Murder by Page One

by Olivia Matthews

  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 the delivery woman, then took the food bags from her. “It’s the least I can do for all the two of you are going through to help me.”

  Spence and I protested her generous offer, but Jo remained stubborn. She seemed to ignore us as we followed her to her office toward the center of the bookstore. Her obstinacy was her only flaw—and one of many characteristics we shared.

  We gathered around Jo’s cozy conversation table for lunch. The air in her office was brisk. I was convinced she kept the temperature down for an excuse to wear her orange-and-green college cardigan.

  In my peripheral vision, I noticed Jo had added a few more stress balls to the collection on her desk. A peek at her hands revealed she’d all but decimated her fingernails. While we dug into our soups and sandwiches, we kept our conversation light—delicious food, wonderful weather, weekend plans.

  “My big weekend plan is celebrating my parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary.” A grin stretched my lips. “My brother’s going to teleconference me in to the celebration to surprise them.”

  “Congratulations to your parents.” Jo paused with her soup spoon partway to her mouth.

  “That’s wonderful.” Spence sketched a toast with his bottle of iced tea.

  “I’m happy for them.” I sighed with satisfaction and a tinge of regret for the distance between us. If only I could use some vacation time. “And I’m taking Phoenix to a new vet after work this evening.”

  “I hope this one can help him.” Spence gave me a look of concern as he finished his Southern-fried fish sandwich.

  Jo swallowed a bite of her Southern-style buttermilk fried chicken sandwich. “Has he shown any improvement at all?”

  I flexed my shoulders in a restless movement. “A little, but he’s still not himself. In Brooklyn, he loved to explore. He was always getting into something. Ever since our move, he’s been disinterested in everything.”

  “Hopefully, the vet will be able to treat Phoenix and he’ll make a speedy recovery.” Jo set aside the remains of her sandwich, and chicken stew with tomatoes and herbs. Her voice bounced with an optimism I hadn’t heard in days.

  “I hope so too.” Since my favorites—turkey club and New England clam chowder—weren’t on the sandwich shop’s menu, I’d made do with the turkey-and-cheddar sandwich and chicken noodle soup. I slid a look toward Spence. “Your mother came to see me this morning. She asked me to stop our investigation.”

  “Really?” Spence sounded amused.

  “Really?” Jo was horrified.

  “Really.” I held up my hand to stop Jo as she started to interrupt. “But I was able to change her mind.”

  Spence took a deep drink of his iced tea. “She gave me a similar lecture about the newspaper and my position in the community.”

  Startled, I frowned at him. “You could’ve warned me your mother was opposed to our inquiry.”

  His smile was unrepentant. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

  Jo’s wide-eyed look of concern swung from him to me and back. “Your mama’s a member of the library’s board of directors. Is Marvey’s job in jeopardy? I don’t want her to get in trouble for helping me.”

  I blinked. “My job isn’t in jeopardy. Ms. Holt agreed I could continue our inquiry.”

  “But, Marvey, your boss’s boss came to your office.” Jo emphasized her words as though willing me to feel her fear. She turned to Spence. “Would your mama fire Marvey for helping me?”

  “Don’t worry, Jo. My mama won’t do that.” His tone was somber, but I caught the glint of humor in his dark eyes.

  Jo didn’t appear convinced. “How do you know?”

  “Well, first, my mama’s a savvy businesswoman.” He set down his sandwich and gave Jo his undivided attention. “And second, she’s told me often enough she’s impressed by what Marvey’s already accomplished for the library in the short time she’s been here.”

  I pinned Jo with a direct look. “Are you satisfied?”

  “She’s been singing Marvey’s praises.” Spence collected his sandwich.

  I patted his firm arm, which was covered by his pale cream business shirt. “That’s enough now, Spence. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Yes, thank you, Marvey. I’m satisfied.” Jo folded her arms across her chest. “I just don’t want either of you getting in trouble with Spence’s mama any more than I want to lose my store.”

  A chill crawled through me. What would happen to To Be Read if we weren’t able to clear Jo’s reputation? What would happen to the community if it didn’t have convenient access to a bookstore?

  “We’re going to prove your innocence.” Spence’s tone made a believer out of me. “I heard back from Isaiah, our Peach Coast Inn manager. He confirmed Pelt checked in Saturday night, after the deputies would’ve taken his statement for Fiona’s murder.”

  “Thank you for looking into that for us, Spence.” Was it wrong that part of me was disappointed Willy hadn’t lied about when he’d gotten into town?

  Jo pushed aside her half-eaten sandwich. “Does this mean we have to take him off our list?”

