“Of course. Why would you want to color it? You’re so pretty the way you are.”
Abigail shrugged. “I guess that now that everyone knows I’m getting a divorce, I wanted to change things.”
That got her a round of understanding noises from the ladies in the salon. “You poor thing,” Bernice said. “We all know about your ex-husband, of course. We’re glad you left him, too. From what I know, he’s not a good man to be around.” She leaned forward, almost dislodging the dryer above her head from its position. “I can’t believe you had to call the police.”
“The deputy didn’t even have to leave the car,” Abigail explained. She didn’t like talking about it, but she hoped it would help her open the conversation toward Randall’s murder. “But I’m happy I left, too. I stayed with him far too long.”
“You’re not the only one who stayed with her husband even when they shouldn’t,” Lorraine Johnson said. “Look at Martha. She stayed with Randall, and now, she killed him.”
“I heard about that,” Abigail said. This was the entry point she needed. “But I also heard that she might not have killed him.”
That would have gotten everyone’s attention if they hadn’t already been listening to Abigail. She looked around as if she wanted to make sure no one else could hear, which was ridiculous since everyone in the salon was hanging from her every word. “I mean, I’ve only met her a few times, but she didn’t strike me as a murderer,” Abigail continued. “Besides, I’ve heard that Chief Holden had other suspects.”
“He arrested Martha,” Lorraine pointed out.
“He also arrested Roger, and you saw how that ended up,” Eunice said.
“Who did you hear might have killed him?” Sue Murphy asked, looking at Abigail.
“Miranda, possibly.”
Eunice snorted. “It couldn’t have been her.”
“How do you know that?”
“She was with her mother. I would know. I’m her mom’s neighbor, and I saw her arriving and leaving.”
Abigail suspected she’d stayed by the window for the entire time. “You did?”
“Everyone knows when Randall was killed. I can tell you it wasn’t Miranda. If Chief Holden is thinking about arresting her, it’s going to be a mess.”
“Maybe he won’t arrest her. Maybe he’ll focus on his other suspect,” Abigail added, hoping Chief Holden would never find out about what she was saying about him.
“And who would that be?”
“I was at the coffee shop when Randall and Dewey fought. Apparently, Randall didn’t pay him,” Abigail explained. She hated doing this, talking about people behind their backs. She didn’t want to find out about the details in their lives.
But she had to.
Eunice grimaced. “He didn’t pay a lot of people.”
“True, but I did see Dewey driving away from the house around that time,” Lorraine said.
Everyone turned to look at her. Abigail had to suck in a breath before she could talk without sounding too excited. “You did?”
“I thought he was going on a call. He does that often. Every time something breaks in town, he’s the one who gets called. That’s why I didn’t think anything of it.” She looked at Abigail with wide eyes. “Do you think he did it? That it’s why he left the house?”
“I don’t know. It could be, but he also could have simply been on a call. I’m sure Chief Holden will make sure about what happened before doing anything.” But she wasn’t sure Chief Holden knew about this. He might have suspected Dewey, but if the man had told him he was home, he would have as much of an alibi as Martha.
Dewey had a motive, and he hadn’t been home when Randall had been killed.
Did that mean he was the killer?
17
Abigail was almost a hundred percent sure the killer was Dewey. She didn’t know what to do with the new information, though. She’d been thinking about it for an entire day, and she still didn’t have an answer.
Should she go to Chief Holden with the news? What would he think of her sticking her nose into the investigation? He’d already been curt the last time she’d tried talking to him, and she wasn’t looking forward to doing it again, especially since Martha was still at the station. As far as Abigail knew, she hadn’t been charged with the murder yet, so Chief Holden was either going to have to let her go or charge her, but for now, Abigail didn’t know what his decision would be.
She also couldn’t confront Dewey. She didn’t want to, not when the man could be dangerous. He might snap and try to kill her, too. That made her think about Aunt Charlotte and her stupid decision to find the killer. Abigail didn’t think she knew Dewey was probably involved, but since Aunt Charlotte had called the man several times to work on the house, Abby wouldn’t put it past her to say something she shouldn’t in front of him. She was comfortable with him, and she wouldn’t think twice about it. She wouldn’t see anything wrong with it.
Abigail did, though.
She didn’t know what had happened that night. From the information she could had, she assumed Dewey had gone to talk to Randall at the office, they’d fought, and he’d hit Randall. She might be wrong. Maybe Dewey had planned all of that. Maybe he decided he needed to kill Randall for not paying him. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but she was starting to realize that murder didn’t make a lot of sense in general.
So she couldn’t confront Dewey, and she doubted Chief Holden would talk to her. She could try anyway. He might not want to listen, but he would have to if she told him she knew who the killer was. Even if he didn’t believe her, he would have to look into it.
Or at least, Abigail hoped so.
She’d made her decision. She would go to the station after work, and she’d talk to Chief Holden. What he did once they were done talking would be anyone’s guess, but it wouldn’t be Abigail’s problem anymore. It would be his, and hopefully, he would realize that Dewey was a better suspect than Martha. If he didn’t, well, there wasn’t much Abigail could do, but she’d try.
