A Hint of Murder

By Lia Fairchild

This anthology compiles all three A Hint of Murder stories in one book:

A Hint of Murder: The Writer
Alicia Fairfield didn't plan on being famous. Now a bestselling author with millions of fans, Alicia also has the attention of a killer. Someone has been recreating the murders from her books and the suspects are piling up; her mentally ill son, a disgruntled associate, and possibly even her loyal literary agent. The pressure of public recognition along with the guilt over these senseless killings could be enough to drive Alicia over the edge. Can she hold it together long enough to uncover a killer?
Story length 9,000 words

A Hint of Murder: The Doctor
Russell Morgan had it all; good looks, the perfect woman and a rewarding career as a well-respected physician. When the doctor's patients start turning up dead, his world comes crashing down. Second in the "A Hint of Murder" series, this short story brings Detective John Lewis back in action to track down the killer.
Story length: 12,000 words

A Hint of Murder: The Bouncer
Bobby Crane was tired of being a bouncer and a glorified errand boy. He longed to be a professional singer and was just about to get his big break. Then Allen Schaffer is found murdered and Bobby's car was spotted at the victim's home. Third in the A Hint of Murder series, this story has detective John Lewis returning with a new partner to uncover a murderer.
Story length: 10,400 words

Also included is one bonus mystery entitled "Homeless" and excerpts from the novels of these mystery and thriller writers: Libby Fischer Hellmann, Valerie Maarten, Mel Comley, Sibel Hodge, Faith Mortimer, and Seb Kirby.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lia Fairchild
• Release date: Apr 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393651178

Lia Fairchild

Born and raised in Southern California, Lia Fairchild holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a multiple subject teaching credential. She is also the author of the mystery series A Hint of Murder, and a short story romance entitled “Special Delivery”. Writing is something Fairchild has thought about all her life, and she found completing In Search of Lucy truly satisfying. Watch for her next novel, a thriller, coming soon.

Book preview

A HINT OF MURDER: THE WRITER

Bestselling author Alicia Fairfield has captured the attention of a killer who is recreating the murders from her books. The guilt over the loss of these innocent lives drives Alicia to the brink of despair. How close to the edge will she go before she can stop the menacing evil?

A HINT OF MURDER: THE WRITER

Since the first body was discovered, she’d had nothing but heartache, worry and guilt. Alicia Fairfield prayed it was a coincidence; that the murdered young woman had nothing to do with the story she had created. A story that was played out on the big screen just last week. Perhaps making Vegas Vendetta, her tenth bestseller, into a movie had been a mistake. The Las Vegas Showgirl was fatally stabbed the night of the premiere. Alicia and her agent Edward spoke to the police the next day before Alicia returned to her million-dollar home snuggly perched in the rolling hills of Marin County.

Alicia clutched the bottle tightly, closed the medicine cabinet and stared at herself in the mirror. A pair of icy blue eyes gazed back at her as she smoothed down her straight blonde hair. At forty-five, she was just beginning to show the signs of aging. For a moment, the stranger in the reflection hypnotized her but she tore herself away from the image and left for the kitchen. She passed through her dining room, decorated to perfection, and her hallway adorned with gorgeous paintings, some of them her own creations. When she reached the sink she filled a glass with water and took it along with the pill bottle to the other side of the counter. Setting them down next to her laptop, she took a seat at the end barstool.

Alicia glanced down at the morning paper, and reread the headline. Copy Cat Killer Strikes Again. The article detailed the killing of the showgirl and linked it to the recent murder of a nurse found dead behind a free clinic in Novato. A source told the paper that a page from A.J. Field’s novel From the Shadows had been left with the nurse’s body. The pen name was Alicia’s attempt to have a private life and keep her family—mainly her mentally ill son—away from public scrutiny.

Alicia set the paper down and turned to her laptop. Mesmerized by the blinking cursor, she contemplated what she would write. For the first time, these would be her words. It was possible two lives had been taken because of the words she’d written in her novels. Should these be the last words anyone would ever read from A.J. Field?

The white page grew blurry as tears welled in her eyes. She rested her hands on the keyboard, sighed and began to type the incoherent thoughts that scattered in her mind:

To my dearest David, a beloved son who never found happiness, I am truly sorry. And, my agent Edward, thank you for years of support and friendship. I would never have made it this far without you. To all my faithful fans out there, I’m so grateful I enriched and heightened your love of reading. As I truly believe that our decisions—

A loud pounding at the door startled Alicia and made her jump. She sat frozen, wondering what to do. The pounding came again accompanied by a loud grumbling voice. Alicia! Alicia, open the door! It’s me Edward!

Fearing the dreadful tone in his voice, Alicia grabbed the pills and stashed the bottle in her purse. She raced to the door and opened it.

My God, Alicia! her agent said, out of breath and leaning on the door jam. At sixty, he wasn’t in the best of shape. Why haven’t you answered my calls? He didn’t wait for an answer and stepped into the foyer. Are you all right? He glanced around the area and cast a concerned look upon her and waited for answers.

Edward, I’m fine. I just needed some time to think. Her voice was calm; believable. Alicia grabbed him by the arm and led him to the kitchen. Let’s get you something to drink, have you rest a bit. Even though she saw him as a big brother—he was more than ten years her senior—she often felt the need to take care of him.

Alicia went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher. Tea? she asked as Edward took a seat at the bar.

He nodded with a smile and watched as she poured the tea. Then suddenly, Alicia gasped as she realized she hadn’t closed the keyboard before running to the door. Her hand shook uncontrollably and her calm cover had been blown. Tea splashed over the glass onto the counter causing Edward to go to her.

