Murder Packs a Suitcase Read Free

creative thought that had gone into building it.
    â€œYes,” she replied sincerely. “I love it. I can’t think of any other experience that comes close.”
    Mr. Pierce nodded approvingly. Mallory was pleased that she seemed to have given the correct answer.
    â€œSo, given your past experience,” Mr. Pierce continued, “it sounds as if you’d feel perfectly comfortable writing about a wide variety of destinations.”
    Something about the way he used
writing
and
destinations
in the same sentence made a lightbulb go off in Mallory’s head.
    â€œMr. Pierce,” she said cautiously, “I think there may have been a slight misunderstanding here.” She used the word
slight
because she didn’t want him to feel as if he’d completely wasted his time. After all, she was still hoping for the job she’d come all the way into New York to interview for, the one that involved nothing more demanding than reading press releases and organizing dates and accurately recording the phone numbers and websites required to receive additional information.
    â€œFirst of all, please call me Trevor,” the managing editor corrected her. “Only my newspaper delivery boy calls me Mr. Pierce. Second, I don’t understand what misunderstanding you’re referring to. I need a good travel writer, especially since our previous one quit in a huff three days ago and we’ve got deadlines to think about.” With a little shrug, he added, “You seem to fill the bill. In fact, I think you’d be great.”
    â€œMe?” Mallory squawked, still trying to comprehend what she was hearing. “Why?”
    â€œBecause you’re not some twenty-two-year-old who’s right out of college and figures free travel means good beer, interesting clubs, and attractive locals to meet and greet,” Trevor replied matter-of-factly. “You’ll bring a more mature perspective to your articles. The magazine’s readership is aging, just as the whole country is aging. The one theme that keeps coming up at meetings is that we’ve got to keep up with that trend and make sure we continue to communicate with our audience. You, Mallory Marlowe, can do that for me.”
    â€œBut—but…” A hundred questions popped into her head. “How much traveling does the job require?”
    â€œJust one trip a month,” he replied. “We try to vary the places we cover, in terms of both geography and the kind of people they’re likely to appeal to most. And the length of the trips ranges from a couple of days to close to a week.”
    â€œHow about the articles? How long would they be?” Mallory imagined staying up until two a.m. night after night, putting together an in-depth report about a place she’d visited only for a few days.
    â€œAbout two thousand words,” he said. “Eight pages, double-spaced. But we’re not looking for a detailed analysis. If you’re familiar with the magazine, you already know that the tone we go for is lighthearted. While our primary goal is imparting solid information, entertaining our readers is at least as important. In other words, we’d want you to take a positive approach and make traveling to each of the destinations sound like fun.”
    Mallory sat frozen in her seat, just staring at him. But while her face and body were showing few signs of movement, her mind was racing.
    I can’t do this! she was thinking. I’m still having such a difficult time just getting through the day that I have to check to make sure I’m not still in my pajamas every time I leave the house! Taking on a brand-new career is light years beyond me right now.
    Still, she couldn’t ignore the fact that this man, this stranger with the impressive title of managing editor, apparently believed in her. Not only was he confident that she could do this job, he had just said in so many words that he thought