Never Thwart a Thespian: Volume 8 (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series) by Edie Claire

But I may send it to the lab anyway. It definitely raises suspicion that Marconi could have met with foul play at that location.”
    Allison puffed up with pride, but Leigh felt her heart sinking into her shoes. Call her crazy, but she would be happier if the number of unsolved homicides occurring inside her Aunt Bess’s theater remained at its current total of one.
    “You know, it’s odd,” Maura continued, musing. “If this is Marconi’s case, he wouldn’t have carried it around empty. At some point, somebody else must have dumped its contents, and it’s highly likely that something in those contents would have identified him by name.”
    “It could have been somebody working at the haunted house who’d never heard of Marconi or the mystery about him,” Allison suggested. “They could have just seen it as one more piece of junk in the pile.”
    “True,” Maura agreed. “Although I’d wager a guess that most of the population of West View is familiar with the name, what with all the press about the strip club and the entire community pretty much waging war on the man.”
    “People know the name, yes,” Leigh remarked, suddenly thoughtful. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean they would assume this briefcase was important to the police. Now that I think about it, everyone I’ve talked to about Marconi has had the impression that he skipped town. Whether he’s dead or alive now, no one seems to know or care, but they don’t talk about him like he was a victim of…” Leigh hesitated. She really did hate even saying the word. “Murder.”
    Maura nodded. “You’re right about that, Koslow. In the department, we saw the investigation turn from missing person to possible homicide, but in the community, the story was already legend as it stood. The little people had won the battle, and the big bad Marconi had run away like a thief in the night. The suggestion of foul play against him didn’t surface for some time, and even then, what evidence did trickle in never got much traction in the press.” She patted the briefcase at her side. “Not until the Morton women came on the scene, anyway,” she said wryly, her eyes twinkling at Allison.
    Leigh’s imagination flashed with an image of her daughter wearing a blue uniform and leaping about with a gun. She felt a strong surge of motherly panic. “Allison wants to be a veterinarian,” she blurted.
    Both Maura and Allison turned and stared at her.
    “Yes, well,” Leigh murmured, before either could comment. She stepped forward and retrieved Chewie from where he had nearly fallen asleep, his tawny muzzle draped across Maura’s baby bump. The dog eyed her reproachfully as she set him down on the ground and reattached him to the leash in her pocket. “We need to get back home, Allison, and your Aunt Mo needs her rest.”
    Maura made a rude snort. “Rest? What do you think I do all day?”
    Leigh threw her friend a meaningful look. She had more she wanted to discuss, including the claims of the neighbors regarding mysterious after-hours activity inside the building. But she had no intention of adding any more tidbits to the building’s already-macabre history within 500 yards of Allison’s hearing. Can I call you later? Her gaze begged. The kids were enjoying themselves, they were earning money, and with luck they would be done in two or three more days. She could accept that situation if she must, but surely the less they knew about the building’s dark side, the less likely they’d be to go looking for trouble.
    Maura responded to Leigh’s unspoken plea with a tight-lipped frown. “I guess maybe I could use another snooze,” she said dutifully. “But thanks for coming, Allie, and for the dog therapy. Oh, and thanks for the physical evidence in the cold case — not just everybody delivers that sort of thing to my bedside, you know.”
    Allison smiled back at the detective, and her dark eyes flashed. A look of understanding passed between the two