I thought about Arthur Davenport and what people would remember about his life now that he was gone. It was clear that he was what most of us are in the end: complicated. He was obviously a hard-working physician who had touched many people’s lives through his work. But equally as obvious was that he also had some flaws that had gotten him into trouble—how much trouble was the question on my mind. Could one of Arthur’s many trysts been the reason he was murdered? There was the affair with Libby Nichols and the almost unbelievable implication about a relationship with the mayor.
It was almost unbelievable because up until a few years ago, Shaylene Lancett was a single woman who owned a religious gift and book shop called Inviting Praise on the square in downtown Tuttle. Three years ago, she’d decided to run for mayor against Gary Dubois, who’d served as mayor for the three previous terms. Largely due to Mayor Dubois’s unpopular push to move the Johnnycake Festival to the fall, Tuttle’s citizens had voted Shaylene into office on a summer-or-bust corncake mandate. And so far, so good. She was generally considered a good mayor who didn’t rock the proverbial boat too much.
Shaylene found love soon after taking office. She married Theo Gladstone just two years ago in a rather strange ceremony in Memorial Park. I knew this because my parents had been asked to play at the wedding (Shaylene and Theo’s wedding song was “The Rainbow Connection”—which is also the name of my parents’ band). I remember Mom telling me how the two of them met at special screening of the most recent Muppets movie during the summer family film series put on by the parks department. Shaylene and Theo were both of a certain age, both there alone, and both apparently huge Muppets fans. It was kismet. Their wedding had been Kermit-and-Piggy-themed down to the pink-and-green layer cake.
The idea that Shaylene Lancett was some sort of murderous ex-girlfriend of Arthur Davenport was more than a little peculiar. Had Shaylene and Arthur Davenport dated at some point? Was it before she married Theo, or could this be yet another affair? Or was this just something Libby Nichols made up to throw suspicion off herself and her husband? Those were all questions that needed answers. Lucky for me I had an entire day with which to chase them down. I knew my mom and Shaylene had kept in touch, so I texted Mom to see if she knew anything about Shaylene and Arthur. It was early, but I knew my mom never slept past seven. She called me about three seconds after I texted.
“Are you okay? Why are you asking about Shaylene and Arthur? What’s happening, Riley?”
“Calm down, Mom,” I said. “I’m writing Dr. Davenport’s obit and I’m just fact checking a few things, that’s all.” That wasn’t true, strictly speaking, but Mom had been nervous when I made the move to the newspaper and I didn’t see any reason to worry her, especially while she was out of town.
“Oh. Well, if you’re sure everything’s okay . . .”
“Yes, Mom, I’m sure. What about Shaylene and Arthur?”
“Funny you mention it, because there was some sort of issue between them,” she said. “I don’t know exactly what it was, I just remember Shaylene telling me right before the wedding that they’d been close, but he’d done something unforgiveable.”
That sounded ominous. “And she didn’t say what?”
“No,” my mom said. “I’d gone over to her house a few hours before the ceremony to go over some last-minute details and she was upset. She didn’t want to talk about it. One thing I can tell you is that she’s completely gaga over Theo. Can you imagine two people who love the Muppets that much finding each other?”
We chatted for a while longer about how things were going on their road trip, and then she put my dad on the phone, who spent at least six minutes singing the praises of Craisins. “Have you ever had one, Riley? It’s like the raisin’s bolder, tastier cousin! I can’t believe I’ve lived fifty-six years without ever having had a Craisin. Now I’ve got bags of them stashed all over the place. I’ve got Craisins in the car, in my guitar case, in my dopp kit . . .”
I love my father very much but finally had to cut him off. This kind of talk could go on for a while. “Okay, love you guys! I’ll see you when you get back, okay?”
After about ten “I love yous” and “We’re so proud of yous” later I left for work with that feeling you get when you leave for the airport and you’re sure you’ve forgotten something critical. I had my purse and my laptop, so it wasn’t that . . . could it be somebody’s birthday? I mentally scrolled through my mom, dad, Dr. H, Tabitha, Ryan . . . nope . . .
“You okay?” Flick walked up behind me and through the front door.
“I think so.” Probably just a case of having too much on my mind, I thought. I set down my bag at my cubicle and followed Flick down the hall.
As we walked into his office he said, “You’re not worried about Holman, are you?”
The question actually made me laugh. Of all the things I might currently be worried about, Holman wasn’t one of them. “Uh, no.”
He hesitated for a moment, and looked like he was working
