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

“Oh, I should do that.” I followed him, carrying the broken chair back.

Adrian shoved one of the chairs from my little conversation table to my desk. “You can use this until you get a new one.” He stepped back.

“I’ll leave a note for maintenance.” I surreptitiously checked the replacement chair, giving it a rough shake to check its construction. It seemed fine. “I keep thanking you.” I chuckled, struggling to feel normal again.

“And I keep sayin’ you’re welcome.” He flashed an unsteady grin. “You’re sure you’re all right? It was a close call.”

“Yes, it was, but I’m fine now. Why would the chair have collapsed now when it’s been fine all week?”

“Beats me. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Adrian headed toward the door. “I’ll leave that cardholder report with you, then. Let me know if you have any questions.”

I glanced at the report on my desk. “Right. I want to analyze the demographics of our new cardholders to see who we’re reaching.”

“I’ll leave so you can get to it.” He looked back over his shoulder. “And to your lunch before it gets any colder.”

I returned to my desk. My poor baked ziti. Not even a few wisps of rising steam remained, but I was too hungry to care. I settled onto the sturdier—I hoped—chair and returned to my lunch. I tried to read the report Adrian had printed for me, but my mind kept straying.

The food helped me concentrate. It was hard to think on an empty stomach, and I’d need to remain focused if I was going to help campaign for a bigger library budget as well as work on clearing Jo’s name.

“You don’t have to call me every day.” Jo’s voice traveled down the phone line with exaggerated patience Wednesday evening.

“I know I don’t have to.” I balanced my elbow on my desk and kept one eye on the clock in the lower-right corner of my computer monitor. I needed to check on Phoenix before leaving for tonight’s town council meeting. “I want to. How did it go today?”

“The same as yesterday, unfortunately.” Jo’s sigh was full of frustration. “Customer traffic is still at a snail’s pace.”

“We’re only four days out from the murder. It’s probably too early to be worried.”

Jo sighed again. “My mind agrees with you, but it’s hard not to be anxious. This is my livelihood. My store provides jobs for the community. If my profits take a serious nosedive, I need to fix it fast, or a lot of people will be affected.”

My grip tightened on my cell phone as I picked up Jo’s tension. Everything she said was right and identified another reason why our inquiry was so important. The longer Jo remained under suspicion and Fiona’s murder remained unsolved, the more damage would be done to Jo, personally and professionally.

“Clearing your name so the deputies can actually solve Fiona’s murder will go a long way toward restoring normalcy in Peach Coast.” I spoke with confidence, hoping to ease some of Jo’s anxiety.

“You’re right, and I appreciate everything you and Spence are doing to help me.”

“That’s what friends are for.” I imagined Jo sitting in her office—or perhaps she was at her customer counter—smiling.

“For keeping each other out of jail? I appreciate that.” Her voice was thick with humor. “Have you had any new developments in the inquiry?”

“Unfortunately, nothing concrete, at least not yet.” I filled her in on my strange conversation with Betty and my even stranger conversation with Bobby.

“Well, a lot of people are fixated on certain routines.” Jo sounded as confused as I’d felt after speaking with Betty. “I suppose if you’re used to cleaning on Saturdays and it had become a habit, you’d assume everyone would feel the same way.”

“I’m not buying it, Jo. It sounded a little delusional to me.”

She laughed. “It does to me too.”

Having brought a smile to her day, my job was done. “Same time tomorrow?”

Jo chuckled. “You don’t have to check in with me every day.”

“But I want to.”

After wrapping up our call, I hurried home. I couldn’t be late for the council meeting. We needed everyone to show up in support of the increased budget request. This vote was too important.

I felt like a member of a family of ducklings as Viv, Floyd, Adrian, and I followed Corrinne across the town hall’s lobby after the council meeting Wednesday evening. Corrinne stopped less than an arm’s length from Mayor Byron Flowers, who was pontificating in the direction of several town council members.

The council president looked up as we arrived. The expression in the older gentleman’s watery brown eyes telegraphed he knew why we were there, even if the mayor didn’t. In fact, I had the sense he and the other council members had been expecting us.

Our head librarian straightened her shoulders. Viv, Floyd, Adrian, and I flanked her.

“Excuse the interruption, Mayor Flowers.” Corrinne’s voice was clipped to military precision. The council members used her interruption to vanish. “We were disappointed by your insistence that the council table tonight’s discussion of the library budget. May we ask why you did that?”

Byron was a tall fit man with impeccable—and ostentatious—taste. His double-breasted brown pinstriped suit probably cost as much as the library’s annual budget. His toothy grin shouted, “I want to be everybody’s friend!”

The mayor’s cerulean blue eyes glinted at my boss in barely veiled admiration. “Corrie! Seeing you always brightens my day.”

Corrie? Viv, Adrian, and I exchanged quick, questioning glances. Floyd looked like he wanted to pull up a chair and rip open a bag of popcorn.

Corrinne’s temper chilled the air around me. “Why did you table our budget discussion, Mayor Flowers? That increase is crucial to our goal of expanding our outreach and providing more services to our community.”

It was little things like Corrinne’s emphasis on the mayor’s title and name that made me think she and the town official had a history. I didn’t know her well enough to ask. Yet.

“The meeting was running a little long,