Davis buried his head in his hands. “What the heck? Was Betty in love with Doc? Is that why he’s giving her the inn?”
“I don’t think so. I just found out Doc was having an affair with Margaret Gray. Why wouldn’t he leave the inn to her? No, Doc must have decided to leave the inn to Betty for another reason. Something we don’t understand yet. But don’t you see? Betty wrote about an inn very much like Doc’s and the book was found on his body.”
“Someone has to be framing her,” the sheriff put in, stroking his moustache. “Why would she kill Doc and tie herself to the murder by putting a book she wrote on him?”
Deirdre shrugged. “No one knows she writes those books. They’re published under a pen name. She’s smart, I’ve always known that. And cold, even calculating. We need to question her.”
The sheriff raised a finger. “I need to question her. I thank you for your help, Dee, but I can take it from here.”
Chapter 11
I can take it from here. Deirdre mulled over the sheriff’s last words furiously as she sat at her desk that afternoon. She tried to finish her much-neglected grant applications, send an email to their webmaster to make tweaks to the website and plan the next monthly newsletter. But her overactive brain wouldn’t leave her alone.
Even the cats seemed restless. They forewent their usual naps to prowl around the office, chasing sunbeams, each other, bits of paper and whatever else they could fine. They were driving her crazy.
She left at 5 p.m. on the dot, determined to come in on the weekend and catch up on the work she sorely needed to do. While calling Libby on the way home, she managed to get her to promise to come over for dinner.
Joe and Flipper were no less rambunctious at home. Deirdre defrosted fish fillets, made rice and chopped up vegetables for a salad. The cats kept jumping on the counter, playing with bits of cucumber that rolled away and meowing pitifully.
“Shoo!” she said, on her last nerve. “You two are worse than a pair of teething toddlers today.”
Libby arrived with a bottle of wine. “I really need this,” she sighed as Deirdre hugged and kissed her.
She poured them two glasses and they sat down to dinner. Flipper somehow managed to get on top of the china cabinet and stared down at them, all round-eyed and innocent.
“How are you doing? Tell me honestly.”
Libby shook her head. She had a fashionable brown bob and bangs and she was wearing a white linen shirt. Deirdre wished she could look as stylish.
“I’m just lost, Dee. I’ve been walking around the inn, trying to imagine a life without Doc there. It just doesn’t seem possible. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t have our problems, but…” Her voice trailed off and she hung her head.
“I thought everything was good between you two,” her friend gently prompted.
Libby shook her head, her bob swishing back and forth. “It was. And then it wasn’t. Doc was grouchy. I think he felt trapped. I don’t know. He wasn’t very communicative. We were having money problems. He even threatened divorce.” She covered her eyes then.
Dee put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to upset you.”
“No please, it’s good to talk about this. Doc and I were so focused on having this perfect-seeming marriage. Perfect life. Why bother? Neither of us were close to being faultless. I’ve had such a hard time adapting to living here. I love the inn but sometimes I feel trapped. I started buying things online just out of boredom. And once I started, I discovered I couldn’t stop. It was like smoking. Or drinking. There was no quitting. And I felt ashamed and tried to hide it. Doc found out anyway. He was furious and our relationship got much worse after that.”
She wiped her face and took a small bite of food but her face still looked miserable. The door creaked open then. Deirdre looked over frowning.
“Who could that be? I’m not expecting anyone.”
Betty came into the dining room. Her face darkened as soon as she saw Deirdre. “How dare you!” she yelled. “The police are nosing into my business now. I know it’s you who put them onto me.”
Libby stood up. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s been asking questions about me,” Betty replied, pointing her finger at Dee.
Deirdre stood up. “Libby, I was going to tell you. I accidently found out that Betty is to inherit the inn.”
The grieving woman went pale. “How could that be? It’s rightfully mine.”
Betty shook her head, grinning. “Not anymore. It’s mine now.”
“You have no right…”
“I have every right!” Betty yelled. “It’s your own fault! You and your debt. Doc was desperate to pay it. It could have bankrupted him. I managed to wiggle the truth out of him and offered to rescue him if he bequeathed the inn to me. Seemed a small price to pay.”
Libby’s face became thunderous. “You’ve always wanted that inn for yourself! You’ve always wanted my life for yourself. And so you’ve tried to poison it instead. It’s always been that way, ever since we were kids. It’s not going to happen this time, Bets. I’ll take you to court, I swear.”
Betty’s eyes bulged. “You’ll never get it!” she yelled and lunged forward, grabbing at her sister. The two of them began to grapple. Betty’s hands reached for her sister’s neck. Deirdre tried to push between them.
Flipper, who was overhead, arched his back like a Halloween cat and hissed angrily. Clearly he didn’t appreciate people fighting in his head. But the noise only escalated. He hissed again, lost his balance and fell straight onto Betty’s head.
She screamed, clawing at the furious cat that had landed on her like a ton of bricks. Flipper managed to push off and tear away, yowling as he ran. Betty yelled too and took off like a shot. Dee immediately got the police on the phone.
“Come quick! You want your suspect? She’s attacking Libby Roy and being attacked by my cats. I’m not joking Rob. Look, if I’m wrong I owe you a beer. Finally, a week’s worth of beer. And hurry.”
Chapter 12
Sam and Deirdre leaned back in her wicker sofa on her porch. It was Sunday. She’d finished her work the day before and had all the time she wanted to relax. They’d just finished a breakfast of blueberries, maple syrup and French toast and were sipping hot cups of coffee while watching the morning unfurl. The sea was calm and the sky a clear blue. The cats were curled up on the rug by her feet.
“Another case solved,” Deirdre commented. “This one was a doozy, too.”
“What do you think’s going to happen to the inn?” Sam asked.
“Don’t know. It’s before the courts now. Now that Betty’s confessed she can’t inherit. I imagine Libby is the next logical person.”
He whistled and stroked his beard with his weathered, strong hands. “Why’d she do it? Why not just wait?”
Dee sighed. “I guess she couldn’t. She wanted that inn so badly. And Doc was still healthy. Could have been decades before he passed.”
Sam shook his head. “Betty had a good life. I don’t get it.”
“There’s some rivalry between her and Libby I don’t quite understand. Explains why they weren’t close.”
Sam stretched out his long legs. The sofa creaked. “Guess this is a lesson in being satisfied with what we have.”
She laughed. “Impossible. We all want more. I’m convinced it’s in our nature.”
Her friend looked over at her affectionately and took her hand. “I think you’re right, Dee. It’s never good enough, is it?”
She studied his dear, lined face and smiled. “Sometimes it should be, Sam. But then it just isn’t anyway.”
THE END
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Deirdre The Cat Lady Sleuth (Deirdre The Cat Lady Sleuth Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 4