“But why didn’t she? Didn’t it bother her that someone she loved and who claimed to love her wasn’t defending her?” It would bother me.
Willy shrugged listlessly. Even from across the table, I could feel his tension. “Fiona didn’t know why Hayes wasn’t defending her. Maybe he was afraid. Apparently, Betty has a temper.”
I’d seen that firsthand. “What about Bobby? Couldn’t Buddy get his son to stop gossiping about Fiona?”
Willy spread his hands. “All I know is Fiona was upset about Betty and Bobby lying on her, and Buddy not doing anything to stop them.”
I couldn’t imagine the husband who wouldn’t do anything to defend his wife—or the wife who’d stay with a husband like that. “Did Fiona ever confront Betty or Bobby herself?”
“Yes, and I was proud of her for it. Fiona didn’t like confrontations. But whatever she said didn’t work, did it? Betty and Bobby continued to lie on her until the day she died.”
“It sounds as though you think the deputies should be investigating Betty and Bobby.”
“I’m letting the deputies handle their own investigation. I’m sure they’ll find her killer—or killers.”
I didn’t share Willy’s confidence. I took another drink from my mocha, inhaling the scent of chocolate and caffeine. The extra espresso helped.
Willy drained his coffee mug. The caffeine didn’t seem to have given him any extra energy. “Are you going to ask me about my argument with Bobby? I’m sure you noticed it.”
“Now that you mention it, I am curious.” My smile was unrepentant.
Willy moved his shoulders restlessly. “Bobby was trying to pressure me into giving him the details of Fiona’s will.”
I frowned. “How would you know about it? Are you licensed to practice law in Georgia?”
Willy shook his head. “Fiona had asked for my advice when she’d updated her will after her marriage to Buddy. After Buddy died, Bobby had been angling to be her sole beneficiary. He really wanted to get his hands on the property Fiona had inherited from her uncle.”
Something else occurred to me. “Since Fiona didn’t have any heirs, who are her beneficiaries?”
Willy gave me a regretful look. “I’m not comfortable discussing her personal affairs with a stranger. But I can tell you she said she was leaving her uncle’s property to me.”
I sat back on my chair. “You must’ve been a very good friend.”
This new information added another question to my growing list—did Fiona’s generous bequest to Willy give him a motive to commit murder? Or did it give someone else another potential victim?
“You won’t get away with it.” Delores Polly confronted me as I was leaving On A Roll Wednesday morning.
Had she been waiting for me? I looked over my shoulder. Through the coffee shop’s glass façade, I could see Willy seated at the table I’d just left. Delores was a few inches taller than me, which meant she had an even better vantage point. Had she been watching us? That was disconcerting. But then, Delores was the one who’d misrepresented my investigation to Betty.
Bracing myself, I faced the older woman. “Good morning, Delores. What won’t I get away with?”
She narrowed her angry gray gaze. “Blaming innocent people for Fiona’s murder in order to protect your friend.”
I caught my breath. “That’s not what I’m doing. And you’re not the expert lip reader you claim to be. The information you gave Betty about what I supposedly said was wrong.”
Under different circumstances, Delores and I could be friends. She played the church’s piano beautifully for the Saturday evening choir. She was a regular library customer, picking up and dropping off books during her lunch hour every other Monday like clockwork. And judging by the tabby hairs on her beige-and-white patterned cap-sleeved blouse, she loved cats. But it was what it was.
“You’re going around town saying poor Betty and Bobby killed Fiona. Don’t you care that you’re tearing this town apart?” Delores spoke in a stage whisper. She was making an effort not to draw the attention of the few pedestrians near us.
Amazing. Today was the start of only the fourth day of our investigation, and already Delores has me destroying the community. “Since we’re discussing Fiona’s murder and unfounded accusations, what makes you so certain Jo’s guilty?”
Delores straightened her shoulders. She tried to look down her nose, but she wasn’t that much taller than me. “The deputies are investigating her, aren’t they?”
A hot bullet of overprotectiveness shot through me. “The deputies don’t have any evidence that Jo’s done anything. She’s innocent until proven guilty. In fact, you’re the one who’s smearing the good reputation of an innocent person, not me.”
Delores gaped at me like a fish out of water. “You should let the deputies do their job instead of going around town trying to dig up dirt on people.”
“Don’t you want justice, Delores?”
She sniffed as though I’d offended her. “That’s what the sheriff’s department is for. You’re not investigating anything. What you’re doing is a character assassination.”
I searched my mind for the right words to change hers. “I understand a lot of people didn’t like Fiona—”
“That’s an understatement.” Her tone was as dry as dust.
“Perhaps there were valid reasons for that, but Fiona still deserves justice.” I paused, searching Delores’s stubborn expression. “We need to consider every conceivable possibility, not just narrow our focus to one person or even two people. I didn’t know Fiona, but I do know Jo, perhaps better than you do. She cares deeply for this town. She opened her bookstore to share her love of reading with you.”
A flicker of doubt crossed her thin, pale features before she scowled it away. “Betty and Bobby love this town too.”
