A Story to Kill by Lynn Cahoon

project.
    She’d gotten five offers of representation. From nothing to five in less than a year. She’d been dumbfounded. She interviewed the agents, then went with her gut and hired the woman who Michael had advised against even querying. And she’d never regretted the decision. Husbands may come and go, but a good agent is in it for the long haul.
    Now, writing the last book in her three-book deal, Cat felt pressure to make this book the best of the three. To wow her readers.
    An hour later, with a scene complete, Cat rose and took her chip bag to the window. Finishing off the last few chips, she watched the street, wondering when she’d have to give up the solitude. She enjoyed hosting these retreats, but like most authors she was an introvert, so having this many people in her house drained her.
    Thank God for Shauna, she thought. The girl loved people and talking and was a perfect ying to Cat’s yang, at least in the hostess category. Most of the time, Shauna would be handling the guests, moving them from scheduled activity to free time without Cat even having to be in the area. Cat wasn’t stupid. She knew people would sign up for the retreat to meet a real author. One with connections. She’d lucked out when Tom Cook had arrived. Cat’s work wasn’t even in the same league as this guy. But now that he was gone, she’d have to be more attentive to the group.
    She saw something run across the backyard out of the corner of her eye. Coyote? Or maybe just a stray dog? She’d been hesitant to get a pet mostly because the animal might be considered food for the larger animals that stalked the area at night. They were too close to the national park for her to believe it wasn’t a possibility. What if one of the guests had an allergy? There were so many things to consider for her new business.
    Cat settled back down to her writing chair and dug back into the fictional world. A bang from the attic caused her to jump. “Damn, Seth, keep it down up there.”
    She focused back on the writing. Before long, another bang jerked her out of the story. She saved the document and pushed her chair back. She needed another soda anyway. It was time to give Seth the rules of the house, including times he could make noise in the attic. She had a deadline coming up and she had to meet her daily word goals.
    Had to.
    She started upstairs to the attic but paused when she heard the front door open. Stepping back down to the third floor landing she called out, “Who’s that?”
    â€œGood afternoon to you as well,” Seth called back up to her, as he came up the stairs. She met him on the third-floor landing. He now stood in front of her, a bag from the local hardware store in his hand. “I ran out of finishing nails, and I wanted to finish up a sample of the window seating today. I think you’re going to love it. Of course, you’ll have to make decisions on the upholstery, but we can do that next week.”
    Cat stared at the bag. “So you were upstairs in the attic working, but then you went to the store?”
    â€œYep. See the evidence?” He jiggled the bag with a laugh. He started to step around her, but she grabbed his hand, stopping him. He studied her face. “What the heck’s up with you? Don’t tell me you’re mad about last night. I thought we had fun.”
    â€œNo. I mean, yes, I had fun. But this isn’t about last night. When did you get back from the store?” Cat squeezed his hand, wondering if she was going to pass out.
    â€œAre you all right? You saw me walk in with the bag, what, thirty seconds ago? A minute if you count my parking the truck?” He leaned closer. “You don’t look so good. Do you need to sit down?”
    She pointed to the ceiling. “I was writing and heard something in the attic.” She paused. “Wait, I might have seen something in the backyard earlier. I assumed it was a