  “He’s still a person of interest as far as I’m concerned.” I finished my soup. “But it would’ve been easier to build an argument to investigate him if we had proof he’d had time to commit the murder.”

  “We’ve been investigating for five days.” Jo balanced her elbows on the table and cradled her head in her hands. “Tomorrow will be a week since Fiona’s murder, but we don’t have any additional information to present to the deputies and they’re still focused on me. What are we missing?”

  I jerked my chin toward Spence. “We’re meeting with Buddy’s lawyer Monday. We’re going to keep digging, Jo.”

  Hoping to lighten the mood before going back to work, I
redirected our conversation to more casual topics—upcoming new book releases, summer plans, and the weather. We cleared the remnants of our lunch and made our way out of Jo’s office. In the store, I faced a view of shelf after shelf after shelf of books. As usual, the sight sent my inner bookworm into a fit of ecstasy.

  Without To Be Read, residents would have to drive nineteen point one miles to the nearest bookstore. Granted, the grocery store, general store, pharmacy, and a few other locations had modest literature selections. Jo’s store, however, catered to a wide range of literary tastes, and offered events to celebrate books and reading. Losing either the library or the bookstore would be a devastating blow to the Peach Coast community.

  I turned to follow Jo and Spence to the front of the store…then did a double take. The sight of a familiar figure in the store’s romance section captured my attention.

  I called to my friends over my shoulder. “Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up with you.”

  “Where are you going?” Jo’s voice trailed after me. I ignored her for now.

  I had Zelda Taylor in my sights and was determined to question the writing group president. “Hey, Zelda. I’m so happy to see you at the bookstore.”

  Startled, she spun to face me. The pleated skirt of her cream cotton dress spun around her. A cloud of her soft, floral perfume embraced me. “Marvey. Hello. I’m happy to see you here too. My, your pendant is lovely.”

  “Thank you.” I touched my Joy Luck Club pendant. “There are people in town who are giving Jo’s bookstore a wide berth after Fiona’s murder.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard some of the talk around town.” Zelda waved a dismissive hand. The diamonds in her silver charm bracelet glittered under the fluorescent lights. “People are unsettled because of the murder. It’s understandable. Once the killer’s been caught, everyone will feel better, and things will go back to normal.” She dialed down her master-of-ceremonies volume for a more confidential tone. “I’ve also heard you’re doing some amateur sleuthing. What have you learned?”

  I released my pendant and folded my hands in front of my hips over my pencil-thin dark blue skirt. “I’ve learned there was tension between you and Fiona. May I ask the cause of it?”

  Zelda straightened as though jerked from behind. A few red strands escaped the pile of hair on top of her head. She touched the short pearl necklace that dressed up the otherwise plain bodice of her dress. “What are you saying? Do you think I could’ve killed Fiona?”

  “I’m not trying to find the killer.” I spread my arms. “I’m trying to prove my friend’s innocence.”

  “By pointing the finger at someone else? You’re very bold.”

  “I’ll let the evidence do the pointing.”

  Zelda took my measure as though trying to decide how much, if anything, to tell me. I knew she wasn’t obligated to speak with me. No one was. But I dared to hope she would, if only to clear suspicion from herself. I held her gaze, reminding myself to breathe.

  After a moment, her body relaxed. She shrugged. “Why not? They say confession is good for the soul. There was a time I wanted to hurt Fiona.” Zelda’s voice was low and intense. “I even fantasized about it. That woman ruined my life.”

  She wasn’t the only one who could make that claim. “How?”

  “As I said, those feelings are in the past. I didn’t kill Fiona.” Zelda’s simple gray pumps tapped across the hardwood flooring as she crossed to a pair of overstuffed armchairs.

  I followed. “What happened between you?”

  Zelda gracefully lowered herself onto one of the floral upholstered armchairs. I sank onto the one beside her. Her white cheeks flushed pink, and she dropped her eyes. “I was a financial manager with Malcovich Savings and Loan. I loved my job. I really loved it, and I enjoyed working for the bank. Over the years, I’d climbed the corporate ladder, and I was looking for my next big move.”

  “I’m listening.” I could hear her excitement as she talked about her previous job. It reminded me of the passion I had for the library and my career.

  My empathy was growing for her. Because I knew how the story would end, I took a breath to brace myself and caught the scent of fresh paper and new books. A brief scan of the seating area confirmed we had the space to ourselves. Nearby signage revealed we were in To Be Read’s self-help section. I forced myself to look away from the bookshelves.