She looked up and smiled when the door opened. The smile froze on her face when Dewey stepped into the shop, and she looked around, wondering what to do. Aunt Charlotte was in the backroom, and Abigail was grateful for how stubborn the woman was. She’d wanted to make soap, even with the cast, and she’d been in the back for half the day. Abigail had scolded her and told her she needed to rest and that the cast would come off soon enough anyway, but now, she was relieved. Aunt Charlotte’s stubbornness would save her as long as she stayed where she was.
She didn’t know why Dewey was here. She forced a smile on her face and walked around the counter. “What can I do for you?”
He stood in front of her, staring, making her want to shuffle her feet. She was flustered, and she didn’t like it.
“What have you been saying about me?” he asked.
Abigail hoped her expression was innocent enough. “I don’t think I understand.”
He took a step closer, and she moved back. She should have stayed behind the counter. “My neighbor came to talk to me. She asked me if I’d killed Randall? What have you been saying?”
“I never said you killed Randall.”
“Then why did Lorraine tell me that’s what you told her?”
Abigail should have known better. Of course Lorraine had taken it the wrong way. Well, she hadn’t been wrong when she thought that Abby was investigating Dewey. She had been wrong that Abigail was accusing him, even though Abigail did think he was the killer.
She swallowed. “I promise you that I didn’t tell anyone you were the killer. How would I know? I’m not the chief of police. I don’t have anything to do with the investigation.”
Dewey pointed a finger at Abigail’s face. “And you better remember that. I had nothing to do with Randall’s death.”
Abigail raised her hands. “I never said you did.”
“Keep your nose out of my business before you end up like Randall,” Dewey snapped.
Abigail blinked. She’d been told Dewey had a temper, not that he was violent, but he looked like he might be about to snap, and she suspected that was what had happened that night. If he’d met with Randall, he probably had been angry. He’d been angry at the coffee shop, and he and Randall had been in public. What would have happened if they’d been alone?
“You did it, didn’t you?” she asked in a murmur.
Dewey’s expression shifted. He still looked angry but also relieved and sad. “You shouldn’t stick your nose into this.”
“I can’t let Martha or Roger get arrested for something they didn’t do.”
Dewey grimaced. “Yeah. That’s one of the things I regret. I don’t want anyone to pay for what I did.”
He’d just confessed. Abigail knew she should feel triumphant or smug for finding the real killer, but instead, she was afraid. What would Dewey do know that she knew for sure? What would happen to her? What would happen to Aunt Charlotte, who was still in the back, not knowing what was going on?
She swallowed. Her mouth was dry, but she had to do something. She had to convince Dewey not to hurt her, and possibly, to give himself up to Chief Holden. “I’m sure it was an accident,” she said slowly.
Dewey snorted. “Depends on what you mean by accident. I didn’t want to kill him, but I did.”
Abigail had never been in this kind of situation, and she’d never thought she would be. She’d been planning on talking to Chief Holden later today, but apparently, she wouldn’t get to that. “You didn’t mean to do it. You didn’t plan it. I’m sure Chief Holden will see there are extenuating circumstances. You just wanted your money, and Randall made you angry.”
Dewey’s hands tightened into fists. “He said he didn’t know what I was talking about, that he didn’t owe me money, that I had to be mistaken. He said he’d already paid me, and I damn well know it was a lie.”
That seemed to be something Randall did quite often, and Abigail found she disliked him even more. “He manipulated you, or at least, he tried to.”
Dewey didn’t seem to understand what she was saying, but he nodded anyway. “I told him he had to pay me, that it was only right. I did the job he hired me for, and he had to pay. But he said he’d already paid me and that I was trying to get more money out of him. That was a lie. Then, he said he was going to tell everyone how greedy I was, and I threatened him. He wouldn’t stop talking. I don’t know what happened. I grabbed the paperweight, and I hit him.”
“You were angry. People will understand that.” He still hadn’t mentioned what he was going to do to Abigail, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
Still, she needed him to focus on her. She was terrified, both for herself and Aunt Charlotte. No sound came from the backroom, so hopefully, she’d heard what was happening and she’d been smart enough to keep hiding. But if Dewey tried to hurt Abigail, Aunt Charlotte would come charging out of the backroom, probably wielding a broom, and try to hit him upside the head with it. Abigail couldn’t allow that to happen.
The door opened again, and Abigail’s knees nearly buckled when Chief Holden stepped in. He looked tense and his hand was on his gun, but he hadn’t drawn it. He looked from Abigail to Dewey, then said, “Dewey.”
Dewey looked from him to Abigail, and his shoulders slumped even more. “You’re here to arrest me?”
“Yes. I got a phone call that you were here, talking about how you’d murdered Randall.”
Dewey shook his head. “I should’ve run. I should’ve known I wasn’t smart enough to get away with it.”
Abigail didn’t know about that. Chief Holden, the chief of police, hadn’t suspected Dewey until now. That made Dewey smart enough in her opinion.
