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

“Please stop telling people Jo killed Fiona. You know that’s not true.”

Betty’s flush deepened to a painful-looking red. “I…didn’t… I never actually said she killed Fiona.”

“But you implied it.” I drew a calming breath. “I understand you being upset with me. I’m the one who’s trying to draw the deputies’ attention to other suspects for Fiona’s murder, including you and Bobby. If you truly need to strike back at someone, strike me. But leave Jo out of this. She’s innocent.”

Betty’s glare burned through her sunglasses. “So are my boy and I.”

I recalled her response during our last exchange when I’d said the same about Jo. “Well, in that case, neither you nor Bobby have anything to worry about, do you?”

She narrowed her eyes. She remembered our exchange too. “Why should I keep quiet about Jo when you’re still going around town saying things about Bobby and me?”

“I have never spread rumors about anyone in this town.” Despite my library training, it was a struggle to keep my voice low. “You’re trying to turn public opinion against Jo, but this isn’t a popularity contest. The person with the most likes doesn’t win. This is a murder investigation. We’re trying to protect Peach Coast and get justice for Fiona.”

Betty had the decency to lower her gaze. She removed her sunglasses. “Fiona and I never had a kind word to say about each other.”

That was true of Betty. I didn’t have evidence Fiona had spoken ill of the other woman—unless you looked closely at the plot of Fiona’s story. “Do you think that’s why she wrote her book? Was she trying to discredit you?”

Betty’s flushed and sweaty cheeks paled. Her eyes grew mean. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know.” I stripped all inflection from my voice. “Fiona’s story is about a woman who suspects her husband’s first wife killed him and staged it to look like a heart attack. Were you concerned some people might take that to mean you had something to do with Buddy’s death?”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Buddy’s death.” Betty lifted eyebrows she’d plucked to within an inch of their lives. “What would I have gained from killing him? He’d already divorced me. Fiona was the one who stood to gain from his death.”

“And Bobby. Buddy left him a trust fund.”

“Leave my boy out of this.” Her words were clipped and angry. She used the pads of her fingers to swipe the sweat from her hairline. She really did look overheated.

“Why did you go to Fiona’s signing? It was obvious you were angry with her. Did you intend to confront her about her story?”

“Have you forgotten Fiona was probably dead already by the time I got there?” Betty hooked her hands on her hips. Her voice was a low hiss. “What’s supposed to have happened, huh? I killed her, went home, cleaned up, then went back to the bookstore?”

“Yes.” Okay, it sounded crazy, but that was the only way it could’ve happened. Jo was innocent.

“That makes no sense.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, it was Saturday.” Betty’s triumphant shout drew the disapproving attention of several nearby library guests, as well as Danny, who was restocking a bookcase.

“And?” I didn’t even attempt to mask my confusion.

Betty gave me a smug smile. “I couldn’t have killed Fiona. Saturday is my cleaning day.” She announced this as though it was the eleventh commandment.

Somehow, I didn’t think it would hold up in court. Betty would remain on my suspect list.

Chapter 17

I spotted Bobby through the library’s front picture window. He was leaning against a small dark sedan parked at the curb. His arms and legs were crossed in a pose that denoted he expected to be waiting for a while. I made another detour on my way back to my office, postponing lunch a few minutes more.

A quick check over my shoulder confirmed Betty was still contemplating Fiona’s book. If she decided to borrow the mystery, I’d have at least a few minutes with Bobby. If not…well, I’d figure out some way to smooth things over with her if she caught me questioning her son.

I pushed through the double glass doors of the library’s main entrance and was hit by a blast of warm air heavy with moisture from the nearby coast.

I approached Bobby with a smile. “You didn’t want to come in?”

Bobby’s smile was full of boyish charm and subtle humor. His dark blue jeans, ice-blue short-sleeved shirt, and matching baseball cap looked more like a uniform than casual wear. “Mama wanted me to wait out here. Guess she doesn’t want me to see her borrowing Fiona’s book.”

Surprised laughter burst from me. I glanced over my shoulder before turning back to Bobby. “So you know about that.”

His only response was a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“I suppose Betty doesn’t want anyone—not even you—to know she’s curious about Fiona’s book. Have you read it?” I studied his tan, blunt features. The brim of his cap shadowed his hazel brown eyes. His thick black hair hung a little long in the back.

It occurred to me I’d never seen a picture of Buddy Hayes. Bobby didn’t look much like Betty, so he must favor his father. In that case, I could understand why Fiona would go after the man and why Betty resented the heck out of the woman for luring him away from her. Bobby was a handsome young man.

His smile remained in place as he returned my steady gaze. It felt as though he was determining how best to answer my question. “I have a copy. I’m not much of a reader, though.” His shrug managed to convey both apology and humor.

My eyebrows knitted. “Why did you buy the book then?”

Bobby answered with another shrug.

I gave him a considering look. He wasn’t much of a talker, either. “Does Betty know you have a copy of Fiona’s book?”

“No, ma’am.”

I didn’t think so. If I were him, I wouldn’t have told her, either. She wouldn’t be pleased. “Do you know what the