Let me help, Edward said. He removed the pitcher from her hand with care and set it on the counter. Instinctively he took her in his arms and held her close.  You’ve heard the news I take it, he said in a gentle tone. It’s okay, Alicia. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here.

She barely made a sound, yet Edward’s shirt dampened beneath her cheek. Surprisingly she had never let him see her like that and wasn’t sure how he would react. His gentle voice and strong arms were comforting, different from his routine business demeanor.

Edward walked Alicia into the next room, rubbing her back. Here...let’s sit and talk. He had grown expert in dealing with Alicia during difficult writing times.  Whenever she had a notion to quit it all and concentrate on her painting, or was conflicted over a storyline or character, he always skillfully talked her down. But this was different. How could he tell her everything would be all right when there were two innocent girls that had been murdered? Killed in almost the exact circumstances of her last two novels.

Did the police contact you? he asked.

Yes, they were here a couple hours ago, she answered without looking up. She rested her head on his shoulder and explained her visit with the police.

When the two investigators arrived earlier that day, Alicia tried to be as helpful as possible. She offered them both a drink and asked if they’d like to sit. Detective John Lewis declined for both and seemed anxious to get down to business. His partner didn’t provide his name and spoke as little as possible.

I’m sure you’ve read the paper by now, Ms. Fairfield.

Yes, I’ve seen it, Alicia said nodding.

Detective Lewis pulled a small pad of paper from his back pocket. He was a tall, solidly built man. His voice was deep and scratchy but was camouflaged by a friendly smile. We just have a few questions to ask.

I understand, Detective. I’ll do whatever I can to help. Obviously I’m very concerned, Alicia said.

"You and your agent were in Las Vegas for the premiere of Vegas Vendetta, correct?"

Yes, we already spoke to the police there.

Yes...and both of you reported that you were in your hotel rooms at the time of the murder.

That’s correct, Alicia answered. She couldn’t help worrying where he was going with the questioning.

And last night, could you tell us where you were?

I was here, painting.

Oh. The detective looked up. I thought you were a writer, he questioned with a smile.

I paint for my own pleasure. Writing is my profession.

Was anyone here with you?

No. I live alone, Alicia stated defensively. "Detective, I’m assuming you are trying to see if I have an alibi, which I don’t. But let me tell you something, I do feel responsible. Those were my words on the pages left by the killer. Don’t you understand how horrible that makes me feel?" Alicia’s face grew flush, and her eyes glazed over, as she wrapped her arms around herself.

At that point the silent detective came to Alicia’s side and put a hand on her shoulder. Ma’am, try not to blame yourself. These crazies are going to kill if they want to kill. We’re just trying to get all the information here.

Alicia stepped away to gain her composure. Is there anything else I can do for you, Detectives? I’ve got a conference call in a few moments.

Getting things back on track, Detective Lewis proceeded. Sorry, we’re almost done. Now, is there anyone you can think of that might have a personal vendetta against you?

What? Why would that matter?

We’re just trying to cover all the bases here. We’ve seen this type of thing before. Sometimes people kill to get back at someone else...or to work out aggression brought on by another. So you really need to think about any past problems you’ve had with anyone.

Alicia’s face revealed that she had suddenly remembered something.

What is it? the detective probed.

About five years ago I was sued. It was over the rights to one of my books.

Taking out his pencil he prepared to write. Who sued you?

"His name is Howard Grayson. He was an acquaintance from college. Over the years we’d connect for one reason or another. Each time, he would ask me to co-author a book with him. I kept telling him that I just don’t work like that. I don’t just decide to write this story or that one. The stories come to me through the characters. They tell the stories."

Alicia watched as the two detectives exchanged a curious look. They obviously didn’t understand her creative process.

What was the result of the case? Did you win?

Yes. But, actually it was quite awful.

Winning? he asked, perplexed.

No, Howard had to be contained. He was so distraught over losing, he started shouting at me and trying to get to me. I remember him telling me that he’d get back at me somehow, but I never heard from him again.

Do you know where he lives?

At the time of the case, he was living in Novato. But I’m not sure about now.

This is very helpful, Ms. Fairfield. Thanks for your time.

The three walked toward the door. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Detectives.

We’ll be in touch, ma’am.

Upon exiting, Detective Lewis left Alicia his card and told her to call the instant she thought of anything that would help. But there was only one thing Alicia could think of that would help; or at least relieve her of the agony of watching this thing play itself out. Regrettably she wouldn’t take the easy way out yet, thanks to Edward’s interruption.

Edward, why is this happening? Alicia pulled herself back to the present.

I don’t know, but I’m sure the police will find who’s doing this. Edward took Alicia by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Until then, I think you should stay with me...just to be safe.

Edward, I’m not leaving my home.

Then I’ll stay here with you.

I appreciate your concern, but that’s not really necessary.

No argument, I’m staying.

Alicia’s home phone rang cutting in to their debate. Only a select few had that number so she always felt uneasy when it rang; worried it was bad news about her son.  Alicia loved him dearly and was delighted to hear David’s voice, but she didn’t want to be reminded of the life he was living. Currently he was staying as an outpatient in a mental facility being treated for schizophrenia and depression. He had been doing very well lately due to his dedication to taking his meds. Rarely did he leave the hospital though and most of the times she saw David it was at the facility.

Just a minute, I should probably get that, Alicia said heading for the kitchen.

Edward followed and went straight for his tea.

Hello, Alicia answered keeping a watchful eye on Edward.

Mom, hi. It’s me, she heard David say.

David, so nice to hear from you. Is everything okay?

Mom, why do you always think something is wrong?

I’m sorry. You know how I worry. Alicia smiled at Edward when she