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

sorry. I didn’t, but if you report it to the deputies, I’ll be your witness. The license plate looked like a rental.” She gave me her email address and home phone number.

“I work at the Peach Coast Library.” I fished a business card from my wallet. “Do you have a library card?”

Once back in my car, I found a music radio station and pumped up the volume on a favorite 1980s dance song to help settle my nerves. During the drive home, I stopped feeling shaken and started getting angry. By the time I parked the car in my attached garage, I was once again shaking, but this time with temper, not fear.

Phoenix stretched out at his usual station in front of the French doors, surveying the backyard. I sat cross-legged beside him and scooped him onto my lap. I cuddled and petted him while I filled him in on my day—only the happy parts. He seemed fine. After a few moments, I rose to check on his water bowl and food dish. Phoenix’s water bowl was empty, but I wished he’d show a little more interest in the food. Fortunately, our appointment with the veterinarian was scheduled for tomorrow after work, less than twenty-four hours away.

Turning back to the dining table, I fished my phone from my handbag and sent a text to Jo and Spence. Can you come to my house tonight? Sorry for late notice, but would really like your thoughts on developments I think are related to case. I proofed the text before sending it to make sure it had the proper punctuation.

Within two minutes, they’d both agreed to join me in half an hour. Perfect! That gave me enough time to apply the snake repellant before it got dark and to call the sheriff’s office to report my near-fatal hit-and-run in the general store parking lot. I also might be able to research out-of-state-license plates. I was almost certain the car that had tried to strike me was the same dark sedan that had threatened Willy Wednesday night. Why would someone use a rental car to try to harm me? To remain anonymous, of course.

These weren’t coincidences. Someone was out to get me.

“Someone’s trying to scare me off from investigating Fiona’s murder.” I looked at Jo and Spence.

My friends had arrived within minutes of each other Thursday evening. We were meeting in my living room. I’d made us my favorite orange herbal tea. They’d both declined additional refreshments, since they’d just finished dinner.

Jo cradled the rose porcelain mug. “Do you mean other than the deputies and Delores?”

I gave her a dry look. “Yes. This is more than someone who’s irritated by my meddling or angry that I’ve cast aspersions against their friends. This is someone who wants to scare me, if not hurt me.”

“What makes you think that?” Spence went still. There was tension in his tone.

I hesitated, still loathe to worry them. “I’m not great at math, but even I know the probabilities are off. I’ve had four dangerous incidents over two consecutive days. That’s more than a coincidence.”

Jo’s eyes flared wide. “What’s happened?”

“What incidents?” Spence spoke at the same time. He set his mug on its coaster on the coffee table and sat forward on the sofa he shared with Jo.

I hated the anxiety growing in their eyes. No one wanted to worry friends, but this information was important to the case. And, well, they were my friends. I would want to know if they were in trouble. “The first suspicious event happened yesterday, about two in the morning.” I stood to pace my living room. The hardwood flooring was smooth under my fuzzy lavender slipper socks. My chocolate shorts and purple T-shirt were loose around me. “The motion-detecting lights above my deck came on and woke me.”

Jo looked toward my French doors. “Maybe someone walked past your house.” Even she sounded uncertain about that theory.

I shook my head. “They only come on when people come within ten yards of my house.”

Spence’s eyes darkened with concern. “Ten yards? At that distance, they’re practically on your doorstep.”

I gave them a humorless half smile. “That distance was a compromise between my parents and I. They wanted the lights to come on if someone was across the street.”

Jo and Spence didn’t look amused. If anything, their concern deepened.

Spence stared at the living room ceiling as though imagining the layout of my bedroom. “Your windows face north and south.”

I blinked. Spence knew I didn’t deal in north, south, east, and west. It was left, right, and turnaround. “At one end of my room, the windows face the front and the windows in the back face…the back.”

Jo frowned. “Someone was circling your house.”

Based on the increasing anxiety in their voices, I decided to give them the abridged version of the events: contacting emergency services, Jed and Errol responding to my call, and the deputies’ assertion that the disturbance was a group of kids, playing a prank.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jo muttered.

“I agree,” Spence said.

I shrugged restlessly. “So do I, and I told them as much, but they’re certain of their theory.”

Spence rose and crossed to the other side of the room. “You said there’d been ‘incidences.’ What else has happened?” He propped his shoulder against the curve of the archway between my living room and dining room. He didn’t look pleased. Neither did Jo.

They were already upset about the lights. Should I tell them the rest? I didn’t think I had a choice. We were in this together. My recap went in chronological order—the tampered chair in my office, the venomous visitor in my car, and the psycho driver in the parking lot. My report to the sheriff’s office hadn’t gone well since I could barely describe the car and I hadn’t recorded the license plate.

Jo and Spence stared at me as though they’d been turned to stone. Spence regained his voice first.

“That’s it.” He crossed his arms over his chest, which was covered by a ruby cotton