Read The Prince and I: A Romantic Mystery (The Royal Biography Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) for Free Online

— ”
    When I break off, Emmeline jumps all over the detective, asking what the meaning of all these questions are. She insists that I can’t be a suspect because, as the police have already established, I was with my editor at the time of the murder.
    “But you did find Mr. McKenzie dead? You were the first one on the scene?” Puyn asks.
    “Don’t answer that,” Emmeline spits.
    “I was. I was the first one to see him. He was just lying there, in a pool of his own blood. It was…” I cannot finish the sentence. I cannot even find the words to describe the horror of the scene.
    “And then what did you do?”
    “I screamed. I screamed and Herbert Townsend came running. He’s an accountant at Schnellings. He told me to dial 911, which I did, while poor Herbert turned Sean over and put him on the floor. He was yelling that we needed to do CPR. By then, my screaming had brought a lot of people running. There was a man at the party who rushed in and said he was a doctor. We let him through. He said Sean was dead. Still he and Herbert tired chest pumps… but there was nothing they could do…there was a hole in Sean’s face a mile wide and, oh God… there was no way anyone could survive that.”
    “Well, I think you’ve heard enough from my client for one day,” Emmeline says reproachfully and jumps to her feet.
    “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Ms. Rue, but I would like to return to my original line of questioning,” Puyn persists.
    “She did not murder Sean McKenzie.” Emmeline looms over the detective, looking quite cross.
    “Yes, but one more thing. According to your editor, Ms. Rue you and Sean McKenzie were college sweethearts, you’ve been together for seven years is that correct?”
    “Yes.”
    “And you are telling me that you were completely over him in the space of three months.”
    “Completely.”
    “Tell me, if you would, how does that happen? I’m just trying to understand how that works. The two of you were together for seven years, and then he comes home and tells you he’s leaving you for someone else, and three months later, you are completely fine with it all?” Puyn sits back in his laminate chair and crosses his arms.
    “Well,” I begin slowly, “it happened like this. My father didn’t raise a fool. He’s one of the most well-known feminists of this generation. He has taught Women’s Studies for longer than you’ve been alive, Detective Puyn. And my father told me not to put up with nonsense from anyone. In addition, Sean left me for Tatum Bouviers, or as I knew her, Tatum Ford from high school. Whatever shred of love I felt for Sean died the moment I found out he left me for someone who was once my best friend. I cut off ties with both him and Tatum. And yes, I got over it all. That night at the gallery I went to congratulate him, to offer an olive branch of sorts. To let him know that I had moved on.”
    “Well, that’s interesting, because we took a statement from a Leanne Trisk who insists she heard you screaming at Mr. McKenzie. I have it here.” Puyn shuffles his papers. “She said she heard something about you calling him a bastard and a spiny anteater or something?”
    Emmeline sits back down and glares at me.
    “I did shout something, right before I saw him.”
    “So perhaps you weren’t completely over him.” Detective Puyn smiles triumphantly.
    “If your case against my client is based on the use of the words ‘spiny anteater’ the judge will laugh the prosecution out of the court,” Emmeline states loudly and begins to study her nails, as if this is all a huge waste of time.
    “I was tired, jet-lagged and yes, I called him something of the sort. But how could I have killed him? As you know, I was with my editor at the estimated time of murder.”
    “We believe it may have been a professional hit.”
    “What?”
    “We believe someone may have been hired to kill Mr. McKenzie.”
    “What makes you think that?” Emmeline snaps.
    “Suffice it