Why weren’t my words working? I tightened my grip around my tote bag and strained to keep my voice level. “Someone in our community was killed. We’re all scared. We want to find the killer and put them behind bars, but we want to arrest the right person, don’t we?”
She fisted her small hands at her sides. “Are you saying Betty and Bobby are the right people?”
I swallowed a sigh. “No, I’m not.”
“You don’t have any evidence against them, so you don’t have any right to accuse them of anything.”
“The deputies don’t have any evidence against Jo, either. So why are you suspicious of her?”
Delores did another one of her impressive fish impersonations. Circling her, I continued on my way to work.
To confront me the way she had, Delores must feel as protective of Betty as I felt toward Jo. If Delores believed Betty was innocent, why was she trying to intimidate me into leaving Betty alone? Why wasn’t she looking for other suspects the way I was, or ignoring my inquiry? Was she really convinced Betty was innocent—or was she more afraid she was not?
Chapter 16
I’d already been busy at work when Viv, Floyd, and Adrian walked into my office Wednesday morning. Floyd must’ve made quick work of the cobbler I’d left on his desk. It wasn’t much after eight o’clock, and I couldn’t imagine him coming to see me before eating it.
“Thanks for the cobbler.” Floyd tossed his gratitude toward me as he patted his stomach.
“You’re very welcome.” Even though I’d brought a cobbler to Floyd every work day for the past almost four months, he sought me out to thank me every time.
“Any new developments in the investigation?” Adrian settled his hips against the small blond wood circular conversation table beside my desk.
I took a moment to consider my answer, and gestured for Viv and Floyd to make themselves comfortable. They took the two gray guest chairs in front of my desk.
I passed over the details about my early morning intruder. There wasn’t any evidence linkin
g that event to our case, only a very strong hunch. Besides, I wasn’t ready to talk about it. Instead, I filled them in on the information from Spence’s contact in the coroner’s office.
Viv wrapped her arms around her waist. “That gives us an idea about the killer. It’s probably somebody with a bad temper.”
The memory of Bobby’s argument with Willy this morning crossed my mind. Bobby had been pretty angry. But then, Betty seemed angry all the time. “On another note, who do you think Fiona would’ve most likely retained as her lawyer to handle her will?”
“There are a couple of well-regarded law firms in Peach Coast.” Viv’s dark eyes shone with a gleam of interest.
Floyd frowned in consideration. “You should start with Buddy’s lawyer, but you aren’t going to get anything about Fiona’s will out of him.”
“I know.” I balanced my elbows on my desk. “But maybe I could gain some insights based on nonconfidential information.”
Viv gave me a dubious look. “Buddy Hayes retained Gillis & Sweets, Attorneys at Law. They’re the highest-profile firm in town.”
Floyd made a rude noise. “I don’t know how Buddy was able to keep them. I did an internet search and found he hadn’t moved any real estate for almost a year before he died. And by my calculation, those commissions had been small.”
That was an interesting detail. “Why did his business income drop off?”
Viv played with her ruby earring. “Competition among real estate agents in Peach Coast got tougher. When Buddy first started, he was one of the only agents in town. Now, there’s an agent in every neighborhood practically.”
This information made me curious again about the size of Bobby’s trust fund. “Would you say Buddy was accustomed to a high-profile lifestyle?”
Adrian laughed out loud. “Do dogs hunt?”
I took that as a yes.
“Those high-priced lawyers were just the beginning, though.” Floyd used his fingers to count off Buddy’s additional expenses. “He was keeping up appearances with Fiona, paying alimony to Betty, and helping Bobby with his bills.”
I played with my book pendant. Today’s image was the cover of James Baldwin’s If Beale Street Could Talk. “Why was he helping Bobby with his bills?”
“Probably the same reason my parents are helping me.” Adrian shrugged. “My student debt has me so broke between paychecks that I can’t even pay attention.”
I was intimately acquainted with the strain student loans could be on a person’s budget. “How was Buddy able to pay for all of that if his business was struggling?”
“Fiona’s accounting firm was doing well.” Viv spread her hands, drawing attention to her crimson nail polish, which matched her silk blouse. “But I did wonder why they didn’t sell Fiona’s vacation cabin. It would’ve brought in a lot of money.”
That was a good point. I had another one. “If Buddy was dependent on Fiona’s income, then Fiona didn’t marry Buddy for his money. And if I’m right about that, what other rumors about Fiona were false?” A calendar reminder drew my attention to my computer monitor. It was almost time for Floyd, Viv, and I to join Corrinne for our standing Wednesday morning managers meeting. “We’d better get moving. It’s almost eight-thirty.”
I followed Viv and Floyd to Corrinne’s office. Adrian turned toward the circulation desk in the opposite direction.
Corrinne looked up as we arrived. “Ah, our meetings have been starting earlier ever since you joined us, Marvey.”
I settled onto my usual seat on one of the cushioned armchairs in Corrinne’s spacious office. “To be early is to be on time,” I quoted.
