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

on her desk. “There was never a cross word between them, at least not in front of me.”

“Thank you, Lisa May.” I met her eyes with somber sincerity. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Her eyes clouded over. “Thank you, Marvella. I appreciate the kindness.”

Spence gestured for me to precede him up the dark hardwood staircase. It creaked comfortably under our weight. The wood bannister was smooth beneath my palm.

Lisa May had stated Fiona and Nolan had never exchanged a cross word in front of her. That didn’t mean they hadn’t had cross words when she wasn’t around. Everyone argued, though. It was human nature. No two people agreed all the time. That didn’t mean everyone was a killer. Besides, Spence vouched for Nolan’s character. I shot a glance at Spence behind me. I had a hard time believing anyone he’d consider a friend could be a killer.

I crested the staircase and found Nolan waiting for us outside one of the offices near the end of the hall.

“Spence!” A grin split his warm brown face. His close-cropped dark brown hair shone under the hallway’s florescent lighting. His conservative white dress shirt, blue-and-red striped tie, and navy pants were a far cry from the jeans and jersey he’d worn to the signing.

“Nolan!”

I stood back while the two men exchanged man-hugs and preliminary greetings. There was no denying the affection between the two.

Nolan turned to me. His brown eyes were warm but tired. “Marvey, it’s nice to see you again.”

I returned his smile. “Thank you very much for agreeing to meet with us, Nolan. You must be very busy. I appreciate your time.”

“It’s not a problem.” He stepped back, gesturing us into his office.

The contrast between the interior decorating downstairs and Nolan’s office was so stark I almost stumbled across the doorway. The furniture in Nolan’s room was shockingly modern and impersonal, considering the homey décor in the firm’s reception area. Downstairs, everything was warm woods, patterned fabrics, and cushioning. In here, there was only silver metal, clear glass, and black vinyl. In a past life, the space must’ve been a bedroom. The office supply closet to the right probably had been a walk-in closet. The windows across the room offered a view of the front of the house. They were bare, flooding the space with natural light.

Spence waited for me to settle onto one of the two metal and vinyl guest chairs in front of Nolan’s tan modular desk before taking the one closest to the door.

Nolan claimed his black padded executive chair and rolled it under his desk. “How’re y’all getting along?” He directed his question to Spence and me.

Here we go. I suppressed a sigh. “We’re fine. Thank you, Nolan.”

“Everything’s fine.” Spence braced his right ankle on his left knee. “But more importantly, how’re you?”

Nolan settled back against his chair with a sigh. “Busy. There’s a lot involved in transitioning Fiona’s accounts. Thankfully, her clients want to remain with the firm, but I’m going to have to bring in another CPA to help with the workload.”

“Of course.” Quick glimpses around his office didn’t reveal any personal insights about Nolan the man. His office was all business, from the publications and binders packed into his black metal bookcase to the community plaques and commendations displayed on his stark white walls. “Did the two of you have a survivorship agreement?”

Nolan gave me a cautious look. “Yes, it’s simply a sound business practice. That way, the surviving partner can take over the business without having to negotiate with the other partner’s family or with the courts.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” I looked at Spence before continuing. “I understand you and Fiona worked well together. I hate to intrude on this very sad and stressful time, but the deputies suspect a dear friend, Jo Gomez, of Fiona’s murder. I know Jo couldn’t have killed her.”

Nolan frowned. “I’d heard the deputies were investigating Jo in connection with Fiona’s murder. That doesn’t make any sense to me. I’m pretty sure Fiona didn’t know her. I’d never heard Fiona mention her until she started planning her book event, so I can’t imagine Jo killing her, either.”

I took a quick breath in relief and thought I’d inhaled a trace of peppermint. My gaze dropped to the brown porcelain mug on Nolan’s desk. Was he drinking peppermint tea? “Did you mention that to Deputy Whatley or Deputy Cole?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Nolan nodded. “They came to my office the other day with some follow-up questions for their investigation. They asked if I knew whether there were any tensions between Fiona and Jo. I told them what I just told you—Fiona barely knew Jo.”

I gave him a grateful smile. At least the deputies were asking questions about their theory of Jo as the killer. How long would it take them to accept they didn’t have any evidence to support it? “Was Fiona having problems with anyone?”

Nolan shook his head. He dropped his gaze to his desk and the stacks of papers piled neatly across its surface. “I can’t think of anyone who’d want to kill her. I’m sure you’ve heard about the troubles she’d had with Betty Rodgers-Hayes and Bobby Hayes. But they’d been causing Fiona problems for years. Why would they suddenly up and kill her?”

The point could be made that was exactly what a crime of passion was. It wasn’t a planned event. It was sudden, unexpected, and emotional.

Spence gestured toward the other man. “We were hoping you could give us some insights into Fiona so we could understand her better.”

“Fiona and I weren’t friends, but I liked her.” Nolan shifted on his chair. “She was a considerate person and a good business partner.”

He was holding back. I didn’t want to think that. Nolan was Spence’s good friend and he seemed like a nice person, but he was definitely sending out I-have-a-secret signals. Why? What didn’t he want us to know? More importantly, how could I get him to open up? “What made you