Murder by Page One by Olivia Matthews (read aloud txt) 📗

helpful to their investigation to have the insights of someone who knew Fiona well and cared about her.”

“People who cared about her are definitely in short supply around here. That’s one of the reasons I’m making arrangements to have Fiona’s body sent back to Beaufort. I think she would’ve wanted to be laid to rest with family.”

I blinked. “Wouldn’t Fiona want to be buried beside Buddy? He was her family.”

Willy’s features tightened. Storm clouds gathered in his piercing gray eyes. “Was he? He surely didn’t act like it.”

“Because he didn’t defend her against Betty’s malicious gossip, you mean?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Anger flashed in his eyes like bolts of lightning.

“Then why didn’t Fiona leave him?”

“She should have.”

“But why didn’t she? Didn’t it bother her that someone she loved and who claimed to love her wasn’t defending her?” It would bother me.

Willy shrugged listlessly. Even from across the table, I could feel his tension. “Fiona didn’t know why Hayes wasn’t defending her. Maybe he was afraid. Apparently, Betty has a temper.”

I’d seen that firsthand. “What about Bobby? Couldn’t Buddy get his son to stop gossiping about Fiona?”

Willy spread his hands. “All I know is Fiona was upset about Betty and Bobby lying on her, and Buddy not doing anything to stop them.”

I couldn’t imagine the husband who wouldn’t do anything to defend his wife—or the wife who’d stay with a husband like that. “Did Fiona ever confront Betty or Bobby herself?”

“Yes, and I was proud of her for it. Fiona didn’t like confrontations. But whatever she said didn’t work, did it? Betty and Bobby continued to lie on her until the day she died.”

“It sounds as though you think the deputies should be investigating Betty and Bobby.”

“I’m letting the deputies handle their own investigation. I’m sure they’ll find her killer—or killers.”

I didn’t share Willy’s confidence. I took another drink from my mocha, inhaling the scent of chocolate and caffeine. The extra espresso helped.

Willy drained his coffee mug. The caffeine didn’t seem to have given him any extra energy. “Are you going to ask me about my argument with Bobby? I’m sure you noticed it.”

“Now that you mention it, I am curious.” My smile was unrepentant.

Willy moved his shoulders restlessly. “Bobby was trying to pressure me into giving him the details of Fiona’s will.”

I frowned. “How would you know about it? Are you licensed to practice law in Georgia?”

Willy shook his head. “Fiona had asked for my advice when she’d updated her will after her marriage to Buddy. After Buddy died, Bobby had been angling to be her sole beneficiary. He really wanted to get his hands on the property Fiona had inherited from her uncle.”

Something else occurred to me. “Since Fiona didn’t have any heirs, who are her beneficiaries?”

Willy gave me a regretful look. “I’m not comfortable discussing her personal affairs with a stranger. But I can tell you she said she was leaving her uncle’s property to me.”

I sat back on my chair. “You must’ve been a very good friend.”

This new information added another question to my growing list—did Fiona’s generous bequest to Willy give him a motive to commit murder? Or did it give someone else another potential victim?

“You won’t get away with it.” Delores Polly confronted me as I was leaving On A Roll Wednesday morning.

Had she been waiting for me? I looked over my shoulder. Through the coffee shop’s glass façade, I could see Willy seated at the table I’d just left. Delores was a few inches taller than me, which meant she had an even better vantage point. Had she been watching us? That was disconcerting. But then, Delores was the one who’d misrepresented my investigation to Betty.

Bracing myself, I faced the older woman. “Good morning, Delores. What won’t I get away with?”

She narrowed her angry gray gaze. “Blaming innocent people for Fiona’s murder in order to protect your friend.”

I caught my breath. “That’s not what I’m doing. And you’re not the expert lip reader you claim to be. The information you gave Betty about what I supposedly said was wrong.”

Under different circumstances, Delores and I could be friends. She played the church’s piano beautifully for the Saturday evening choir. She was a regular library customer, picking up and dropping off books during her lunch hour every other Monday like clockwork. And judging by the tabby hairs on her beige-and-white patterned cap-sleeved blouse, she loved cats. But it was what it was.

“You’re going around town saying poor Betty and Bobby killed Fiona. Don’t you care that you’re tearing this town apart?” Delores spoke in a stage whisper. She was making an effort not to draw the attention of the few pedestrians near us.

Amazing. Today was the start of only the fourth day of our investigation, and already Delores has me destroying the community. “Since we’re discussing Fiona’s murder and unfounded accusations, what makes you so certain Jo’s guilty?”

Delores straightened her shoulders. She tried to look down her nose, but she wasn’t that much taller than me. “The deputies are investigating her, aren’t they?”

A hot bullet of overprotectiveness shot through me. “The deputies don’t have any evidence that Jo’s done anything. She’s innocent until proven guilty. In fact, you’re the one who’s smearing the good reputation of an innocent person, not me.”

Delores gaped at me like a fish out of water. “You should let the deputies do their job instead of going around town trying to dig up dirt on people.”

“Don’t you want justice, Delores?”

She sniffed as though I’d offended her. “That’s what the sheriff’s department is for. You’re not investigating anything. What you’re doing is a character assassination.”

I searched my mind for the right words to change hers. “I understand a lot of people didn’t like Fiona—”

“That’s an understatement.” Her tone was as dry as dust.

“Perhaps there were valid reasons for that, but Fiona still deserves justice.” I paused, searching Delores’s stubborn expression. “We need to consider every conceivable possibility, not just narrow our focus to one person or even two people. I