membership.”
“As well as to about a bajillion other people,” Charley said hotly. “This is Oakwood—everybody knows everybody. It almost sounds as if you
want
it to be one of the Agathas.” She narrowed her eyes. “Am I a suspect?”
He sighed. “Of course not. Let’s stay focused. The central issue is still motive. Why were these women killed, and what’s the reason for staging the crimes to look like your books?”
“Maybe the staging is the reason,” Paul mused. “Some crazy lady thinks she’s the Zodiac Killer, and she just found her own personal list of MOs to follow in a nice, neatly typed list.”
“In which case,” Zehring said, “your job will be more difficult.”
“But not impossible,” Marc said. “We don’t abandon basic investigative procedure. If motive doesn’t lead us to the killer, then we examine means and opportunity.”
“But it could be anyone with access to our reading list,” Charley protested.
“Who does have access to the list?”
Charley opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Crap.
“Almost no one outside our group. Most book clubs order their books through a local bookstore. Members stop in and pay for them when they’re ready, but that wasn’t good enough for Midge. She used one of her connections to order everything directly from the various publishers.” She sighed. “My books were delivered directly to my house. We all knew what books we’d chosen, but as far as I know, that list doesn’t physically exist anywhere outside the typed copies we were handed at the September meeting.”
“No one posts it online?” Marc pursued. “On Facebook, Pinterest, any other social media?”
Charley almost laughed. “Have you met the Agathas? I’m not sure Midge even has an email account.”
“So, by your own admission, your book list didn’t become available until mid-September. That’s barely nine weeks ago,” Zehring said. “Can we agree these killings were carefully, even meticulously planned?”
Paul nodded. “I’d say that’s a given.”
“Well, then, unless one of the members distributed copies for some reason, the time line dramatically increases the likelihood that a member of your club is behind these killings,” Zehring concluded flatly.
Marc sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t disagree. We’ll have to interview all the, uh, Agathas, to determine if any of them have alibis for either murder.”
“Whoa, hold up there, Casey Jones,” Paul said in alarm. “We can’t just go barreling into some of the most prominent households in this city and ask if we can see their Taser collection. If word gets out that we think one of these ladies is a serial killer…”
“Wait a minute.” Charley struggled to gather her wits. “Detective Brixton’s right. Five minutes after you question the first Agatha, half the people in Oakwood will know every single word you said.”
“The way I see it, we have a big advantage right now. We’ve made the connection, but the killer doesn’t know that.” Paul shrugged. “Maybe we should keep it that way.”
“Investigate without questioning our prime suspects? How do you propose we do that?” Marc asked.
“Ms. Carpenter makes an excellent point.” Zehring’s tone was grudging. “We will temporarily suppress the connection, particularly from the press. Will Dr. Krugh cooperate?”
“I’ll handle Sharon,” Marc said, a bit too eagerly for Charley’s taste. “She doesn’t know anything about the books, only that a stunner was used on both victims.”
“Very well.” Zehring sat forward. “Your best guess. Is our killer from this city?”
Marc didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. Someone lured Serena across that parking lot. She knew her killer. And it’s highly unlikely that somebody from outside this social circle just happened to know Lisa was alone and returned to kill her before she’d locked up and left.”
Paul said, “Even if the killer is disabling her victims first, she still has
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