“Hmm. Does that look like a puncture mark?” Beau repeated, studying the screen. “Maybe. But before you get your hopes up, Mayor Bob’s office was unsealed this morning. Acting Mayor Lydell-Waite requested it personally. Anyone could have tampered with the creamer at any time before or after his death. No chain of custody means they can’t be used as evidence.”
I grudgingly agreed that crime scene tape right down the hall from where the mayor’s service was being held was unseemly, but in having it removed, Leanna unknowingly—or knowingly—ensured that the creamer cups Uncle Calvin and I had found in the mini-fridge didn’t prove a thing.
“Don’t worry, Junebug,” Beau said, placing one hand on my shoulder. “We’ll catch the killer.” He paused, then clarified. “And by ‘we’, I mean the C.R.P.D. Not you.”
“Right,” I agreed.
He pursed his lips. Clearly, he didn’t believe me. I didn’t blame him. I guess we both had trust issues with each other. “I’ve got to get back to work. Stay out of trouble?”
I nodded. “Yup.” He walked back the way we came from. I continued following the trail as it led back to the house, over perfectly manicured lawns. I paused to admire the award-winning rose bushes ringing the porch, and caught a glimpse of Faye Bobbert framed in one of the large windows.
The widow looked regal in a black dress and matching black hat pinned to her hair. She was surrounded by familiar faces, most of whom were on Maggie’s suspect list.
Jen Rachet and Leanna Lydell-Waite both had access to chemicals containing cyanide from their recent photography class. Leanna would have had easy access to syringes during her last round of IVF, and she was in Town Hall on Saturday morning, but she had no reason to kill the mayor. Jen didn’t have a reason to keep syringes on hand, and I assumed she was busy at the festival Saturday morning. As far as I could tell, the only reason she was involved at all was because she had to be at the center of everything.
Faye had to have needles in the house to go with the insulin I’d seen in the fridge, but she had an alibi and no access to poison. Marcus could have bought a container full of cyanide-laden pesticides to clear out Rawlings Hollow and no one would have batted an eye, but I’d seen him with my own eyes at the park that morning. As for Pete, I had no idea if he had access to needles or poison, but like Leanna, he was in Town Hall when Bob was killed.
I climbed the steps and made my way through the crowd, ignoring the suspicious glances thrown my way. “That was a lovely service,” Mom was saying as I joined the clump of mourners surrounding Faye. Marcus had his arm around Mom’s back.
“Thank you, dear,” Faye said. Her voice wavered, and my heart went out to the widow. It couldn’t be easy keeping it together in front of all these people after what she’d just been through. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”
“Everything was perfect,” Jen assured her. “He died doing what he loved. It was only fitting to hold Mayor Bob’s service at Town Hall.”
“Despite his promise that this year’s election would be his last, I always said that Bob would work until the day he dropped. I just wasn’t expecting him to be so literal about it,” Faye said, a hint of bitterness leaking into her voice. “I tried for years to convince him to retire, but you know Bob. He didn’t know when to walk away.” She looked around the crowded living room, meticulously decorated with her prized roses in crystal vases on every table, next to abandoned cups. “Although, I suppose, maybe this is a sign. No one lives forever, and I’m not getting any younger. Maybe it is time to move on.”
“You can’t be serious,” Mom said. “You’re really considering leaving Cedar River?”
“I suppose change is inevitable, whether we’re ready for it or not,” Faye replied sagely.
“That seems a little callous for someone who just lost their husband,” Jen said defensively. I gave her a sideways glance. Jen was the one spreading rumors that Tansy and Bob had a romantic connection, but what if she was just trying to throw suspicion off herself? She was much closer to Mayor Bob’s age. She was single. She seemed at home inside the Bobbert’s house. If anyone was having an affair, Jen would be at the top of my suspects list.
“Oh for Pete’s sake, Jen, how would you know?” Faye snapped. “I’ve been married to that man since the seventies. Am I gonna miss him? Of course! Was our marriage perfect? Not even close. You of all people should understand that.” She glared at Jen Rachet, confirming my suspicions that Jen and Mayor Bob might have had secrets of their own.
“Why, I never!” Jen exclaimed.
“Save it,” Faye said, cutting her off. “Have I even thought about killing Bob myself once or twice? Guilty as charged. Good thing that unlike Tansy Jessup, I was on the other side of the country when he kicked the bucket.”
Jen let out an exaggerated gasp. “My word,” she said. “Have some respect.”
“Respect?” Faye asked angrily. “Do you have any idea what I put up with, being married to that man? First, he drags me to Texas, of all places. Texas! Then he quits practicing law, cutting his salary in half so he could run for mayor. I pinch pennies. I make it work. Even when I find out he’s been stepping out on me, I forgive him, for the sake of our family. But then I find out he’d drained our savings buying those puerile trinkets of his. Worthless old maps. Useless ledgers from the fifties. Silly bluebonnet paperweights.”
“Hey, those weren’t worthless,” Marcus said. “They were priceless.”
“You know what’s priceless?” the widow replied. “Freedom. Retirement. The prize at the end of the day. But what am I left with? Nothing. When he declared he was running for another term as mayor, I made up my mind. Fifty years was enough. I was cashing in and retiring, with or without him. Then I found out he’d mortgaged our home. Our home! The only thing we had left worth a nickel was Bob’s life insurance, and good golly if he didn’t do me a huge favor when he dropped dead.”
“Faye, you didn’t, um, do anything to Bob, did you?” my mother asked in the tone of voice she used on me when I’d misbehaved as a kid. I’d heard that tone an awful lot, come to think of it.
“Don’t be silly, Bea,” the widow replied. “Bob was never in the best of health. After he got diagnosed with diabetes, I tried to get him to cut back on sugar, but he never could stick to a diet. He was one candy bar away from an early grave. Besides, I was on a cruise ship in Alaska when he died, remember?”
“Yes, you certainly were,” I said. Everything fit. The suspect with the most to gain from Mayor Bob’s death was the only one with a rock-solid alibi. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have plenty of opportunity. “You were four thousand miles away. You couldn’t have possibly killed your husband.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Except, you doctored his amaretto creamer with cyanide before you left on your cruise.” There were more gasps this time, but none of them fake like Jen’s earlier reaction.
“Why, I never,” Faye Bobbert said, drawing herself up to full height. Any pretense of being a grieving widow was gone as her face twisted with anger. “Juniper Jessup, you will leave my house right now.” She turned to my mother and shook her head. “Bea, I thought you would have raised your daughters better.”
“Oh, I raised my daughters just fine,” Mom replied, looking horror-struck as she realized the lengths Faye had gone to. “Juni turned out a whole lot better than you did.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud to be my mother’s daughter. I felt a hand on my shoulder, as Beau joined us. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention and said, “Mrs. Bobbert, I need a word with you down at the station.”
“Not you too! I have half a mind to press charges against the lot of you. Juni, her meddling sisters, her mom—yes, you too, Bea—and the Cedar River Police Department. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”
“About that,” Beau said. He held up a gallon jug attached to a spray nozzle. “If I test this homemade weed killer I found out back, and it comes up as a match to the poison we found in the mayor’s coffee, you’re gonna need that lawyer, ma’am.” He turned to Jayden, who had followed him. “Why don’t you escort Mrs. Bobbert out to your car?” he asked.