Murder List by Julie Garwood

for a space. The dim lighting made it difficult for her to see. Sophie was directing from the backseat. “There’s one… no that’s a driveway. Never mind. Keep going.”
    “Look at that idiot jogging down the middle of the street. Is he trying to get killed?” Cordie said.
    “I’ve got to start running again,” Sophie said. “I’ll run with you, Regan, on the university path.”
    “I don’t go there anymore,” Regan said. “Not since the indoor track was finished at the hotel. It’s much more convenient.”
    “I’d work out more often if I had a gym in my house,” Cordie said.
    “When have you ever worked out?” Sophie asked.
    “I work out,” Cordie countered. “I just don’t do it consistently.” Sophie laughed. “If you’d only get into shape, you wouldn’t have to diet all the—” Cordie cut her off. “You were going to tell us your big plan.”
    “What?”

    Cordie patiently repeated the reminder. “Oh, my God,” Sophie said. “I forgot.” Regan looked at her in the mirror. “You forgot your big plan?”
    “No, I forgot to tell you what happened today. You’re not going to believe it.”
    “So tell us,” Cordie demanded.
    “Mary Coolidge’s neighbor finally called me back. I’ve left at least ten messages for the man over the past couple of weeks and was about to give up, but as it turned out, he was out of town, and that’s why he didn’t call.”
    “And?” Cordie prodded.
    “You know that Shields always has two assistants flanking his sides?”
    “Yes,” Regan said. “Mary wrote about them in her journal.”
    “They’re really his goons.”
    “Goons? Who says ‘goons’ these days?” Cordie asked with a laugh.
    “Mary’s neighbor,” Sophie said. “He called them goons. Now, pay attention. Mary told her daughter that Shields said he’d hired the two men as bodyguards. She was afraid of them and said they seemed to enjoy intimidating people. They even went so far as to wear sunglasses day and night.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” Regan said.
    She spotted a car backing out of a parking space, put her blinker on, and pulled in.
    “So what did the neighbor say?” Cordie asked. She was getting a crick in her neck looking at Sophie.
    “He was letting his cat in when he saw two men walking up Mary’s drive.” Regan turned the motor off. “And you think they went to her house to threaten her?” Sophie nodded. “This is all speculation, but…”
    “But what?” Regan asked.
    “But I think she told Shields she was going to the police, and he sent his goons to dissuade her.”
    “I guess that’s possible,” Cordie said. “But it’s going to be tough to prove.”
    “Does the neighbor remember when the men were there?” Regan asked.
    “He’s pretty sure they were there the night Mary killed herself. I think they went there to terrorize her, and she thought that taking the pills was the only way out. Either that or…”
    “Jeez, Sophie, quit making us guess,” Cordie said. “Or what?” In a near whisper, Sophie said, “Maybe they forced her to take those pills, and they stayed there until she was unconscious.”
    Regan shook her head. “Think about it, Sophie. What was the last entry in her journal?” Cordie answered. “Too late. They’re coming.”
    “And the handwriting was pretty loopy, wasn’t it?”
    “It was all over the page,” Cordie said, “suggesting that Mary had already ingested pills.”
    “Unless they forced her to take some pills, then let her have a break so she could jot down a few thoughts in her journal, and then forced her to take more, I’d have to say…”
    “Okay, that theory doesn’t hold up,” Sophie said. “But if Shields’s men went there to threaten her…”
    “That would be very difficult to prove,” Regan said.
    “If we got a photo of the bodyguards and showed it to this neighbor…” Cordie began.
    Sophie slapped the headrest behind Cordie. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Only, the