Bobby expelled a harsh breath. He paced behind the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. When he finally turned toward me, his inscrutable mask was back in place. “Ms. Marvey, you’re bound and determined to crawl into my mind and pick apart my thoughts, ain’t that right?”
I took his words as a statement of fact rather than an attack. “We’re both interested in the truth. I believe the truth is your father didn’t leave Fiona in charge of your inheritance, so what really happened to your money?”
Bobby looked toward his mom. “Your lies about Fiona gave the town the wrong ideas about her.”
“Bobby!” She shot a panicked look in my direction before giving him a quelling stare.
“It’s the truth.” Bobby appeared unmoved by Betty’s show of temper. He held my gaze. “I cared about Fiona, but I didn’t want to contradict my mama.”
“That’s right.” Betty gave a decisive nod, her previous shame forgotten. “I raised my son right.”
Bobby rubbed his eyes. I sensed the tension he was battling. It was strong and must’ve had a grip on him for a very long time. “What you did was wrong and unfair. Worse, I’m your son, and you put me in a bad position.”
“Bobby!” She gaped at him.
He ignored her interjection. “Fiona was a good person. She loved my father. He was happier with her than he’d been with my mama. I couldn’t resent my father for finding a woman who could love him like that.”
“Excuse me?” Betty’s tone was strident.
“And he never cheated on Mama.” Bobby pointed toward Betty in an almost accusing manner. “You know that’s true, Mama.”
Again Betty’s gaze met mine before slipping away. “Well, I…”
After speaking with Nolan and Zelda, and considering the information the librarians had uncovered about Buddy’s finances, I’d begun to suspect Fiona’s tattered reputation had been a figment of Betty’s imagination. Now Bobby was confirming that realization too.
Bobby turned back to me. “Don’t get me wrong. I had my doubts about Daddy and Fiona at first too.”
“I understand.” How would I feel if my father divorced my mother to marry another woman? It would be a difficult position. I’d want both of my parents to be happy. However, in such a situation, for one to be happy, the other would suffer a broken heart.
Bobby crossed his arms and propped his hips against the counter behind him. “Daddy tried real hard to correct the lies about Fiona. But no one listened. Everyone thought he was a fool.” He slid his mother another look. “Doctors said Daddy died of a heart attack. I think he died of a broken heart because of the lies goin’ ’round town about Fiona.”
Betty seemed to shrivel inside herself, but she maintained her silence. For once, she didn’t have anything to say.
My heart ached for Fiona’s untenable situation. “It must’ve been horrible for her. Did she ever say anything to you about it?”
His shrug was restless, impatient. “I asked her about it once. Wanted to know why she didn’t call out Mama’s lies. She said she’d rather people thought she was spendin’ all of Daddy’s money than for people to see Daddy as a failed businessman.”
I frowned. “She obviously loved your father very much.”
Bobby hesitated. “She also didn’t want to have me hurt by people sayin’ unkind things about Mama.”
I glanced at Betty and found her hanging her head as though in shame. I returned my attention to Bobby. “Did you know Fiona was using her own money to prop up your father’s real estate business?”
Bobby slid a look at his mom before responding. “Yes, I did. I felt horrible for not defending Fiona. I didn’t kill her. I don’t think Ms. Jo did, either. But I do want whoever killed her to be caught and punished. Fiona deserves justice. She was a good person. I miss her very much.”
The emotion in his voice was sincere. So was the shame and regret in Betty’s eyes.
“I do have another question, if you’re up for it.” My voice was tentative out of respect for Bobby’s grief. His sorrow felt as though it had been building for quite some time.
He nodded. “What is it?”
I still hesitated. “What were you arguing about with Willy Pelt in On A Roll last week?”
Bobby’s features tightened. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Pelt wants Fiona to be buried in Beaufort. That’s not right. She had a plot right here next to my father. That’s what she would’ve wanted.”
