Murder by Page One Olivia Matthews (best e ink reader for manga .txt) 📖

Dabney grunted and spoke around a mouthful of pastry. “She was a stuck-up—”

Etta interrupted, speaking in a stage whisper. “It’s not proper to speak ill of the dead, but since you asked, Fiona had broken up a happy family. Everybody knew she was only interested in marrying Buddy Hayes for his money. Fiona Lyle-Hayes was a home-wrecking gold digger.”

I blinked at Etta’s vehemence. “Well, I did ask.”

Anna May put my warm peach cobbler in a small cardboard box. “Rumor is the deputies suspect Jo Gomez may have killed her.” Her eyes scanned my face as though searching for a tell.

That stirred my protective instincts. “No, that’s not possible. Jo was with her employees preparing for the book signing when Fiona was killed. Spence and I both saw her.”

“That’s what she wants us to believe.” Dabney finished off Etta’s pastry.

I started to respond to Dabney’s comment, but Etta spoke first.

“Imagine, a murderer running around loose in Peach Coast.” Her nervous gaze inspected the other coffee shop patrons. “It’s very upsetting.”

“Only if the killer’s going to kill again.” Dabney’s tone was trivializing. “Chances are he was only after Fiona.”

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

“This isn’t the big city.” Dabney waved a hand as though to encompass the town beyond the shop. “People don’t go around willy-nilly killing each other. The killer must’ve targeted Fiona for a reason.”

His reasoning seemed to further clear Jo. I lowered my voice again. “Who do you think would have the strongest motive?”

Dabney grunted, adding a shrug for good measure. “Who wouldn’t?” he whispered back.

Chapter 7

As I walked to work the next morning, the wide red brick sidewalk was sprinkled with other pedestrians. Cozy businesses and quaint shops were preparing for the day in their own Peach Coast style. I was growing to love the little town with its towering sweetgum trees and easy approach to time.

A cheeky feminine voice hailed me from the other side of Peach Blossom Boulevard. “Happy Monday, Marvey!”

The broad asphalt street was a major thoroughfare in the small town. Five vehicles comprised this morning’s rush hour. I waited for them to roll past before responding to June Bishop. “Happy Monday, June. Your display windows are gorgeous.”

The owner of Petals Palooza, the local flower shop, glowed in response to my praise. The vibrant rose and whimsical flower arrangements posing in the front windows were striking. I sensed they had a story to tell.

“Thank you!” June’s laughter bubbled up, shortening the distance between us. Her thick blond braid swept her shoulder blades as she split her attention between me and the windows. Her floral-patterned dress floated around her. She hooked her hands on her hips. “And thanks again for the book recommendation. I had no idea I’d enjoy romantic comedies.”

Ah, but I had. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” With a final wave, I continued on to the library.

“Marvey, good morning!” Lonnie Norman popped out from behind the signage he was arranging in front of his pet store, Paw Babies & More. He ran a hand over his thinning dark brown hair. “How’re you today?”

“Lonnie.” I lifted a hand in greeting. “I’m so glad I ran into you. Could you recommend another vet for me?”

Lonnie adjusted the waistband of his baggy beige pants over his stocky hips. His pale round features tightened, and his light brown eyes behind his rimless glasses widened with concern. “Is Phoenix still feeling poorly?”

“He’s just not himself. The first vet you referred us to has already examined him twice. He insists Phoenix is fine. But something still seems…wrong.”

Lonnie crossed his arms over his matching beige shirt with its Paw Babies & More logo on its upper right pocket. After a moment, he pulled his wallet from his front pants pocket, dug out a business card, and offered it to me. “Doctor Dahlia Sensor has a popular practice. She’s not taking new patients, but tell her we’re friends. I’ll give her a call too. She may be able to fit Phoenix in for an examination.”

Relief and hope eased the pressure from my shoulders. I tucked the card into my purse for safekeeping. “Thank you so much, Lonnie.”

After promising to keep him apprised of Phoenix’s condition, I continued on to the library. Strolling to work along the spacious Peach Blossom Boulevard sure beat commuting on the packed-in number five train.

The renovated building that housed the Peach Coast Library had once been a bus depot, arranging for residents as well as tourists to travel around town and along the coast. This seemed absolutely perfect, since books themselves had the power to transport readers to other locations, real and imaginary, past, present, and future.

As I entered the library Monday morning, the low heels of my black pumps tapped across the marbled gray linoleum. I took in the modest space with affection. The head librarian and my immediate supervisor, Corrinne Carpenter, had explained that very little restructuring had been needed to transform the decades-old depot into the five-year-old library. There was charm in the aged woodwork that molded the doorways and windows. The smell of freshly printed pages spun around the room, playing with the scent of lemon wood polish that lingered from the building’s past.

The large picture windows allowed plenty of natural light. They framed the library’s landscaping like living pictures. The spacious waiting area now featured a reference librarian’s desk, displays of new materials, and modern silver metal shelves full of books, magazines, compact discs, and digital video discs.

It tickled me to know the intricate weathered oak circulation desk had once served as the counter where customers had purchased their travel tickets. Offices for the library’s managers and the little staff breakroom were secreted in the area beyond the desk.

I’d just left a message with Dr. Sensor’s office about an appointment for Phoenix when Vivian Lui, our circulation librarian, and Adrian Hobbs, our librarian assistant, rushed into my office.

“Oh, my goodness, Marvey. We read about Fiona Lyle-Hayes’s murder.” Viv’s ebony eyes were wide