Other Books in the Murder, She Wrote Series Manhattans & Murder Rum & Razors Brandy & Bullets Martinis & Mayhem A Deadly Judgment A Palette for Murder The Highland Fling Murders Murder on the QE2 Murder in Moscow A Little Yuletide Murder Murder at the Powderhorn Ranch Knock ’Em Dead Gin & Daggers Trick or Treachery Blood on the Vine Murder in a Minor Key Provence—To Die For You Bet Your Life Majoring in Murder Dying to Retire Destination Murder The Maine Mutiny A Vote for Murder A Question of Murder Margaritas & Murder Coffee, Tea, or Murder? Three Strikes and You’re Dead Panning for Murder Murder on Parade A Slaying in Savannah Madison Avenue Shoot A Fatal Feast Nashville Noir The Queen’s Jewels Skating on Thin Ice The Fine Art of Murder Trouble at High Tide Domestic Malice Prescription for Murder Close-up on Murder Aloha Betrayed Death of a Blue Blood Killer in the Kitchen The Ghost and Mrs. Fletcher Design for Murder Hook, Line, and Murder A Date with Murder Manuscript for Murder Murder in Red A Time for Murder The Murder of Twelve Murder in Season BERKLEY PRIME CRIME Published by Berkley An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC penguinrandomhouse.com Copyright © 2021 by Universal City Studios LLC Murder, She Wrote is a trademark and copyright of Universal Studios. All rights reserved. Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader. BERKLEY and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks and BERKLEY PRIME CRIME is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Fletcher, Jessica, author. | Moran, Terrie Farley, author. Title: Killing in a koi pond / a novel by Jessica Fletcher & Terrie Farley Moran. Description: New York : Berkley Prime Crime, [2021] | Series: Murder, She Wrote | “Based on the Universal television series created by Peter S. Fischer, Richard Levinson & William Link.” Identifiers: LCCN 2021001096 (print) | LCCN 2021001097 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593333594 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593333600 (ebook) Subjects: GSAFD: Mystery fiction. Classification: LCC PS3552.A376 K56 2021 (print) | LCC PS3552.A376 (ebook) | DDC 813/.54--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021001096 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021001097 Cover images courtesy of Shutterstock Design adapted for ebook by Kelly Brennan This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. pid_prh_5.7.0_c0_r0 In memory of my father, Thomas M. Farley, who never met a book he didn’t want to read Contents Cover Books in the Murder, She Wrote Series Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight Chapter Twenty-nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-one About the Authors Chapter One As I carefully made my way down the steps from the business class car at the rear of the Amtrak train, Dolores Nickens stood on the station platform waving both arms, her gold bracelets flashing in the bright South Carolina sun. The instant I stepped onto the platform she grabbed me in a crushing hug. I’m sure she pressed out a few of the wrinkles my tan linen suit had collected on the long ride south from Washington, DC. “Jessica Fletcher! It’s been far too long.” She held me at arm’s length and eyed me critically from the top of my head to the soles of my beige pumps. “My goodness, you never age!” When Dolores started to lean in again, I took two quick steps backward to save myself from another colossal squeeze and said, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have missed your wedding. By the time I received my invitation, my nephew Grady had already asked me to babysit while he and Donna went on an anniversary cruise, although their son, Frank, objects strenuously to the term ‘babysitting.’ He claims to be quite grown up.” “Ah, the young ones—if only they knew how fast the years go.” Dolores tucked her hand into the crook of my arm. “He’s like the proverbial weed, already as tall as my shoulder. Anyway, no matter what his parents call it, he and I have agreed that my official title is ‘the adult in the house’ whenever Grady and Donna are away.” Dolores laughed. “That’s so like you. Always quick with a diplomatic solution. Do you remember sophomore year when I roomed with Lila Huggins, that redhead who always just knew she would be a famous artist one day? When she announced she’d decided to paint a jungle mural complete with lush green trees and assorted wild animals on every wall in our tiny room, you, my dear Jess, saved the day and probably prevented me from lifelong recurring nightmares of cheetahs and panthers and what all.” “I merely told her that since she was going to be so famous in a few short years, she surely didn’t want to waste her time and effort painting murals since they aren’t portable. How could she leave her masterpieces behind once we graduated? I suggested that she paint her vision of the jungle on those superlarge canvases that were stored in the basement of the arts building. When fame hit she could have them shipped to galleries anywhere in the world.” “And three months later she changed her major from fine arts to psychology. Today she is a well-known Hollywood shrink, appearing on television talk shows all the time. Who knew?” Dolores chuckled. A porter carried my luggage off the train and, without missing a beat in her nonstop reminiscences, Dolores led us to the parking lot. She stopped in front of a snazzy red convertible and swept her arm across the hood. “Voilà! A Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet. What do you think?” I hadn’t seen many like it. “Very fancy.” “A gift from Willis. I can’t wait for you to meet my
