“Money talks.”
“True, and to Dante it sings a sweet siren song.”
As Skye parked the Bel Air, Wally said, “I think it would be best if you questioned your aunt.”
“I agree.”
“I’ll step in when the time is right.” Wally exited the car, walked around the hood, and held out his hand to Skye.
The mayor and his wife lived in a rambling trilevel perched on the southern edge of their acreage, surrounded by a large yard studded with mature trees. Clearly someone had recently raked the lawn, because there wasn’t a leaf in sight, and Skye would bet a year’s salary that that someone was her aunt, not her uncle.
Olive opened the door within seconds of Skye’s ringing the bell. “Skye, Chief, what a surprise. Were you looking for the mayor?”
Brandy, the Leofantis’ golden retriever, stood by Olive’s side. The canine’s shiny fur lay in perfect silken order.
“No, Aunt Olive. We wanted to see you.” Skye reached down and stroked Brandy’s head. “Sorry for dropping in, but it was important to speak to you when Uncle Dante wasn’t here.”
“Why is that?” Olive’s expression was uncertain, but she motioned them inside. “Well, no matter—you’re always welcome to come by.”
“Thank you.” Skye felt terrible that they were about to accuse this sweet woman of adultery, but they had to check out anyone who had a motive to kill Suzette.
As Olive led them toward the kitchen, she said, “I hope you don’t mind if we sit in here. I’m in the middle of making dinner.”
“Great.” Wally’s smile was charming. “I always say the heart of a home is the kitchen.”
Brandy followed them, and when Skye took a seat at the table, the dog lay at her feet. She felt comforted by the animal’s presence. While Olive bustled around pouring them coffee, Skye gazed at the decor. Unlike the rest of the house, which was done in brocade and velvet, with stunning floral arrangements and beautifully framed art, the sunny yellow kitchen was cozy rather than elegant. Chintz curtains, an obviously well-used oak table and chairs, and whimsical prints on the wall all added to the warmth.
Olive placed a tray of cookies between Skye and Wally and sat down. The three of them chatted about the weather and the family for a while.
Finally, Olive glanced at the wall clock and said, “Dante will be home in twenty minutes. What did you need to talk to me about?”
Skye took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to have to bring this up, but we recently learned that many, many years ago you knew Suzette Neal’s father.” Skye paused, then said as gently as she could, “In fact, we understand that you and he were very close.”
“We were friends.” Olive stared down at her cup.
“From what we’ve been told, you were much more than friends.” Skye bit her lip. This was even harder than she’d thought it would be. “You had an affair with him. Didn’t you?”
“No. That’s ridiculous.” Olive’s fair skin became nearly translucent. “Who told you that?”
“The Neals’ cleaning lady saw you and Quentin in your car.” Skye covered her aunt’s hand with her own. “We aren’t here to judge you, but we need to know what happened back then and if it has anything to do with Suzette’s murder.”
“I was probably just giving him a ride home from choir practice.” Olive tried to smile, but her lips were trembling. “As I recall, they only had one car, and he often walked to the church so his wife could use it.”
“The cleaning lady saw you kissing him, and not on the cheek.” Skye tightened her grip on Olive’s fingers.
“She must have been mistaken.” Olive shook her head. “It was so long ago, maybe she misremembered.”
“The neighbor across the street saw you as well.” Skye knew she couldn’t let her aunt pretend the affair had never happened. “We don’t intend to share this information with Dante, or anyone else, unless it’s pertinent to Suzette’s murder.”
The ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room marked off the seconds until Olive spoke, tears in her eyes. “I loved him so much.” This time her smile was sincere and tremulous. “He was such a wonderful man. He made me feel beautiful and smart and happy.”
“Unlike Dante?” Skye murmured.
Olive nodded. “I knew what we were doing was wrong, and I never asked him to leave his family for me, but I just wanted something sweet in my life.” Olive wiped a tear from her cheek. “Even if it was only for a little while.”
“I understand. And I wouldn’t bring this up except that the neighbor who saw you kissing Quentin in the car also saw you at his house the day his wife died. In fact, just before the ambulance arrived.”
If possible, Olive’s face paled even more. She opened her mouth, but at first no words came out. After a few seconds, she said, “It really was an accident.”
“Yes,” Skye encouraged. “Tell us what happened.”
“Paulette called me and asked me to come over.” Olive gazed over Skye’s head as if looking into the past. “She said it was about a committee we were both on, but as soon as I got there she started yelling at me about the affair.”
“Then what?” Skye asked softly.
“I told her I would end it and I never meant to hurt her or her family, but she didn’t believe me.” Olive’s voice was barely audible. “I tried to explain that I was sorry, that I had just wanted a little bit of kindness and warmth, but she lunged at me. I leaped aside—I’d trained to be a ballet dancer before I married Dante—but Paulette couldn’t stop her momentum. She fell and hit her head on the corner of a marble-topped table. I couldn’t get her to wake up and there was so much blood.”
“Can you show us where all this happened?” Skye pulled the flyer with the house plan out of her tote and laid it in front of her aunt.
Olive pointed to a tiny foyer.
“Did you call an ambulance?” Skye asked.
“I was looking for the phone—you know, back then there were no cells, and most people only had one telephone in the whole house.” Olive shook her head. “But Quentin walked in the door before I found it, saw what had happened, and ordered me to leave.”
“So he took over?” Skye asked.
“Yes.” Olive put her hands over her face. “Up until then, I had no idea the twins were in the house, but he told me they were there and he’d handle everything.”
“Was Paulette alive when you left?”
“No.” Olive shook her head. “Quentin checked and said she didn’t have a pulse. He said he’d clean up the blood and put her in the bathroom so it would look as if she’d slipped in the tub.”
While Wally asked several additional questions, Skye considered what her aunt had told her and whether she believed Olive’s story. Olive had had no warning that Skye and Wally would be confronting her, and once she’d admitted to the affair, she had given her account of Paulette’s death with no hesitation.
Yes. Skye nodded to herself. She did believe her aunt. Olive had never been a good liar, and Skye was sure she would have been able to tell if her aunt hadn’t been telling the truth. What a relief that Paulette’s death was truly an accident—but what a waste of a life.
“Quentin blamed himself, you know.” Olive’s voice broke into Skye’s musings. She sounded as if she were saying aloud something she’d thought about for years. “He wasn’t the same man after that. And then, one day, he and the children were just gone.”
“One more question, Olive,” Wally said. “Did Suzette Neal contact you when she came to town?”
“No.” Olive looked surprised. “I didn’t put together who she was until after her death. Quentin always called her Suzie, and Neal is a fairly common name.”
“But you were the one who stole the contents of the police file on Paulette Neal’s accident, weren’t you?” Wally raised a brow.
Olive looked Wally in the eye. “Yes. I overheard you talking to Dante on his cell phone. You said you were
