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

the room. He gave me an impassive nod of greeting, then proceeded to stalk the study’s perimeter. Was he pacing out the space to decide whether to claim this room as his own?

“You look fabulous, Phoenix.” I spun my black ergonomic desk chair to track his progress around the study. “Not a hair out of place.”

I turned back to my computer. The article had finished uploading. Its headline read, “A Whirlwind Romance in Beaufort.” The article’s dateline was Beaufort, South Carolina. It ran a little more than two years ago. I was intrigued. It would be fair to refer to Fiona’s marriage to Buddy Hayes as a whirlwind romance. She and Buddy had married six months after his divorce from Betty.

“Okay, Fiona, whose heart had you broken?” I used the touchpad to scroll down the screen. Slowly, a small photo came into view between the headline and the story.

My hand froze.

The image showed a tall, slender woman in her late-thirties/early forties. She posed in a rose, knee-length, center-fold sheath dress she’d accessorized with pearl jewelry. Waves of honey-blond hair framed her strong porcelain features. Her green eyes were serious as they returned the camera’s stare. Fiona. She didn’t look like someone in a whirlwind romance in Beaufort or anywhere else. She seemed like someone announcing a business deal.

But it was the man beside her who’d caused my mind to stutter and my hand to stiffen above my keyboard. I recognized that tall, lanky man with the piercing gray eyes and shock of red hair.

“Willy hadn’t been Fiona’s friend. He’d been her fiancé. And she’d dumped him. To marry Buddy.” I swung my chair to face Phoenix again. “Question—how had he handled their breakup?”

Chapter 30

“Fiona had dumped Willy to marry Buddy?” Jo sounded scandalized. I’d called her Monday evening, right after discussing this latest development with Phoenix. “It must’ve been love at first sight. I wonder how she broke the news to Willy?”

I shook my head at the tangent Jo had taken. I needed to keep her focused on Fiona’s murder rather than the deceased woman’s romantic entanglements. “I don’t think we’ve given Willy as much attention as we should’ve during our inquiry.”

“But I thought we’d agreed he wouldn’t have driven all the way from Beaufort just to kill Fiona.” Jo’s voice kept raising and dropping in volume as though she’d left her cell phone on a table as she wondered around a room. Did she have me on speaker phone?

“It’s a distance.” I made the concession reluctantly. “It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive. Willy said he’d made the trip in less than two hours, though. And if he could make the trip in less than two hours, don’t you think it’s strange he’s never visited Fiona before?”

Jo hesitated as though considering my question. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that.”

I rose from my desk. “Remember the morning we went to retrieve Bobby’s trash?”

“You mean the day we went dumpster diving before dawn? Yes. What about it?”

I rolled my eyes at my friend’s dramatics. “Stella Lowry was going to drive five hours to Tampa to cheer up a friend. Willy knew Betty was giving Fiona a hard time, but he never came to visit, even though he’s less than two hours away. Isn’t that strange? Neither did he come to comfort his friend while she was grieving her husband’s death. Also strange.”

“But still, to drive all that way just to kill someone?” Jo’s voice drew closer to her phone. She definitely had me on speaker. “Wouldn’t his temper have cooled off by the time he arrived in Peach Coast?”

“But Willy hadn’t come to Peach Coast to kill Fiona. He’d come because of her book signing. Or at least that’s what he said.” Holding my phone with my left hand, I collected Phoenix with my right and returned to my living room downstairs. “Remember the coroner said the description of the scene fits a crime of passion. The killer probably hadn’t planned to kill Fiona.”

Jo was silent for several long seconds. As I gave her time to draw her own conclusions, I fiddled with my book pendant and paced my living room.

Finally, Jo came to a decision. “All right, let’s say we investigate Willy. He’s leaving tomorrow. That doesn’t give us much time. Where do we even start? There’s no way he’s keeping the murder weapon or his incriminating clothes in that hotel room.”

“You’re right. Housekeeping would’ve stumbled across them by now.”

Jo gasped. “We’re not going to go dumpster-diving in the hotel’s trash, are we? I thought Bobby’s trash was bad. I can only imagine the hotel’s would be a million times worse.”

I could hear her gag reflex over the phone. “Willy wouldn’t have put such incriminating evidence in the hotel’s dumpster. They would’ve been discovered.”

She breathed a gusty sigh of relief. “Okay, so if not his hotel room or the hotel’s trash, where do you think we should search for the box cutter and Willy’s bloody clothes?”

“Fiona’s uncle’s property.”

Although seemingly not as enthusiastic over my response as I was, Jo at least sounded like she was considering the possibility. “What makes you think that?”

“I’m glad you asked.” I allowed my pacing to carry me out of the living room and around the dining room table. Certainty flowed through me like a superpower. “First, Willy seems familiar with the property.”

“And second?”

“He lied about Fiona leaving the property to him in her will.”

“How do you know that?” Jo’s question and tone were cautious, but I could sense my argument winning her over.

“I strongly suspect it, because Grant Gillis drew up Fiona’s will.” I stopped pacing, standing still in the space between the living and dining rooms. “Spence and I spoke with him this evening. When I asked him about Willy Pelt, he didn’t recognize Willy’s name. Surely, if you’d recently written a will that named Willy Pelt as a beneficiary, you would’ve recognized his name.”

“Let’s do it.”

“I’ll pick you up, but first, I need to make a call.”

“Dumpster diving. Breaking