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

truck was on its way. “We usually jog through different neighborhoods. Excuse—”

Jo interrupted me. “Ma’am, I wonder if I could trouble you for a glass of water? I’m afraid I didn’t drink enough before my friend and I met for our run, and my throat’s awfully dry.”

“Yes, of course, dear.” Our companion looked concerned as she turned to me. “Would you like some water too?”

I inclined my head, sending Jo an approving look. “I’m not thirsty, ma’am, but thank you. I should keep going. I want to get my miles in before work.”

Bobby’s neighbor made certain I wasn’t thirsty before she led Jo into her home. I turned to jog past Bobby’s house, biding my time until Jo and her hostess were behind closed doors. Jo’s ability to read my silent message impressed me. She was a good friend.

As I jogged away, Jo’s voice carried across to me. “Ma’am, do you have a library card?”

Correction: Jo was a great friend.

Chapter 25

“We didn’t find the bloody clothes or knife in Bobby’s trash.” Speaking with Spence almost an hour later, I was still weighed down by disappointment. “There was nothing incriminating in any of the bags.”

I’d texted him earlier to let him know Jo and I had accomplished our mission, but that I’d have to fill him in later. I’d been anxious to go through the two bags before getting ready for work. I hadn’t wanted to be late.

“Nothing at all?” Spence’s concern worked its way through the cell connection.

“Just a bunch of trash. Bobby recently changed the oil in his car. I found an oil filter, a couple of containers of five-W-thirty, and a lot of oily rags.”

Spence paused before continuing. “What did you do with his trash?”

“I put the bags in my trash can.” I rolled my chair closer to my desk. Maintenance had repaired it—and gotten rid of the squeak. “The sanitation engineers will probably think I’d hosted a party over the weekend with all the bags of barbecue potato chips and soda.”

“You mean Coke.”

I heard the humor in Spence’s voice. I chuckled. “No, I mean soda.”

“When in Rome…” He sobered. “How’s Jo?”

The disappointment in her eyes would stay with me the rest of the day. “She’s pretty upset, but working hard not to show it.” I massaged the knot tightening at the nape of my neck. “Until this morning, I don’t think either of us realized how much we were hoping we’d find something in Bobby’s trash, irrefutable proof of Jo’s innocence that would finally—finally—convince the deputies to take her off their suspect list.”

Spence paused again. I imagined him seated behind his faux ash wood modular desk in his spacious, bright newspaper office. “If Bobby’s the killer, it’s possible he got rid of the evidence earlier or some other way.”

I remembered him raising that possibility last night. “I can’t think of anywhere else to look. For all we know, he’s burned his bloody clothes and buried the knife.”

Silence settled over the phone as I tried to puzzle out our next steps. Who to investigate? What questions to ask? How best to convince the deputies their stubborn refusal to look at any other suspect was enabling a murderer to walk free? It had been almost a week since Fiona’s murder; six days since Jo, Spence, and I began our inquiry.

“It’s also possible Bobby isn’t the killer.” Spence voiced the suggestion I didn’t want to hear.

“But his motive is stronger than Jo’s, and I’m sure he’s behind the threats I’ve received.” I waved my hand toward my office door. “He was here at the library the day my chair collapsed. He’s a repair person, which means tampering with my chair would’ve been quick and easy for him. He drives a dark sedan like the one that tried to kill me and Willy. And he likes snakes, especially those similar to the one that tried to drive away in my car.”

“Those are great points, and I’m not discounting them.” His calm response had a relaxing effect on me.

“I know you’re not.” I glanced at my lower left-hand desk drawer. I once again reminded myself to bring in a stash of chocolate-covered peanuts. “But I’m not ready to give up on the idea of Bobby as our prime suspect.”

“Remember his motive only works if Fiona spent his inheritance.”

I closed my eyes briefly. Spence had another good point. “You’re right. How can we verify that?”

“Change of plans.” Disappointment and frustration mingled in my brother’s voice when he called Friday morning.

“What’s up?” I saved my computer file and gave him my full attention.

“We need to move up the time for Operation Anniversary Surprise. Can you do a morning call?” Dre’s voice was almost overpowered by the cacophony of conversations in the background.

A glance at the clock in the lower-right corner of my computer screen revealed it was almost ten minutes before nine AM, class change at John Jay College of Criminal Justice where Dre taught Forensic Accounting. “Of course. I’m free tomorrow morning. Why? What’s going on?”

“Mom and Dad are going to see a play with the Carlisles.” The voices were getting closer to Dre. His classroom must be filling up.

Steve and Ruby Carlisle had been my parents’ best friends since college. The two couples had met at the University of Syracuse and had been double dating ever since. The Carlisles had just celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary.

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” I smiled, leaning back on my chair.

Dre chuckled. “It’s a musical. Dad and Steve are putting a brave face on it. They’re going into the city. They have tickets to an afternoon show, so instead of dinner, we’re doing breakfast. Do you think we can connect at nine?”

“Nine would be perfect.” I had no other plans. “I’ll decorate my dining room tonight. Consider it the satellite celebration location. It’ll make me feel more like I’m there with you.”

Dre laughed. “They’ll get a kick out of that.”

I laughed too, knowing Dre was right. My parents would love that. “Their