I thanked Bobby, nodded to Betty, then left the store. Bobby had asserted he hadn’t killed Fiona, nor did he believe Jo had. It didn’t escape my attention that he hadn’t made a similar assertion about his mother.
“Your usual, Marvey?” Anna May’s greeting reached me from across On A Roll as I entered the cozy café before work Monday morning.
“Yes, thank you, Anna May. And a slice of your delicious peach cobbler, please.”
Even from halfway across the café, I could discern the twinkle in her eyes. I drew an appreciative breath of the fresh-baked sweets and chocolatey pastries. My comfortable cream pumps carried me closer to my café mocha with extra espresso.
“Good morning, Marvey.” Etta’s smile warmed her dark blue eyes. “I’m enjoying that women’s fiction novel you recommended to me. Thank you.”
I paused beside the tiny table the retiree shared with her café companion. “I’m so glad. Thank you for letting me know. You might also be interested in the sequel. If you’d like, I can reserve it for you at the library.”
Etta leaned toward me. “Oh, that would be wonderful. I’m almost done with this one.”
“I’ll set it aside for you.” I felt the familiar rush that came from spreading book love. Still smiling, I turned to her friend. “Good morning, Dabney. Is there a book you’d like me to hold for you at the library?”
“I don’t like fiction.” He made it sound like a dirty word. “I’d rather keep my feet grounded in reality.”
So far, Dabney was my greatest challenge as a librarian. “You know the library also has an extensive selection of nonfiction in a wide variety of subjects. You have an open invitation to stop by and browse through those sections.”
Dabney responded with a noncommittal grunt.
Undaunted, I boosted the wattage on my smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” As I turned toward the counter, I adjusted my Read, Renew, Return canvas tote bag on my shoulder, then fished my wallet from my oversized black purse. “How was your weekend?” I had the exact change ready for Anna May as I arrived at her cash register. Her T-shirt read No Kissing Before the Sipping.
“Busier than a moth in a mitten.”
Since I’d recently heard the phrase, I wasn’t as thrown by the imagery as I otherwise would’ve been. “What’s keeping you so busy?”
“The Cobbler Crawl is less than a week away. There’s still a lot of baking to get done.” Anna May handed me my receipt, then turned to prepare my mocha. “How ’bout yours?”
“It was nice. Thank you.”
“But don’t you worry now. I’m still making time to read.” She laughed. “Since you moved to town, I’m reading more books now than when I was in school.”
“Speaking as a librarian, that doesn’t exactly dampen my spirits,” I said dryly.
Anna May snorted. “Yeah, well, I picked up one recipe book from the library, then decided to buy it from To Be Read. It came in Saturday.”
I was listening, fascinated, to her description of a Coca Cola cake recipe—who knew there was such a thing?—from her new pastry book when Willy joined us.
“Mornin’, ladies.” He rocked on his heels as he looked from Anna May to me.
Anna May handed me my mocha and the bag with the peach cobbler before turning to frown at Willy. “You look like someone just licked the red off your candy.”
My eyebrows stretched up my forehead. I forced myself not
to grab my cell phone to add her comment to my Peach Coast translation notes.
“I’m anxious to return home to Beaufort.” He sighed gustily. “No offense to your town, but I’ve got a business to run.”
“None taken.” Anna May spread her arms to encompass her café. “I run a business of my own. I can understand how you must be feeling. If the deputies held me over for a week, I’d be pitching a hissy fit with a tail on it.”
Pitching a hissy fit. That sounded familiar. I dug my cell phone out of my bag, launched my Notes application, and scrolled to the Ps in my Peach Coast to New York Translation List. In context, pitching a hissy fit with a tail on it meant Anna May would’ve been furious.
“So, where’s your better half?” Willy asked.
