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

The narrow, three-shelf faux oak bookcase beside the conversation table to my right held marketing and fundraising reference books, and project binders. The bookends cast as Patience and Fortitude, the marble lions that flanked the entrance to the New York Public Library, had been a going-away gift from my former coworkers.

On my desk within easy reach, in addition to my nearly empty inbox, were a dictionary, thesaurus, and The Chicago Manual of Style. Several photos of my family lined the shelf above my computer monitor.

Cecelia’s attention returned to me. “What a lovely pendant. I’ve heard about them.”

“Thank you.” I touched the pendant, reminding myself that today’s image was The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. Like most books, the classic novel had a different cover for each reprint. I’d chosen the one with the illustration of a young woman and an older woman, standing with their backs to the reader, their arms around each other’s waist. “Spence suggested I teach people how to make these pendants. I think that workshop would be a nice fundraiser for the library.”

Cecelia folded her hands on her lap and squared her shoulders. “The library is very important to me.”

Those words warmed my heart, especially coming from a board member. “To me as well.”

She flashed a quick smile. “My position on the board allows me to ensure we have diverse stories written by diverse authors, featuring diverse characters. I can make sure the library shows its value to all the demographics in our community—young, old, men, women, well-off, and struggling.”

“Those things are important to me as well.”

Cecelia gave me a level look. “Then you’ll understand when I ask that, for the good of the library, stick to promoting it and its services. Let the deputies investigate poor Fiona Lyle-Hayes’s murder.”

I probably should’ve seen that coming. But despite my own words of caution, Cecelia had caught me off guard. How should I respond to the board member? Then I remembered what Corrinne had said when I’d asked why she’d defended me to the mayor. Her words gave me the encouragement I needed to oppose the board member.

“Ms. Holt, I’m not working against the deputies.” I stacked my hands before me on the cool surface of my desk. “In fact, the deputies and I are working toward the same thing: serving the community. I’m also helping a friend in need.”

“Don’t you think your investigation is sending the community the wrong message?” Cecelia swept her right arm as though encompassing the library. “I think it’s distracting from the library’s mission to support literacy and literature.”

Her question made me smile. “The library’s a place that promotes intellectual curiosity. Books inspire people to learn, to seek the truth, to verify information instead of simply accepting what we’re told. I want to be an example of that.”

I remained still, giving Cecelia time to digest my words. It seemed she started to argue the point before settling back to consider it.

The silence stretched for a slow minute, and then understanding brightened her dark eyes. “All right, Marvey. You raise a good point.” The other woman nodded as her gaze once again swept my office. “I hadn’t thought of the library in quite that way.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Another challenge won. I hoped to clear Jo’s name before other board members decided to pay me a visit.

Chapter 26

To Be Read was hopping. The bookstore had always seemed busy, especially Friday afternoons. It wasn’t quite that busy this Friday afternoon, but it was close. During the six days since Fiona’s murder, it was understandable customer traffic would’ve dropped drastically. But people were slowly coming back. Slowly.

Following the aroma of flavored coffee and fresh pastries, I turned toward the little café to the left of the store’s entrance. The café was usually standing-room only for lunch in the modest seating area. Today, there were only a few readers/diners and plenty of empty chairs.

I found Jo and Spence near the customer service desk. The concern on Jo’s face drove a knife through my heart.

“People are still coming to terms with Ms. Fiona’s death.” Spence was talking as I joined them. “It hasn’t even been a week yet.”

“It’ll be a week tomorrow.” Jo waved a hand in an agitated gesture. “In the meantime, this is a disaster. A right disaster. My poor store has become a paranormal attraction. People have actually asked me if I’ve seen Fiona’s ghost ‘yet,’ as though they expect it to turn up sooner or later. Can you believe that?”

I winced. “That’s a little creepy.”

Jo shook her head, setting her thick ponytail spinning behind her shoulders. “Sales are way down because people who don’t want to see a ghost are staying home, and they far outnumber those who do. Some of those people may never come back.”

I exchanged a concerned look with Spence, who stood on her other side. “What about your online orders?”

“Those have gone up a bit.” She expelled a heavy sigh. “On the bright side, several people have told me they don’t believe I killed Fiona. So that’s good news. Now if we could just convince the deputies.”

“We’re working on it.” I gave her shoulder a squeeze before letting my hand drop to my side.

“That’s right.” Spence’s tone was bracing. “We’re not giving up. You can’t, either.”

“It still upsets me to think that someone was murdered in my store.” Jo crossed her arms over her Gator green shirt. Her voice was a whisper. “How can friends, neighbors, employees—customers—ever feel safe here again?”

“Of course they will.” And clearing her name would help. The sooner, the better.

The arrival of our lunch order afforded us a brief diversion. Earlier, Jo had taken our soup and salad requests so we could share lunch and catch up on our investigation in the privacy of her office.

“What do we owe you?” I dug through sales receipts and coffee shop napkins to find my wallet. Once again, it crossed my mind I should clean out my purse.

“It’s my treat.” Jo paid