“Yes, sir,” Justin said. “Oh, I almost forgot. I did ask him about the guy and how he knew he had no talent if he wasn’t going to read the guy’s manuscript.”

“What did he say to that?” As big a bestseller as Godfrey was, aspiring writers who wanted his help probably approached him all the time. Knowing Godfrey, he probably wasn’t that gracious about it, either.

“He said he’d known this guy a long time, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Justin pushed a couple of beans around on his plate with his fork. “You don’t think somebody like that would get mad enough to kill him, do you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It depends on how desperate the man was. And how stable. Someone with mental health problems might respond violently to being thwarted.”

“That’s pretty freaky,” Justin said. He set his fork aside.

“Yes,” I said. There was something odd about that second conversation. “Which phone did Godfrey talk on? The hotel phone or his cell phone?”

“His cell phone,” Justin said.

“For both calls?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why would Godfrey give his cell phone number to someone he described as a pest?” That was what was bothering me about the second call. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

“You’re right,” Justin said. “It doesn’t. He talked to me about his writing and stuff, and he said once his books started selling really well, he had people coming out of the woodwork all the time. He had his own security guards at his house in California to keep the crazies away from him.” Justin turned a bit pink again, and I figured Godfrey had used a much coarser term than crazies.

“I’m not surprised. I’ve seen it happen before when really big-name authors have signed at the bookstore here in town. I remember one woman who held up the signing line to tell the author in detail about the book she had written. It was sure to be a bestseller, if only she could get someone to read it—according to her. The author politely—and tactfully—declined, but the store staff had to intercede to get the woman out of the line. Even then, she hung around waiting to accost the author again. The staff finally had to eject her. It was embarrassing for everybody.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Justin said. His mouth twisted in obvious distaste. “But how would they find the person he was talking to?”

“They probably could get a record of his calls and trace the number that way,” I said. “Of course, we have no idea where the person was calling from. There’s no reason to think he was here in Athena.”

“That’s true,” Justin said.

“You told all of this—everything you told me just now—to Deputy Berry?” I wanted to be sure.