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

hats and settled onto the seats. Errol’s body language was tentative. Something appeared to be troubling him. Jed’s movements were tight, as though he was irritated. Irritation seemed to be his default mood.

“Ms. Marvey.” Jed’s opening was delivered on a long-suffering sigh. “Perhaps you could clear up a misunderstanding for us.”

I spread my hands. “I’m happy to help if I can, deputy.”

“Alright, then. I appreciate that.” Jed glanced at Errol before continuing. “Ms. Betty came to see us the other day. It seems she thinks you’re still investigating Ms. Fiona Lyle-Hayes’s murder. Now, that just can’t be true. Could it, Ms. Marvey? Because Deputy Cole and I, we remember specifically asking you not to investigate.”

From Jed’s line of questioning, I understood Errol’s tentative motions. He’d recognized before I had that we were in the company of a gathering storm. “Of course it couldn’t be true, Deputy Whatley. How could I investigate anything? I don’t have a forensics team. I can’t issue warrants. All I can do is ask a few questions. There’s nothing wrong with my asking questions, is there, deputy?”

If anything, Jed’s frown darkened. I thought I detected a muscle twitching beneath his left eye. “Ms. Marvey, your questions are interfering with our investigation.”

“Really?” My attention shifted to Errol. The junior deputy looked uncomfortable. I felt sorry for the guy, but I turned back to Jed. “How?”

Jed sputtered for a moment or two before his thoughts seemed to gain traction. “Leave the investigation to me—us.” He jerked his campaign hat toward Errol. “Stick to your role with the library. Don’t worry about asking questions. That’s our job.”

Since I didn’t like the point he was making, I chose to misunderstand it. “I’m not worried about asking questions. ‘The greatest gift is not being afraid to question.’ Ruby Dee said that. She was a renaissance woman—civil rights activist, actress, playwright, screenwriter, poet, journalist. Did you know that?”

Errol’s eyes widened. “No, I didn’t know she did all those things. I knew she was an actress. She was from Cleveland, Ohio, wasn’t she?”

“Yes, she was.” I nodded approvingly, and smiled when Errol seemed to preen. “I also like Eugene Ionesco’s quote, ‘It is not the answer that enlightens, but the question.’ He was a French playwright of Romanian descent.”

Errol’s brow creased. “I don’t know him.”

I leaned toward the deputy and gave him a considering look. “Do you have a library card, Deputy Cole?”

His eyes widened. “Why, yes, ma’am. I haven’t borrowed any books in a while, but—”

“Could we get back to the investigation?” Jed’s delivery was terse.

I made a mental note to find a time to continue my side discussion with Errol. Something told me with very little encouragement, the young deputy could become a voracious reader and an enthusiastic library champion. “Yes, of course, Deputy Whatley. I’m happy to. Has Willy Pelt spoken with you?”

Jed’s expression grew more frustrated. He waved his arms with exasperation. “About what?”

I split my attention between the two men. “This morning, Willy told me someone tried to run him over last night as he returned from a restaurant near his hotel.”

Jed exchanged a look with Errol. The younger deputy shook his head as though to confirm Willy hadn’t reported this incident to him, either.

Errol turned to me. “Was he hurt?”

“Fortunately, no.” I sat back against my chair. “He said he was able to jump out of the way in time, but the event left him badly shaken. He’s convinced the driver was intent on harming him. His exact words were, ‘Someone tried to kill me last night.’”

Jed scowled. “Then why didn’t he report it?”

I spread my hands. “I agree he should file a report with you, but he said he doesn’t want to prolong his stay in Peach Coast.”

Jed gave me an impatient look. “There’s nothing tying Mr. Pelt’s event to Ms. Fiona’s murder.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t say there was. I just thought you should know about the incident.”

“Thanks.” Jed’s gratitude was grudging.

I continued. “However, since you haven’t spoken with Willy about his encounter, how can you know whether what happened to him is or isn’t somehow related to Fiona’s murder?”

Jed shrugged. “Why would the person who killed Ms. Fiona want to kill Willy? What’s the connection?”

“I don’t know. You should ask him,” I answered without inflection. “Willy said the car that tried to mow him down in the parking lot was a dark compact sedan. Jo drives a bright orange hatchback. What do Betty and Bobby drive?”

Errol turned to Jed. “Don’t they drive dark sedans, J.W.?”

A light shifted in Jed’s eyes as though he’d also drawn the link. “Plenty of people in town have dark cars.”

I once again seized on his statement. “Not Jo.”

Jed scowled. “You keep making leaps like these two events are connected.”

“And you refuse to consider they could be.” Note to self: Replenish supply of chocolate-covered peanuts. “Maybe you could at least ask Betty and Bobby whether they’d been driving their dark sedans around town last night.”

“If Pelt didn’t think the incident was important enough to report, why should I?” Jed stood as though to leave. Errol and I rose with him.

I braced my hands on my desk. “Because you’re a Peach Coast deputy. Long after Willy leaves, you’ll still be responsible for protecting this town. That’s why you should consider Willy’s near-death experience important.”

Errol turned to his partner. “She has a point, J.W.”

I shifted my gaze to Jed. “Willy’s anxious to return to his practice, so you may want to speak with him sooner rather than later.”

Jed arched an eyebrow. “I suppose you’re expecting us to tell you what he says?”

“No, Deputy Whatley, I’m not expecting that.” I smiled. “But it would be nice.”

After chocolate-covered peanuts, a hot, strong cup of coffee was my second favorite go-to comfort food. Corrinne was already in the break room when I arrived after my encounter with the deputies late Thursday morning. Our offices were next to each other, but it was the first time I’d seen her that day.

I propped myself