Abigail wriggled in the chair. She understood why police station chairs were uncomfortable, but she wished she could sit somewhere else. She’d been here for what felt like hours, and maybe it had been. The chief of police and his deputies had a lot of questions, both about what Chief Holden had walked in on and about what Abigail had been doing. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been snooping around, but there was no way out of it. There was no other explanation as to why Dewey had come to the shop to threaten her.
She didn’t know what to make of him. She’d thought for sure he would attack her, try to kill her like he’d killed Randall, but instead, he hadn’t resisted when Chief Holden had arrested him. It was as if all the fight had leaked from him, and while Abigail was grateful, she didn’t know what to make of it.
She believed the murder had been an accident. She didn’t like that Dewey had been okay with letting Roger and Martha pay for what he’d done, but she didn’t think he was an entirely bad person. He was a killer, though. She was happy and relieved he hadn’t touched Aunt Charlotte, who had berated her for what had happened as soon as she’d come out of the backroom. She’d blissfully ignored the fact that she’d been doing the same thing—investigating even though it was none of her business.
Abigail rubbed her face. She wanted to go home. It was dinner time, and she was hungry. She was exhausted. She wanted to go to bed and not get up for twelve hours, possibly even longer.
The chair on the other side of the desk moved, making her jerk. She looked up and relaxed when she saw Chief Holden sitting there, looking at her. She’d been shown to his office after her first conversation with one of the deputies, and she’d been here since then, alone.
“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he said.
She shook her head. “That’s fine. I already knew I would have to. You were busy.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened this afternoon.”
Abigail did. She felt like she’d already gone over this too many times, but she’d expected that, too. The deputy had asked about a dozen questions and had confirmed several things. This was it, though, and she was relieved that by the time she was done with this retelling, she’d be able to go home.
But she was also curious, and once she was done, she asked, “Why did you arrest him?”
Chief Holden blinked. “You were there when he admitted he killed Randall.”
“Yes, but do you have proof?”
He leaned back in his chair and looked at her as if he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “I do have proof. You truly don’t trust me to do my job, do you?”
Abigail didn’t want to make an enemy out of him. Hopefully, their relationship, whatever it was, was still salvageable. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t ask questions. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. Your behavior was enough.” He looked around, then turned his attention back to Abigail. “I suspected him. I suspected a lot of people. I had an entire list, as you well know since you were on it in the beginning.”
“Yet instead of arresting him, you arrested Roger, then Martha.”
“I brought them in for questioning. I was still investigating everyone, and Roger and Martha seemed to have the best motives. The husband or the wife is usually the first suspect, and this case wasn’t any different. I didn’t charge either of them with the murder, though. I brought them in and talked to them, then I let them go.”
“You let Roger go only because he had an alibi.” And she suspected the only reason Martha had been let go was because Chief Holden had arrested Dewey for the murder.
He tapped his fingertips on the desk. “Being the chief of police isn’t easy. I have to talk to everyone, to suspect everyone. I have to ask a lot of questions, and to find out a lot of things, including alibis and whether or not they make sense and are real. I didn’t truly think Martha killed her husband, although I wasn’t sure about Roger. I suspected Dewey, as well as other people, but I had to find proof. I couldn’t arrest him without proof.”
“You arrested Martha without proof.”
“I didn’t arrest her,” he repeated. “I brought her in for questioning. I had to since I’d found out she hadn’t been with Roger the entire night. I didn’t have a choice. I had to do it the right way. We might be i
n a small town, but it doesn’t mean I can do what I want when it comes to investigations.” He gave Abigail a pointed look. “And you didn’t make things easier by sticking your nose into it.”
Abigail felt guilty, but she hoped it didn’t show in her expression. She wasn’t sure she could believe Chief Holden when he said he would have let Martha go, and she didn’t want him to see her as vulnerable or pliable.
“Next time, please stay away from my investigation,” Chief Holden said, startling a laugh out of Abigail.
“I hope there will be no next time. Or are there many murders in town?”
“Not usually, no. I’ve only had to investigate a handful of them since I moved here. I hope I won’t have another one for several years. But you have to let me do my job, both when it comes to murder or other investigations. I know what I’m doing, even though you don’t seem to think so.”
“I was afraid,” Abigail admitted. “After I told you about Roger and Martha, I thought you’d arrested them because of what I said. I thought it was my fault, and I wanted to fix it.”
Chief Holden’s expression softened. “You weren’t the only one who told me about their affair. I should have told you that. You had nothing to do with me bringing them in for questioning.”
“I know that now.”
“Yet, you pushed.”
“I was afraid for my aunt. She wanted to investigate, and I can’t help but think about what would have happened if Dewey had found her instead of me at the shop. You know her. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her mouth shut. She would have pushed him until he snapped, and God only knows what would have happened to her then.”
Chief Holden grimaced. “You might not be wrong there. You have to stay out of police business, though.”
“I will.” Abigail had every intention to do just that. One murder investigation had been enough for her.” “Thank you, Chief Holden.”
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