Looking up from my phone, I was surprised to find him watching me. The hint of a smile curved his lips. Curiosity brightened his eyes. Was his question for me? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Willy glanced at Anna May before turning his frown to me. He looked as confused as I felt. “I’m sorry.” His laughter was nervous. “I thought you and Spence Holt were dating? You were with him at Fiona’s signing, and I’ve seen you in here with him a couple of times. Am I mistaken?”
Attending a book event with a friend meant we were dating? If we split a peach cobbler, would that mean we were engaged? Things were different in the South.
That was when I noticed the eerie silence surrounding the café. Disconcerted, I scanned the nearby tables. Conversations had stopped. No one was looking at me, yet I sensed I was the center of everyone’s attention. Even Anna May, Etta, and Dabney seemed to be holding their breaths.
With a sense of heightened awareness, I returned my attention to Willy. Was this the way reality television show participants felt? I was waiting for a director to yell, “Cut! She needs more makeup. A lot more makeup. Don’t skimp.”
“Spence and I are friends. We’re not dating.” I detected a collective sigh of disappointment all around me. Was I imagining things?
“I’m sorry. My mistake.” Willy didn’t look as though he believed me. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his dark green trousers and rocked back on his heels. “How’s your investigation going? Have y’all found any leads?”
I shook my head. “I wish I had some progress to share with you. Have the deputies given you any updates?”
His shoulders lifted and fell with a sigh. “No, they haven’t given me any reason to hope they’ll solve this case any time soon. In the meantime, I’m having to leave town without completing the arrangements to have Fiona’s body shipped back to Beaufort.”
Was the cause of the delay Bobby’s opposition to Willy’s claim on Fiona’s body?
“The deputies will solve the case soon. They haven’t found anything yet, but I’m hopeful they will.” I didn’t know why I felt compelled to defend Peach Coast’s finest. The deputies were stubborn and prideful—at least, Jed was.
“Marvey’s right.” Anna May brought Willy a cup of plain, black coffee and his change. “The deputies may not have much experience investigating murders, but we’re lucky to have them. They’ll get to the bottom of this just as fast as they can. Don’t you worry.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Willy accepted his coffee and stepped away from the counter. I heard the skepticism in his voice.
“You mentioned you’re getting ready to return to South Carolina. When?”
Willy sipped his coffee. “I’m leaving tomorrow. The deputies have finally verified my information, including when I checked into the hotel.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I would’ve thought the deputies would check that information first.”
“Me too, but I suppose they’ve been busy.” He shrugged. “And I was trying to arrange transportation for Fiona’s body.”
I checked my watch. “I’d better get to work. Have a safe trip home.”
Willy smiled. “It was nice meeting you, although I wish it’d been under happier circumstances.”
“Me too.” I exchanged a wave with Anna May, who was waiting on a customer, then turned to leave.
As I made my way to the library, I glanced over my shoulder in the general direction of Willy’s hotel. How long would it take to drive from the hotel to the bookstore—and back?
Chapter 29
“As we were beginning to suspect, Fiona wasn’t who we were told she was.” I didn’t even try to mask my frustration when I joined Jo and Spence for lunch Monday afternoon.
Spence was hosting us at the conversation table in his office at the newspaper. We’d ordered our usual sandwiches, soups, and iced tea. During our meal, I’d caught Jo and Spence up on everything Bobby had told me about him, Betty, and Fiona. They’d been as surprised as I had.
“Betty has a lot to answer for.” Jo leaned back on her chair and sipped her iced tea.
“No doubt.” I shrugged my eyebrows. “But she’s not our main concern right now. You are.”
Jo continued, looking from me to Spence and back. “Although, I can’t understand what Fiona was thinking. I can’t see myself sitting quietly by while someone spreads vicious, hateful rumors about me. She must’ve been crazy in love with Buddy.”
Spence set down his glass of iced tea and looked at me. “That’s a good point. What would you do for love?”
Confused, I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in love.”
Jo laughed. “I’ve fallen in and out of love at least a dozen times.”
Spence shifted on his seat at the matching circular table to face her. “You said if you were Fiona, you wouldn’t have allowed Betty to spread lies about you.”
