Publishable By Death by Andi Cumbo-Floyd (reading like a writer TXT) 📖

art – that’s almost better than the $4,283 we raised for the scholarship fund.”

I dropped into the arm chair next to the Eastern Shore history shelf. “Whoa. That’s a lot of money.”

“Yep. Most of it came from book sales, but a few people gave a little extra.” Lucas pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and showed it to me, careful to keep his body between the window and the money. “I’ll take it to the sheriff’s department in the morning, but for now, I think we’re headed home . . . unless you need us to help with anything?”

“Like figuring out a motive,” Cate piped in.

I sighed. “Oh, thanks, guys, but honestly, at this point, I’m too tired. I really wanted to figure this out for the sheriff, save him the work, but I’m at a loss. I’ll just call him in the morning.”

Cate hugged me again. “Sounds wise, Harvey. Sounds very wise. Get on home and get some rest.”

I locked the door behind them and finished my count. I had just returned to the chair by the fiction section – a seat that was quickly becoming my favorite – when I heard another knock at the door. “I’ll get it. You rest,” Daniel said to me as he stepped around the shelf to look toward the front of the store. “It’s Elle. I’ll take the dogs for a walk while you two talk for a few minutes, see if you can piece anything together.”

“Okay, sounds good. But come back quickly will you? I’m tuckered and ready to go home.”

He leaned down and kissed my cheek before heading to let Elle in. I heard the tinkle of the bell and the jingle of the dogs’ tags as he slipped out.

Elle looked more composed than she had earlier, and I was glad to see it. I stood up and gestured to the comfy chair, but she pulled over the wingback from the history section and plopped into it.

“Long day, huh?” I asked as I settled back into my seat, tucking my feet under me.

“So long . . . it was great in terms of business. I sold out of everything except for a few bunches of Dusty Miller that no one but a florist really knows how to use.” She let out a long sigh. “But in terms of Divina, I don’t even know what to do.”

I let out my own matching exhale and nodded.

“How did she seem with your explanation about what I meant about her knowing what she did?”

I thought back over that conversation, somehow less convinced than I had been that I’d gotten through to her. I didn’t think it would help Elle to know that though, so I said, “I think she heard me, probably believed me, too. When I left her, she sounded like she was going to let things go.”

Elle let her head fall back. “Okay, good. At least she doesn’t know we’re on to her.” Her head snapped forward. “But what do we do now?”

“We tell the sheriff. First thing tomorrow, you and I go in and tell him what we know, and we let him take it from there.” I felt disappointed, but also relieved with that decision. I still wanted to spare him the work – and I really wanted to satisfy my own curiosity about Divina’s motive – but none of that justified letting a murderer be free any longer.

“Sounds like a good plan.” She stood up. “I forgot to ask. Things go okay here?”

I stood alongside her and heard the doorbell ring as Daniel came back. “They did. We raised a lot of money for the scholarship fund, and I think the shop did really well, too.”

I started to walk her to the door, but as we stepped around the local history shelf, we met the muzzle of a shotgun. Behind it, Divina Stevensmith was steady as an ocean breeze. “I think we have something to discuss, ladies.”

I tried to step toward the front of the store, but Divina swung her shotgun and herded me back before putting herself between me and the front door. Then, she started walking forward as Elle and I slowly stepped backward, trying not to trip over dog beds or bump into bookshelves. The whole time I was hoping that Divina had locked the front door so that Daniel wouldn’t come in and get himself shot while I also tried to figure out how to call for help.

“We’re just going to have a conversation, be sure we’re clear on some things.” As soon as we reached the bathroom doors, Divina stopped. She pointed the gun right into Elle’s face and said, “You just had to be nosy.” Then, she swung the barrel until it grazed my nose, “And you just had to be kind. If you’d both minded your own business, this would all be behind us. Now, I have to sully Berkeley’s place again.”

