Her face paled further. “Oh that.”
“Yes, that.”
“I, uh, I didn’t want you to know because…” Her gaze darted nervously in every direction but mine.
“Because it makes you look guilty,” I supplied.
She gulped. “I suppose so,” she offered weakly. “But I didn’t kill him.” Her eyes swung back to mine. “The policy isn’t even that much money.”
“People have killed for less,” I said flatly.
“I didn’t kill my husband.” Patty’s voice went up an octave.
I didn’t think she did either, but unless she could prove it, she was still a suspect.
The doorbell rang.
Patty bolted from her chair, obviously eager to get away from me.
“Mrs. Henderson,” greeted a male voice. “I’m Deputy Roberts, and we need to take you to the station to ask you some questions.”
Great, the cops. At least it wasn’t Cole. I hoped.
Quickly, I grabbed the papers from the table and shoved them in my purse as a petrified Patty entered the kitchen, two deputies close on her heels.
“Charlee, I need to leave, so—”
I stood. “I understand, I’ll let myself out.”
She nodded.
“It’ll be okay, Patty,” I reassured, as I walked past her. And for her sake, I hoped it would be. Because I had a pretty strong feeling that she wasn’t the killer.
“Fern!” I yelled as I entered the house.
“I’m in the living room,” my aunt called out.
I made my way there and flopped down in the overstuffed chair next to Fern’s recliner. Her fingers were working their magic with her knitting needles while Moose purred loudly on her lap.
“The cops stopped by Patty’s to take her in for questioning.”
Fern paused from her knitting. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “But I’m sure they questioned her after Earl died, so they must have come up with new information. Maybe something to do with the insurance policy? Although, the payout coming to her isn’t that much.” I took a deep breath, contemplating what the police might want to talk with her about.
“I would bet money that Patty didn’t do it,” Fern picked up her needles again and began whatever it was she managed to do with them. I’d never been able to figure it out. My several attempts at scarf making had tried even Fern’s patience when I was a child. And Fern never got upset with me.
“What makes you say that?” I didn’t disagree with my aunt, but was curious to hear her reasoning. If it wasn’t Patty, it had to be somebody, and I was hopeful that any new detail might lead me closer to the actual killer.
“Well, for starters, I think she actually loved her husband,” Fern said in disbelief. “Don’t ask me why, because I can’t think of anything nice to say about the man other than he had a well-manicured lawn.”
“Okay, but what about a crime of passion?” I asked. “Just because she loved him doesn’t mean that she didn’t kill him in a jealous rage or something.”
Fern looked up from her knitting, wearing a baffled expression. “You’re kidding me, right? Does Patty appear to be the type of person to get that worked up over anything, let alone a jealous rage?” She laughed. “There’s not another woman on this earth who I doubt would be willing to put up with Earl. And I think Patty is squeamish around blood.”
“How do you know that?”
“Around a year ago, I was outside with my goats, when I heard shrieking next door. Earl had accidentally cut himself while doing yard work. He had a gash on his hand. Not terrible, but Patty turned white as a ghost, and had to go in the house to lay down. I think Earl drove himself to the doctor to get stitches.”
“So, you don’t think Patty would have been capable of bashing Earl over the head with a shovel a few times?”
“Heck no! I doubt she could hit anything with a shovel hard enough to do any damage.”
“I think you’re right. Nor do I think Patty is motivated by money.” I explained to Fern about the bank statements I’d gotten… okay, stolen, from Cole’s case file.
“She seemed genuinely confused, like she hadn’t seen them before, and was completely clueless as to why there would be payments from Russell.”
Fern nodded her agreement. “A woman who leaves that to her man, trusting that he’s going to take care of her, isn’t going to kill him over an insurance policy.”
“Especially one that’s only for seventy-five thousand. And even if it was more, I doubt that would matter to her. She seemed very content with their life.” My mind veered back to the payments. Something fishy was going on there. “Do you think Earl found out something about Russell, and then blackmailed him?”
Fern considered this for a minute. “That wouldn’t surprise me. Both men are kinda slimy. The question is, what could Earl have discovered to blackmail Russell with? And was it enough to kill over?”
“I don’t know.” I tried to think of possible scenarios that could have led to Earl extorting money from his former partner. Insurance fraud came to mind. I had a strong suspicion that Russell and Earl were in on that together, but of course now with Earl dead, it was easy for Russell to shift all the blame away from himself. But if they were both guilty of that, there needed to be something else.
The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll get that.” I scooted out of the chair and went to answer it.
It was Cole. And he was… smiling? I stared at him for several seconds, not quite believing what I was seeing.
“May I come in?” he asked, chuckling.
Great, I’d been caught gawking. “Yes, sorry, I was just—” I stopped, just short of saying, staring. No need to further embarrass myself.
“Is Fern here?”
“Yeah.” I led him to the living room.
“Sheriff.” Fern paused from her knitting, as she and I exchanged a look. She sensed his good mood as well, and like me, wasn’t sure what to
