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When Did You Meet Your Killer?
 Release date 2012
 

Three years have passed since Marge’s vacation at Ocean Shores was disrupted by murder.  Life in Bellevue was quiet and full. Her children were well, she was busy with painting, and even busier planning her upcoming wedding.  Then she heard a breaking news report on the radio that someone had been killed in Bellevue.

 
“Two weeks.”  Marge struggled to keep her voice from rising as she talked to Kate.  “Two weeks before the wedding and someone has to go and get killed.  Pete will have no time for getting married.  What am I going to do?”
 
“Now, Mom ,” Kate’s reasoning voice came across the line.  “You have been in these situations before.  In two weeks the murderer will probably be behind bars and everything will go on as planned.”

“I have this awful feeling,” Marge said, as she poured hot water over the herbal tea bag in her mug.

Kate knew exactly what her mother was talking about.  “Mom, I don’t see how you could be involved this time.” 

Marge thanked God for the wisdom He had endowed on her daughter—at least when it came to other people’s lives. 

“Thank you, Kate, that’s just the common sense I need to hear right now.”

Hanging up the phone, Marge cupped the mug in her hands and stepped onto her deck to look out over the multiple shades of green in Kelsey Creek Park .  She took a deep breath and savored the freshness of the air after a mid-day rain

The ringing of the telephone drew her back into the apartment.  “Oh, Pete,” she said as soon as she heard his voice. “I’m glad you called.” 

There was a moment of silence.

“Pete?  Is something wrong?” 

“This murder … the victim … ah, Marge. I’m sorry. It was Joshua. Your boss.”

Marge felt a painful vise clamp her throat.  For a moment she couldn’t breathe.  When the pressure became too much to stand, a sob escaped.  “Joshua?  How?  When?  Why?  At the shop?”

“I wish I could have told you in person,” Pete said, “but I can’t get away right now and I didn’t want you to learn about it on the news.”  Marge heard a voice in the background call out to Pete.  “I have to go, but I phoned Melissa and she should be there any minute.”

Marge was at her open apartment door with one arm tight across her stomach and one hand clamped over her mouth when Melissa arrived.  Melissa pulled her friend back into the apartment, closed the door, and wrapped Marge in her arms.

“Oh, Marge, I’m so sorry.”

Marge hiccoughed through her sobs.  “Who would want to hurt that gentle old man?” she stammered.

“That’s what Pete is going to find out.”