Read Murder Most Mellow (A Kate Jasper Mystery) for Free Online Page B

the wrong way. I was driving toward Sarah’s house.
    I took a deep breath, made a U-turn, drove downtown and parked.
    Walking along to the health-food store, my eyes absently skimmed the headlines of the newspapers in the vending machines. The afternoon Marin Independent Journal stopped me cold in my tracks. POLICE INVESTIGATE BIZARRE HOT TUB DEATH, it announced in thick black letters.
    I reached into my purse for change with icy hands. There is something mind-altering about seeing a part of your life in print. I felt drugged as I pulled out a paper, walked slowly to the bus stop, and sat down, my eyes on the newsprint.
    “Local Marin resident and computer programmer, Sarah Quinn, was found dead in her hot tub yesterday. With her in the tub was a robot still plugged into the outdoor electrical outlet. Death was caused by electrocution.” Oh, God! “Chief Deputy Sheriff Horace May would not reveal how the robot came to be in the hot tub. However, reliable sources disclosed that in the past the robot had been programmed to plug itself into the outdoor electrical outlets in order to recharge its batteries.” I remembered the cute little robot with the curly red wig and padded bra. Was that the killer? “It is believed that upon this last occasion the robot was additionally programmed to maneuver itself into Quinn’s hot tub, thereby electrocuting her.”
    My horror in imagining death by electrocution was interrupted by a flash of indignation. Sergeant Fieffer had known this the whole time he was talking to me and had never let on. I wondered whether he had seen the I.J. yet.
    I read further. “May, who is in charge of the Sheriff’s detective bureau, would not comment when asked if the death was being treated as an accident, suicide or murder.” Murder. There it was. “Sheriff’s Sgt. Tom Fieffer commented that they have some key pieces of the puzzle but haven’t yet been able to assemble them.”
    I wondered what key pieces they had. Whatever they were, Feiffer wasn’t going to share them. That was clear. I thought again about Sarah’s answering machine message. I looked up from the paper. How had she described the message? Something about her money not doing her any good when she was dead. Had that message been a death threat? Had the mysterious caller carried out the threat? I looked back down. The paper went on to discuss Sarah’s illustrious career.
    “Sarah Quinn came to Marin in 1978. She established a word-processing business, Word Inc., with partner Myra Klein at that time. In 1981 Quinn left the word-processing business to start her own computer software company. This company, Quinn Unlimited, had been quite successful, according to Steve Barnard, local Chamber of Commerce leader. Most recently, Quinn had been engaged in programming domestic robots. It was one of these robots that was found in the tub with her.”
    Murder? Or, just maybe, the ultimate practical joke gone awry?
    The article concluded by listing Sarah’s civic activities: the Marin Business Exchange, the Marin Ecology Club, and Citizens for a Nuclear Free Marin. There was a picture of Sarah staring out at the camera from the Citizens for a Nuclear Free Marin campaign headquarters. It didn’t capture her spirit. Maybe that was because the picture was motionless. Sarah had always been in motion.
    I tucked the paper into my purse, bought my chili, found my car and drove slowly back home. During my drive I considered the possibilities: accident, suicide or murder. And in my mind’s eye the word “murder” was repeatedly circled in red ink. Suicide was unthinkable in respect to Sarah, and she had loved life far too much to fail to guard against accidents. Even from my dazed point of view, I could see that murder was the only reasonable answer to the question of “how” someone like Sarah could die. And I might have prevented it.
    “Why?” remained unanswered And I had a new question, “Who?”
     

 
    - Four -
     
    The “who?”