The meeting progressed as it usually did. Corrinne invited us to give our department updates. Floyd reviewed the status of various reference resources and renewed his request for additional materials that were in demand by the community. Viv discussed the new books on order. This was an ever-dwindling wish list due to our tight budget. I was excited about our first-ever book swap, another event aimed at increasing engagement and awareness of the library and our resources. The book swap would also serve to help us launch our summer-quarter fundraiser.
“I’ve been promoting our Summer Solstice Book Swap on our social media pages.” I glanced at my notes, highlighting the June twentieth event. “I’m donating some of my gently used books, and of course you’re all welcome to do the same.”
Viv’s expression was dubious. “I’ll see if I find any I can bear to part with. I’ll let the circulation team members and Adrian know about this as well.”
Corrinne gave us an update on her budget proposal meeting with the five-member town council. “The good news is that three of the council members are supportive of our budget requests. For now. The remaining two don’t understand why we need a library when there’s a perfectly good one in the next town over.”
Looking around Corrinne’s conversation table, I wasn’t the only one left gaping at the lack of understanding of the value of libraries.
“Every community needs access to a well-funded library.” I quoted the American Library Association motto: “‘The best reading, for the largest number, at the least cost.’”
Corrinne nodded. “I tried to explain that to them.”
“And of course, the library is about more than borrowing books.” I gestured in the general direction of the circulation area. “There are job search services, educational programs...the list goes on.”
Floyd grunted. “Do you think the three rational members will be infected by those two geniuses?”
“That’s a possibility.” Corrinne stared across her office, seemingly deep in thought.
Viv looked distressed. “What more can we do to persuade them to invest town revenue in the library?”
A glint of determination sharpened Corrinne’s gaze. “We need a show of force. It’s the squeaky wheel that gets oiled. Instead of monthly reports, let’s send the council weekly reports on the number of books borrowed, reference requests, and community engagement events.”
Viv tapped her pen against her notepad on the desk in front of her. “For the sixteenth straight week, we’ve increased our number of library applications. I’ll include that in our weekly report.”
“Excellent. Thank you.” Corrinne looked around the table. “The council meeting is at seven tonight. Are you all attending with me?”
We all nodded, and Viv volunteered that Adrian planned to join us.
“All of the subscription costs for our reference materials have gone up.” Floyd’s voice was tense. “If we don’t get a bigger budget, we’re gonna have to start picking and choosing which ones to keep.”
A distressed hush slumped into the office. No one wanted that.
Corrinne broke the brittle silence. “Those are the stakes we’re facing. So let’s make sure we use those weekly reports to show the council how much this library means to our community and the good we can continue to do.”
That was a plan I could support. In addition to the value the library had to the town, it also was my livelihood. If it closed, I’d be away from my family and without a job.
“We need to find Fiona’s lawyer.” My statement was met with a somewhat startled silence from Spence’s end of the phone line later Wednesday morning. “Hello? Spence, are you there?”
“Hi, Marvey. Are you having a good morning?”
I threw my head back against my cushioned and battered seat. “Why do you make me go through this every time I call you?”
His chuckle was warm and surprisingly playful. “I’m trying to get you accustomed to life in a small town. You need to slow down and enjoy the moment and the people in it.”
I’d gotten this particular lecture from him so often I could’ve delivered it myself, even in my sleep. Little did he know if I couldn’t help Corrinne and the rest of our library team squeeze a bigger budget out of the town counci
l, I could be returning to big-city life.
I glanced at my watch. It wasn’t yet noon, but the morning was sprinting by. “How was your morning, Spence?”
“It’s been a good morning so far, Marvey. Thank you for asking. I’ve already fielded a couple of complaints that our article on the Peach Coast Women’s Auxiliary’s fundraiser for the animal shelter was too short and lacked enthusiasm.”
A startled laugh escaped me. “That’s what constitutes a good morning for you, reader complaints?”
His voice was rich with humor. “I was able to answer some emails and finish my coffee during those calls.”
“Wait a minute.” I frowned as I pictured the article on the auxiliary’s event. “That article was a full page with photos.” As I recalled, the story included several great, full-color photos of the volunteers and animals that benefitted from the fundraiser.
“My mama puts the same couple of ladies up to those complaints every year. One of these years, she’s going to realize those calls don’t make a bit of difference.”
“But this is not that year.” I found his predicament entertaining.
“No, it’s not.” He paused as though listening to my amusement. “Now, wasn’t this better than just rushing into a thing?”
“No, actually, it wasn’t, but I did enjoy your story.”
Spence laughed. “Well, then, we’re just going to have to agree to disagree. So what’s this about Fiona’s lawyer?”
“Do you know who they are?”
“No, I don’t.”
It had been a long shot, but one worth trying. Spence knew almost everyone in town. “Then we’ll need to start with Buddy’s lawyer. He retained Gillis & Sweets, Attorneys at Law.”
He paused. I imagined him enjoying another sip of coffee as we talked. “Now why do we need to speak with Buddy’s lawyer?”
“Buddy’s lawyer may also represent Fiona, or at least know who Fiona’s lawyer is.”
“I assume this is about Fiona’s will?”
“That’s right.”
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