The Ghost and the Mystery Writer by Anna J. McIntyre

knew it, I had worked out my plot. At least the important parts.”
    â€œHow did you get your idea for this story?” Danielle asked, still standing.
    Hillary took a sip of milk before saying, “It just came to me. Like they always do. I guess I just have a wild imagination.”
    â€œWhere does this story take place? I know you don’t like to talk about your work when you first begin writing, but I thought perhaps you could tell me at least that.”
    Hillary set the glass of milk back on the desk and smiled up at Danielle. “Well, you did bring me up this delicious piece of cake, so I suppose I can at least tell you that. But I don’t think it will be much of a surprise. My story will take place in a little town just like Frederickport. Of course, I’ll give it another name, make it a fictional place. I don’t like to write about real locations.” Hillary took another bite of the cake and then another.
    â€œWhy is that?”
    â€œFor one thing, people are always trying to say my stories are based on real events—which they aren’t. They come from my imagination. The minute I use a real location, I’ll have to be careful what I write about my characters or someone will insist I’ve based those on real people from the town.”
    â€œSince you’re a murder mystery author and your next story is taking place in a town based on Frederickport, I don’t suppose your victim gets killed under the pier. Now that would be a little creepy.”
    Hillary set her fork on her now empty plate and looked up at Danielle. “Why is that, dear?”
    Danielle shrugged. “Well, that’s where poor Jolene—the woman who was killed last night—was murdered. Under the pier.”
    â€œReally? I thought Joanne said she was murdered on the beach.”
    â€œYeah, but under the pier.” Danielle studied Hillary.
    â€œYou know what it says in Ecclesiastics,” Hillary said brightly.
    â€œEcclesiastics? Umm…no…what?”
    â€œThere really is nothing new under the sun. Which means all stories have already been told. So it’s not unusual for a fictional murder mystery to have some similarities to a real-life case. It doesn’t mean the author borrowed from the real-life events.”
    Hillary picked up her empty plate and glass and handed them to Danielle. “This was really sweet of you, dear, but I really need to get back to work.”
    Reluctantly, Danielle took the plate and glass. She glanced over to the pile of papers on the bed before leaving the room with Walt.

    â€œ E xactly what did that accomplish ?” Walt asked as he followed Danielle back down the stairs.
    â€œNothing really. I was hoping to have more to tell the chief,” Danielle whispered.
    â€œAre you going to say something to him?”
    â€œI have to. I’d love to get my hands on her notes first. But I don’t see that happening.”
    â€œI could probably help you there,” Walt suggested.
    Danielle shook her head. “No. If you spirited away the pages she wrote about Jolene’s murder—”
    â€œSpirited away?” Walt laughed.
    â€œIsn’t that what you’d be doing?” Danielle entered the kitchen and set the dirty dishes in the sink before turning to face Walt.
    â€œI suppose so.”
    â€œAnyway, that would practically be stealing them from her room, and all it would do is verify what you said you read. The chief couldn’t use them to force Hillary to admit she knew something about the murder, not if they were obtained illegally. So what’s the point?” Danielle glanced nervously at the kitchen door leading to the hallway.
    â€œI suppose you’re right.”
    Danielle turned back to the sink. “I just can’t believe she had something to do with the murder. It just feels all wrong—in spite of what you read.”
    â€œPerhaps I overreacted,” Walt