My brain wasn’t really firing correctly, but I did manage to say, “Divina, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She moved the barrel down and shoved it into my sternum. “Stop it. Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you. You know I killed Lucia and Deputy Williams, God rest her soul. Poor woman. If she hadn’t come patrolling that night . . .”

I still was having trouble forming complete thoughts, but something clicked, and I could picture Divina there at the back of the shop with a sage smudging stick as Deputy Williams came around the building.

“I might have been able to get her to leave if I’d just told her the truth, but I couldn’t. And then she started asking a lot of questions . . . about Lucia and the umbrella. I didn’t know she knew about the umbrella.” She looked like she might cry for a split second, but then, a wash of determination came over her face. “I did what I had to do. Berkeley’s place had to be cleansed, and I couldn’t let her take me away before I finished.”

Elle grabbed my hand, and I tried to focus on her touch so that it would let my brain work behind the scenes of my fear. “So you were smudging the place Berkeley died? The place those hateful people killed him, trying to purify his shop.” I wasn’t sure I knew what I was talking about, but I must have been close because Divina’s face crumpled.

“This place was a safe haven. It was pure, untainted.” She took a shuddering breath, and then her voice was cold as steel, “but those monsters, they stole Berkeley and they ruined this building.”

“Oh, Divina, that’s awful.” I didn’t have to work hard to feign sympathy. I could see her there as a young woman, hiding in the bushes while her husband was murdered. “But Divina, why didn’t you seek justice then? Why not go to the police with what you knew?”

Her eyes locked on mine. “You think I didn’t try that. Of course I tried that, but our marriage was illegal . . . so no one had to listen to me as his wife.” Her voice broke then. “Besides, one of the men who killed Berkeley . . . “ Her jaw was so tight I thought she might break her teeth.

“One of them was a police officer,” Elle’s voice was very quiet.

Divina nodded, and I felt a tug to go hug her. The shotgun shut down that impulse though.

“I knew there would never be justice. I just tried to tamp it down, let it go like people said to do. And I thought I had . . . “

I willed myself to make the connection, to figure out what all this had to do with the fact that she had murdered her daughter, but I couldn’t tie it together.

Elle got it, though. “Then, your daughter wrote those horrible things about Harriet Tubman, another hero who provided safe haven for travelers.”

Elle was far better than me under pressure. She’d put it together. All of Divina’s suppressed trauma and rage had come boiling out when she’d seen her daughter’s hateful comments about the hero who had helped found the Underground Railroad.

“I couldn’t believe any child of mine would be so ignorant.” She shook her head violently. “I tried to talk to her, explain, tell her about Berkeley, but she was so arrogant. She just kept waving around those sheets of horrid orange paper that she used for her notes, telling me that she was just offering an ‘alternative perspective.’”

I slipped my hand around the wall, easing it upward ever so slowly.

“Before I knew it, the umbrella was in my hand, and—”

“You didn’t mean to kill her,” Elle said, giving my hand a squeeze.

Divina’s eyes were blazing. “Of course, I didn’t. The umbrella was heavier than I thought . . . and I was so angry.”

I kept inching my fingers upward and feeling for the alarm keypad.

“Before I could help her, she came in here, and I couldn’t force myself to follow her. I thought she’d be okay, wake up the next day with a nasty headache but be okay.”

Elle started to step forward with her right hand out, but Divina whipped the shotgun up again. I froze, my finger just at the bottom of the keypad.

“Now, though, I need to finish what I started. Get things tidied up.” She looked around the store. “You’ve done a good job here, Harvey— Wait! What are you doing? Don’t move a muscle.”

She stalked over to me and grabbed my left arm. Then, she sighed. “Into the storeroom. Both of you.”

I wasn’t willing to take my eyes off Divina, and apparently Elle had the same thought because we inched our way backward again. I stepped back through the doorway first, and then Elle followed after me. Divina closed the door behind her and then leaned back against it, her breathing heavy.

I was desperate. I needed to keep her talking. “You know this is where Lucia died. I know you know that. And Deputy Williams died just behind here. You’re back there smudging the bathroom door, smudging the bathroom over