Murder in the Marigolds by Dale Mayer (best young adult book series .txt) 📕

His jaw dropped. “Well, you do make a good suspect.”

“Apparently,” she said in a dry tone. “But sorry to disappoint you. I didn’t do it.”

Then he said something that surprised her. “Well, if you didn’t kill her, who did?”

She looked at him. “I have no idea,” she said in a dry tone. “And I’ve been told in no uncertain terms to stay out of it, since everybody already wonders if it was me.”

“Well then, you can’t stay out if it,” he said. “People will crucify you. People who don’t know you, like I do,” he said.

She stared at him, thinking back to his accusation only moments ago.

Under the scrutiny of her unwavering gaze, he at least had the good graces to flush a lovely shade of crimson. “Well, I mean, obviously I didn’t believe it,” he said.

“Obviously not,” she said. “And you did hear her attack me when she was at my front door.”

He nodded instantly. “Of course, and she was pretty riled. I did see her later that day though,” he said, “but you can bet I stayed well away from her. Wow, she was a fuse ready to light, if I ever saw one.”

“Where did you see her?” Doreen asked excitedly.

“Down at the Starbucks on 97, Hwy 97,” he said.

“About what time was that?”

He frowned. “Hmm. I don’t know, maybe four o’clock. The traffic was ugly. I thought about pulling in there, but instead I went to the drive-through and was glad I did, when I saw her sitting in her car, with the door open, as I drove past. That green Jaguar is unmistakable.”

“It was a rental,” she said.

He looked at her. “They rent luxury cars in town?”

She shrugged. “I had no idea either,” she muttered, “but apparently so.”

“Well, she won’t be driving luxury models anymore, unless it’s a coffin,” he said.

“True enough.”

She thought for a moment and then asked, “Have you ever seen a guy going bald, with a little bit of gray around the top of his head?” Pulling out her phone and flicking through the pictures, she continued, “He’s a little older than me and is always wearing a charcoal pinstripe suit or a charcoal suit with a tiny yellow stripe or very tiny red stripe? A very dapper-looking man?” she asked, walking off the deck, getting closer, and holding up the picture of her ex on her phone. “Have you ever seen this guy around?”

He looked at it and shook his head and said, “No. Do you think he killed her?”

“Well, it’s possible,” she said, “but I don’t even know if he is around. I know he has had some issues with her.”

“Better tell the police. They need another suspect to look at besides you.”

“I told Mack,” she said, “but I don’t think I gave him a picture.” Frowning at that, she quickly sent him a text and added the picture. This is my ex, in case he is in town. He’d make a great suspect besides me. Then she hit Send. She smiled and said, “I just sent that to Mack too.”

“Good,” Richard said. “I really don’t want to deal with new neighbors. You’re bad enough.” And, with that, he dropped down from his perch on the other side of the fence and disappeared.

She gasped in the morning light. “I’m hardly being bad or difficult to get along with,” she threw out.

“Impossible is more like it,” he said. “So much noise, so much notoriety.”

She had to admit he did have a point. She knew he hadn’t been very happy when the Japanese tour buses had come into her orbit either. Or maybe she’d come into theirs? She didn’t know. But at least she hadn’t seen any of those lately. She wandered back to the deck, then headed into the house and poured herself a cup of coffee. When she came back out, a message from Mack was on her phone.

You’re not a suspect.

She grinned at that and sent back a reply. Yay. You could’ve told me last night.

Couldn’t. Last night you were a suspect. This morning we know the assailant was right-handed.

She immediately hit Dial, and, when he answered, sounding a little sleepy, she said, “Seriously, am I off the hook?”

He snorted. “Maybe, but if thinking you are keeps you out of trouble …” And this time he hung up on her.

She wanted to laugh and to cry all at the same time. She hated getting hung up on but knew she deserved it, where Mack was concerned. And he hadn’t done it nearly enough times to get back at all the times she’d done the same to him.

But she danced a little jig and said, “I’m no longer a suspect. I’m no longer suspect. Yay.” Mugs started barking, and Goliath immediately dashed by, trying to get as far away as possible. Mugs threw himself into the grass, where he stayed, Goliath giving him a disdainful look.

Thaddeus, never one to miss a celebration, danced around on the table. “No longer a suspect. No longer a suspect.”

She stopped and stared. “Wow,” she said, “you pick up the darndest things.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Darndest things, darndest things, darndest things.”

“Okay, enough of that too,” she muttered.

“Enough of that. Enough of that. Enough of that.”

“Stop it,” she said, “or you won’t get any cake this morning!”

“Stop it, or you won’t get any cake this morning!”

She just glared at the bird, and, from Richard’s side of the fence, his laughter rose higher and higher, until she imagined him rolling around on the ground, laughing his fool head off.

“That’s fine. Very funny. I’m glad you got your morning’s entertainment,” she called out.

He kicked the boards of the fence several times, as if he were truly rolling down there, uncontrollably laughing at her.

She groaned and said, “Okay, that’s fine. I will go grab coffee and cake, and you’re not getting any.” She went inside and poured herself a second cup of coffee and grabbed a piece of cake. As soon