Murdered in the Man Cave (A Riley Reed Cozy Mystery) Read Free Page B

him well and actually attended their
wedding.
    The marriage lasted three years before Brent
set his sights on the woman who would become wife number four,
Margo London. In the meantime, Ashley would move on too, eventually
marrying a newspaper editor named Dean McGowan.
    Margo, also a novelist, though hers were
romance novels, seemed like a good match for Brent. She was also
the closest to his age and appeared unfazed by his previous failed
marriages.
    Brent gave every indication that Margo was
the true love of his life, displaying public affection whenever I
happened to come along for the ride at some event. I was genuinely
happy for them and not at all jealous, as I was content with my own
life and career.
    Then last year, things grew sour in their
marriage with Brent accusing Margo of cheating on him, which she
apparently conceded was true, while making no apologies. After a
brief separation, then an attempt to reconcile, they called it
quits for good.
    Brent appeared to have come to terms with the
breakup and divorce, pouring himself into his writings, before
starting to date his latest girlfriend, Karla Terrell, a local
model who seemed to have little in common with him. Not that this
had stopped Brent before, so who was I to say it wouldn't work?
    I pulled into an open slot in the restaurant
parking lot, while again wondering about the purpose of the dinner
invitation.
    Could it be that he was planning to go down
the aisle for the fifth time and wanted to share the news with a
dear old friend?
    If so, I promised to support whatever
decision he had made on his future, just as he usually respected my
choices in how I lived my life.
     

CHAPTER
THREE
     
    Brent was waiting inside the lobby when I
stepped into the restaurant. He was several inches taller than me
and several pounds heavier than when we first met. But he remained
well put together, dressed in a black sport coat, light blue shirt,
and dark slacks.
    "Riley," he said in a deep voice, giving me a
formal peck on the cheek. "Glad you could make it."
    I smiled. "You know me—I never pass up a good
meal, especially when it's free."
    He grinned. "And I'm never one to pass up
good company."
    I blushed. "Always a charmer."
    "I'm afraid not everyone appreciates old
fashioned charm the way you do, Riley," he said.
    I met his eyes. "I'm sure your girlfriend
does."
    He frowned. "We broke up last month."
    "Oh, sorry to hear that," I said, wondering
how many times over the years I'd had to repeat those same words to
him.
    "Don't be. It was mutually agreeable. Well,
truthfully, I wanted out more than she did, but Karla understood
that the romance had run its course."
    "In that case, perhaps it was for the best,"
I muttered, but still felt sorry for him, as he deserved to find
someone who could make him happy for the long run. Or was that
asking too much?
    "Yes, I think it was for the best," he said.
Brent held my elbow like a true gentleman as the hostess led us to
a table.
    We both ordered wine while studying the menu.
"Any suggestions?" I asked.
    "Try the honey glazed duck breast," Brent
said. "It's really good. I think I'll have the teriyaki marinated
sirloin."
    I took him up on that when the waitress came
to take our orders, adding spinach-mushroom salad and dinner
rolls.
    When the waitress left, Brent asked, "So how
have you been?"
    "Fine. Busy as ever, and I imagine you could
say the same."
    "Maybe not quite busy as ever ," he
said, "but busy nevertheless."
    I tasted the wine thoughtfully while
wondering what was on his mind in inviting me to dinner. As I
waited for him to be forthcoming, I decided to say what was on my
mind.
    "I ran into Emily at Elk Community College
the other day."
    "Oh? Are you taking classes there too?"
    "Just one," I told him. "An art class."
    "That seems to suit you, with your artistic
flair," he said.
    "I suppose it does." I smiled slightly.
"Emily told me that the school asked you to teach a course on
writing."
    "Yes, they thought I might have