“Maybe Buddy tried.”
“He should’ve tried harder.” Willy’s piercing gray eyes burned with anger and outrage for his friend. “Hayes was her husband and, according to Fiona, a prominent member of this community. He should’ve done more to protect her from Ms. Betty’s slander.”
Willy’s temper was like a thick wall between us. I was reluctant to push him while he was grieving, but the clock was ticking, and I needed answers. “Did Fiona ever say anything that led you to believe Betty’s gossip was putting her life in danger?”
“All I’m saying is that if he truly loved Fiona, Hayes wouldn’t have allowed his ex-wife and son to spread malicious lies about her.” A scathing expression settled on his face as he looked at the other customers. “Other people will believe what they want to believe about Fiona. I choose to remember only the good things about her.”
“But Fiona never actually said she felt threatened by Betty and Bobby?”
“People were often jealous of her success, but she worked hard for everything she had. I told that to the deputies.”
“Do you think Fiona was killed by someone who was jealous of her?” I searched Willy’s eyes, trying to gain insight into Fiona’s impassioned friend. He wasn’t giving me much.
His lips thinned. “Jealousy’s an ugly emotion.”
On that, Willy and I agreed. The librarians also had identified jealousy as a motive for Fiona’s killer. So far, the only person to whom we could attribute that motive was Betty. Now didn’t seem to be the time to share that information with Willy, though.
“Did Fiona confide in you any problems she was having in town?”
Willy gave me a sarcastic look. “Besides with Ms. Betty and Bobby? Fiona wasn’t much of a talker. She didn’t like to complain, but I had the feeling her marriage wasn’t happy.”
This was new intel. “What gave you that idea?”
Willy paused as though he wasn’t certain he should confide in me. I did my best to look trustworthy. “Before Hayes died, Fiona called me. She wanted legal advice about getting a divorce. Hayes had a lot of cash flow problems, and she was tired of him treating her like the First National Bank of Buddy.”
“Why would Buddy need Fiona’s money? I thought he was a wealthy and successful real estate agent who’d left a trust fund for his son?”
“That’s what Hayes wanted everybody to believe, but the truth was something very different.”
Perhaps Corrinne had been right. Could Buddy have been in financial distress toward the end of his life? Would Fiona have wanted a divorce if he had been?
“And then Buddy died.” I prompted Willy to keep the conversation moving.
Willy drank more coffee. “His death was unexpected. I believe it was a heart attack. But Fiona told me Ms. Betty and Bobby were going around town, claiming he didn’t have any of the risks associated with heart attacks.”
“Do Betty and Bobby think Fiona killed Buddy?” My team of intrepid librarians hadn’t told me that.
Willy nodded. “That’s what they were implying. And now someone has killed Fiona.”
In his eyes, I read the same question that flashed in big neon lights across my mind: were the two deaths related?
Chapter 13
“The deputies weren’t interested in our leads for other suspects in Fiona’s murder.” Spence joined Jo and me for lunch on Tuesday as we’d arranged. We’d found a cozy table for four in a quiet corner of On A Roll, separate from most of the other diners.
Several people already had made a detour toward us to offer Jo words of encouragement and support. Contrary to her fears, these University of Georgia Bulldog fans had accepted their University of Florida Gator neighbor.
It was a well-known secret the deputies were focusing their investigation on Jo. Despite that, the small town was rallying around my new friend. Their reactions touched my heart. It showed how much she meant to the community that meant so much to her. I was relieved, for Jo and for myself. I hadn’t wanted to accept that my neighbors could believe my friend was capable of killing someone. Their show of support bolstered my confidence that I could make a home here—tennis shoes, coke, peach cobbler, and all.
Now if I could just convince Phoenix…
“Did you speak with both deputies Whatley and Cole?” Jo’s voice cracked as she seemed to struggle under this setback. “What did they say?”
Spence’s dark eyes softened with sympathy. “They said they’d questioned Ms. Betty, Bobby, and Ms. Zelda the afternoon of the signing, and their alibis had all checked out.”
My disappointment was almost overwhelming. “We’re Jo’s alibis. We checked out too. So could they tell you why she’s still under suspicion?”
“The deputies think Jo’s a stronger suspect than the other three.” Spence gave her an apologetic look. “You were the last person to see Fiona alive. They also think you could’ve disposed of the bloody clothes and the murder weapon more easily than our suspects. Because of that, they said you’re their primary suspect.”
Color drained from Jo’s face.
I fisted my hands beside my blackened chicken salad. “Will they at least add the others to their list?”
Spence sighed his regret. “They didn’t say no, but they didn’t appear inclined to.”
Jo stared down at her chicken noodle soup. “And in the meantime, I have a murder charge hanging over my head, and foot traffic at the store has dropped off.”
The sensation of being watched made my skin itch. My attention drifted from Jo to an older woman sitting alone at a small table diagonally in front of us. Delores Polly was the administrative assistant at St. Michael Catholic Church. She also accompanied the choir on the piano sometimes during the Saturday evening Mass.
Delores was dressed quietly and conservatively in a plain peach dress with a modest neckline and tight sleeves. Her thick, round glasses masked half of her face and magnified her serious gray eyes. I smiled at her in greeting. Delores narrowed her gaze at