  Zelda folded her arms and crossed legs. I was pretty sure that with her interest in body language, Viv would agree Zelda was feeling defensive. “The bank asked Fiona to do an audit of a product I was in charge of. It was a successful product. They were thinking of expanding it, but wanted an outside review to make sure the numbers were solid. I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “Why would you? I’m sure you did your due diligence to confirm your reports.” I sensed we’d come to the part of her story in which bad things were about to happen. Her dream career would become a nightmare.

  “Absolutely I did.” Zelda sat straighter and gripped the arms of her chair. “I was confident the audit was a formality. The bank would greenlight expanding the product, and I’d get my promotion. I was wrong on all three accounts.”

  Here it comes. “Fiona found something.”

  Zelda sighed. It was the sound of someone trying to put the past behind her and to find inner peace. “According to her audit, the formula I programmed for my spreadsheet was wrong. The bank was actually losing money on the project. I was fired on the spot.”

  I briefly closed my eyes as I imagined the pain, anxiety, and humiliation Zelda must’ve felt as a result. “I’m so sorry. How devastating.”

  “You have a way with words.” Zelda’s tone was dry. “Yes, I was devastated, mortified, and very, very confused.”

  “Because if the product was losing money, you—or someone—would’ve realized it sooner.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought.” She wiped away tears. “I was certain Fiona had done something to my files to make it seem as though the error had been mine. I was confident my spreadsheet could not have been wrong. I was sure of it. I even confronted her.”

  Reaching into my purse, I took out a small packet of tissues and offered one to Zelda. “Had Fiona tampered with your files?”

  “No, she hadn’t.” Zelda dried her eyes. Her face was pale and pinched. “The error had been mine. I had made the mistake, and it went undiscovered until Fiona’s audit. Confronting her just made matters worse. At first, I felt like a failure. Afterward, I also felt like a fool. The whole thing really shook my confidence, you know? I didn’t even have the courage to apply for another job.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I waited a beat for her to regain her composure before continuing. “Is that the reason you and Fiona stopped attending your writers group’s critique sessions? Because of this bad experience?”

  Zelda took a shuttering breath. “I can’t speak for her, but that’s part of the reason I stopped attending. Seeing her reminded me of my failure. It was bad enough sitting next to her during the meetings. I didn’t want to extend my discomfort with the critique sessions.”

  “I’m truly sorry you had that experience.” I considered the other woman. She was smart, professional, personable, and loved books. “I don’t mean to pry, but have you found another job? The library is filling entry-level positions. They’re only part-time, but you could get a paycheck while looking for something more suitable.”

  Zelda offered me a weak smile. “Thank you, Marvey, but I already have a part-time job. Fiona hired me.” She sighed again. “Instead of being grateful, I was embarrassed. Pride is a sin. I’d been a financial manager for a national bank. Now I’m working part-time for a local accounting firm. Well, it’s a paycheck and it’s helping to rebuild my confidence.”

  “Good luck. And thank you for sharing your experiences with me. I know you didn’t have to.”

  “They were r
ight.” Zelda squared her shoulders. “Confession is good for the soul. So are you taking me off your list of persons of interest?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you’re cleared.” I rose from the soft floral armchair. “But if you think of someone who may have had a stronger motive to kill Fiona, could you please let me know?”

  She looked up at me. “You know, during that whole ordeal, Fiona never told a soul outside of the bank about my mistake. Not even Nolan. Even after I confronted her. She never told a soul.”

  “It makes me wonder whether she was the villain people considered her to be.”

  Zelda stood. “It’s been my experience people often aren’t what they may seem.”

  That was only part of the problem.

  Chapter 27

  We were crossing names off our suspect list quickly. Too quickly? Betty, Bobby, Willy, Nolan, Zelda. Was I too trusting of their protestations of innocence? One of these people must be the killer.

  Or am I overlooking someone?

  These doubts and second-guesses dogged my footsteps as I rejoined my friends. The only thing I was absolutely clear on was Jo’s innocence.

  “I just spoke with Zelda Taylor.” I found Jo and Spence beside one of the front book displays of new nonfiction releases. I lowered my voice to share what I’d learned.

  “Maybe blackmail wasn’t her motive.” Jo sounded as desperate and frustrated as I felt. “Maybe she had another reason to want to hurt Fiona.”

  Spence put a comforting hand on Jo’s shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Jo.” A bookstore employee bounded forward. Her big brown eyes smiled, and her mass of reddish-gold curls seemed to wave at us before she centered her attention on her employer. “I’m sorry to interrupt y’all. Ms. Jo, I was wondering if you’d seen my jacket? I’m sure I’d left it in the storage room.”