“No, I would not.” Jo sounded quite adamant. “That kind of slander would not only destroy you personally, but it’d damage you professionally.”
“That’s true.” Spence gestured toward her with his bottle of iced tea. “We build our businesses on the backs of our good reputation. If that reputation is tarnished, our business takes a hit.”
Jo spread her hands. “Look at how the rumors I killed Fiona are affecting my store. And most people don’t believe them. Daily receipts are down almost forty percent. Online sales are down too. People aren’t even coming in for a cup of coffee. And that’s despite my defending myself.”
No wonder Jo looked like she wasn’t getting any sleep. I directed my question to Spence. “Do you know whether the gossip about Fiona hurt Nolan and Fiona’s accounting firm?”
Spence looked thoughtful as he shook his head. “Nolan’s business seems to be doing well. There are only a handful of accounting practices in Peach Coast, but Nolan’s is the largest. He’s handled my family’s accounts for years.”
Jo nodded. “Nolan handles my accounts too.”
I swept my gaze across Spence’s office as I considered what he and Jo had said about Fiona’s firm. “Maybe people like the idea of having someone rumored to be obsessed with money handling their finances.” My attention settled on the family photos beside Spence’s computer. There was one of him with his arms around his parents’ shoulders and another with his parents embracing. His mother and father were lost in each other’s eyes. “Bobby implied Fiona stayed silent because she loved Buddy and didn’t want people to know his business was failing.”
Jo made an impatient sound. “I can’t understand her not defending herself. There’s no way I would’ve stayed silent. No way.”
“I agree with you, but we aren’t Fiona.” I returned my attention to my friends. “Can we all agree that perhaps the motive wasn’t money but love?”
“I can agree to that.” Spence drank more of his iced tea.
“So can I,” Jo agreed. “Does that leave only Betty with a motive?”
I turned the conversation back to the matter at hand. “What about Willy? He seems to care a great deal about Fiona.”
J
o’s expression was dubious. “I don’t know. Would someone really drive all the way to Peach Coast just to kill someone out of unrequited love?”
“That does seem farfetched.” Spence also seemed skeptical. “And we confirmed he didn’t check into the inn until after the police took everyone’s statement.”
Distracted, I wrapped my hand around my book pendant. I’d recreated the original 1994 cover of Night Song, a historical romance by Beverly Jenkins.
Jo slumped back on her chair. “We may not have a motive for anyone anymore.”
I needed chocolate. “If we don’t come up with a motive for Willy soon, we’re going to lose our window of opportunity. He’s leaving Peach Coast tomorrow.”
“Fiona Lyle was the best thing to ever happen to Buddy Hayes. It’s a shame that blockhead didn’t appreciate her as he should’ve.” Grant Gillis was a plain-spoken person. Someone should’ve warned me.
A co-founding partner of Gillis & Sweets LLC, Grant had agreed to stay after normal business hours to meet with Spence and me Monday evening. Spence had driven, which was fortunate. First because I didn’t have my car since I’d walked to work, and second, if I’d driven, we may have ended up in Florida.
Grant had told us in advance—and repeatedly—that he wouldn’t divulge privileged information pertaining to either Buddy’s or Fiona’s legal or business affairs jointly or separately. Legal speak for he wasn’t going to gossip.
The seasoned lawyer’s firm stood in the heart of Peach Coast. It was housed in a renovated gray brick building I suspected had been a family home once upon a time not too long ago. Its interior showcased an abundance of dark wood trim, hardwood flooring, and closet space. Vivid area rugs splashed color across the main floor. The firm’s executive secretary-cum-receptionist had escorted Spence and me up a winding staircase and down a spacious hallway to the older gentleman’s office. After dropping us off, she’d wished Grant a good evening and had gone home.
I took a moment to recover from my surprise at Grant’s directness. “What makes you think Buddy didn’t appreciate Fiona?”
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