Murder by Page One by Olivia Matthews (good novels to read in english TXT) 📕

“That’s true.” I glanced at my notes.

“Remember what you said, Marvey.” Spence turned to me. “If one of the people who attended the signing is the killer, what had they done with the murder weapon, and their bloody clothes?”

I shuddered to think of the alternative. “What if the killer hadn’t attended the signing?”

Floyd grunted. “Then a whole lot more names would be added to your list. Don’t think the deputies would take kindly to that.”

By the time Spence and I had wished the other librarians good night and cleaned up after the dinner party, it was after nine o’clock. Spence had declined my help preparing for the dinner, but he hadn’t hesitated to accept my help tidying up at the end of the evening. Perhaps that wasn’t so odd.

Once the dining room and kitchen were returned to their original pristine condition, we called Jo.

The sweet and savory aroma of the baked chicken and peaches entrée lingered over the dining room, bringing back fond memories of good food and interesting company. Spence took the chair at the head of the table. I returned to my seat on his right. He rested his cell phone on the table between us and pressed Jo’s pre-programmed number.

She answered on the first ring. “How was dinner?”

“I think it was very productive.” I looked to Spence for confirmation.

He nodded. “I agree.”

“What?” She sounded confused. “I’m talking about the food. How was it? What did people say?”

I cupped my left hand over my eyes and shook my head. Unbelievable. “The food was wonderful. Spence is an amazing cook. But, Jo, we need you to focus right now.”

“You’re right.” Jo’s sigh was long and deep. “I guess I’m still in denial that I’m a suspect in a murder.”

My heart broke for my friend. “You’re not going through this alone.”

“Marvey’s right.” Spence focused intently on his cell phone, as though Jo could see him. “The librarians agree with us that you’re innocent, and we’re doing everything we can to prove it.”

“Thank you.” Jo’s voice wobbled in the middle, squeezing my heart a little more.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “All right, then. We were right to ask Spence to host this dinner for the librarians. They shared a wealth of information.” With his assistance, I recapped our initial three suspects and the possible motives for each of them.

“I’d never thought about it before, but I’ve seen Zelda abruptly leave the bookstore after spotting Fiona too.” Jo’s disembodied voice rose in amazement.

“Do you have any idea why?” I glanced between Jo—or rather the phone—and Spence.

“No, but now I wish I’d asked.” Her tone was heavy with regret. “Whatever it was, it must’ve been pretty bad.”

I mulled over the observations Viv and Jo had shared, playing them like movie scenes in my mind. “In each scenario, Zelda was the one who left. She could’ve been exhibiting classic avoidance behavior, as though she was the one who’d done something wrong.”

Spence cocked his head. “You sound like a psychologist.”

“I’m a librarian. I know a little about a lot.” I switched my attention back to Jo on the phone. “I think we have solid leads to start with.”

“I agree.” She sounded much more enthusiastic. “When do we confront them?”

“Confront them?” I shifted my puzzled gaze to Spence. He looked baffled as well. “We can’t just walk up to them and ask if they killed Fiona.”

“Why not?” Jo’s question was sulky.

I stared at the phone in amazement. “For one thing, even if one of them was the killer, they would deny it. Meanwhile, we would’ve tipped our hand, letting them know we were suspicious of them. If it turns out one of them is the killer, they’d destroy any evidence against them that they may have kept, like the bloody clothes and the murder weapon.”

“If they haven’t destroyed those things already.” Spence spread his hands.

“All right.” An edge of grumpiness entered Jo’s voice. I couldn’t blame her. “You have a point. So what’s our next step?”

“We should share our notes with the deputies.” Spence had rolled his shirt sleeves up just past his elbows while he’d washed the pots and pans. Now he was unrolling them and buttoning the cuffs.

“The deputies? That won’t do any good.” Jo’s response was near to tears of frustration. “You might as well ball up that list and pitch it into the trash.”

Spence gave his phone a fond look I was certain he’d meant for Jo. “We need to show them Ms. Zelda is worth questioning, and Ms. Betty and Bobby have stronger motives to kill Fiona in comparison to your disagreement with her.”

Jo groused. “My very minor disagreement with her.”

“Spence might be onto something.” I studied him. “He has quite a bit of clout in this town. The deputies might listen to him.”

“I don’t know.” Her stubbornness lingered. “No offense to Spence.”

“None taken.” His lips curved with wry humor.

“Suppose they try to stop us?” Jo asked. “Didn’t you tell me they’d warned you off the investigation when they came to your office this morning?”

Had it only been this morning? It already felt as though that exchange had happened days ago. But Fiona’s murder had happened two days ago, and the deputies had questioned Jo at her home on Sunday.

“Exactly.” I folded my arms on the table and pictured Jo. “They warned me off the case, but Spence could approach them in his role as editor of the town’s paper, checking on the status of the case.”

He nodded. “It’s something I or one of the reporters would do anyway, regardless of whether we were trying to clear your name.”

Jo was doubtful. “I just don’t want the deputies barring us from looking into Fiona’s murder on our own.”

I shared her concerns. “We’ll address that if and when it happens. In the meantime, I think this tactic is worth the effort.”

“So do I.” Spence stared at his phone as we waited for Jo’s verdict.

“All right.” She sighed. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing. You’re