relished her high-profile role as the mayor’s wife, but Marge had seemed content in her middle-class life with cantankerous old Hank.
    “Oh, I don’t know.” An impish grin flitted across Carly’s tired face. “Maybe she finally managed to nag him to death,” she drawled.
    “ Carly Elizabeth Reece! You are so bad.”
    “I was kidding.” Her smile disappeared. “But I shouldn’t have said it. It’s hard enough to get along with a normal man. Marge deserves a badge of honor for putting up with Hank’s bad temper and know-it-all attitude for so many years.”
    “Well, we’ve known her forever. I can’t believe she killed him, so who does that leave?” I wrung out the dishcloth and wiped off the counter.
    “You’re the one who’s always got your nose in those murder mysteries. You tell me.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yes, that makes me an expert.” I tossed the cloth into the sink. “Seriously, though. . .if we could find out who did it, that would clear Zac.”
    “We? You got a frog in your pocket?” Carly’s voice squeaked and she shook her head. “I get scared readin’ those books. I’m not about to live one.”
    “Not even for Zac?” Yes, that was below the belt, but if I was going to get to the bottom of this, I had to have help.
    Carly shook her head again. “The best thing we can do for Zac is pray and let the police do their job. They’ll find the killer, and that’ll prove Zac’s innocence.”
    Where had I heard that before? Was Carly the mouthpiece for the chief of police now? “I know. You’re right, and we will pray. But they say God helps those who help themselves, so—”
    “Oh, Jen, that’s not even in the Bible. Besides, this is too important for us to play detective. We don’t want to make things worse for Zac.” Carly hesitated. “Sugar, your track record’s not that great. Remember in school how mixed up things would get every time you decided to ‘help’ figure things out?”
    I bristled. “I’ve helped plenty of people.”
    Carly’s smile was gentle. “Like Susan?”
    “How was I supposed to know that girl with Barry was his cousin? They were picking out jewelry together.”
    “Yeah, gifts for the