Chapter 32

Maisie accompanied Arthur back to the auction house, and I heaved a sigh of relief. At least the book would be safe until it was sold.

During a lull in the afternoon, I looked up my copy of Winnie-the-Pooh. I was painfully aware that prices fluctuate but it was in great condition and valued around eight thousand dollars. A similar copy of Cocky the Lazy Rooster had sold two years before for nearly fifty thousand dollars! Dolly always had a good eye.

Now if we could just figure out who murdered her.

It bothered me that the killer had taken the time to slide the book into a grocery bag. That meant it was someone who was very comfortable in Dolly’s house. Someone who wasn’t in any hurry to get out. Her killer had ripped the book from her hands while she lay dying and had calmly slid it into a grocery bag unafraid of being caught.

I slumped onto the sofa in the reading parlor. I was a complete dolt. They had used me, and I had fallen for their bait. What an idiot I was! I should have realized that Percy couldn’t be as stupid as he seemed.

Sure, Maisie had an alibi back in South Carolina, but Percy had been right here in Washington all along. He must have paid Dolly a visit that evening. Maybe to plead for the return of The Florist. He’d brought the toxic cocktail along with him. While Dolly was dying, he ripped it from her hands, slid it into the bag, and left.

But the problem was that if Percy sold it, he would become the number one suspect in Dolly’s death. And Maisie couldn’t very well claim to have miraculously found it after the cops combed the place and I had gone through all the books. So they took a chance on me. They hadn’t forgotten to put that box of books out. They were waiting for me to do exactly what I did.

It was a no-lose situation for them. If I didn’t turn it over to Maisie, all they had to do was claim that I was the one who had stolen it. I was a patsy.

I had no idea whether Lucianne’s lawsuit had any merit, but it seemed simple enough to me. Maisie would sell the book and collect the money, while Percy filed for bankruptcy. Then the two of them would ride off into the sunset and live wealthily ever after.

Not if I could help it, they wouldn’t.

That night, over leftover sweet potato gnocchi, giant grilled shrimp, and spinach salad with bacon that Mr. DuBois had cooked for them, I told Eric and Edgar what had happened.

Eric became very serious. “So when word got out about The Florist and Lucianne told Percy how stupid he’d been to sell it, he called Maisie and cooked up this plot? Ouch, but that’s cold. Poor Dolly.”

“I just don’t know how to prove it,” I said. Looking at Edgar, I added, “Unless you saw Percy at Dolly’s house that night.”

“I didn’t know anything until I heard the ambulance pull up.”

“Phone records,” said Eric. “There have to be phone records between Percy and Maisie. He might have even texted her. People can be pretty dumb about that kind of thing.” He picked up his phone and made a call.

“When I was going through Dolly’s books, a friend of Maisie’s came by and recommended Percy to handle Dolly’s estate. Maisie acted like she didn’t remember who he was. She played her role quite well.”

I slept better that night knowing that it was Maisie and Percy that we had to watch out for. As long as they didn’t know we were onto them, we should be safe.

Of course, the issue of Veronica still remained. But once Percy was arrested, that should fall in place by itself. I wouldn’t have to be the bossy big sister.

* * *

The sun shone in my window the next morning, and I had renewed hope that the recent craziness would soon come to an end. I felt awful for Veronica. I couldn’t understand what she saw in guys like Percy.

I showered and dressed for work, but this morning I was in no hurry. Edgar and Eric were just getting up when Mr. DuBois arrived with breakfast.

“When Eric goes home, and the breakfast service ends, I’m going to be very jealous,” I said to Mr. DuBois.

He whispered, “Then I suggest you convince him to stay.”

I probably should have been put out, but I laughed. Things were looking up. We dined on crab crepes, fruit salad, and the ever-present bacon at the table in the garden. Peaches walked the perimeter of the koi pond, watching the fish and occasionally dipping her paw in the water.

Over breakfast, we told Mr. DuBois what had happened. Eric assured him that homicide had been advised and that it was in their hands now.

I left Peaches with Eric and was off to work in plenty of time to open the store. When Veronica and Bob arrived, I already had everything up and running.

“We should receive that shipment of the Dumont book today,” I said, looking at the long list of people who had requested it.

Veronica paid no attention.

“What’s wrong with you this morning?” I asked.

“Percy showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night.”

Oh noooo. “I hope you hid your good jewelry.”

“Why do you say things like that? It’s just mean, Florrie. You know what I think? You don’t like sharing me with anyone else and that’s why you hate everyone I date.”

“He’s seeing Maisie.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Veronica, I’m sorry. Really I am. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Then stop hurting me.” She marched off in a huff and avoided me all day.

At four in the afternoon, Eric called me. “Have you seen Edgar?”

“Not since I left the house this morning. Did you misplace him?”

“I’m getting worried. He went to his apartment to pick up clean clothes. He should have been back by now. He’s not answering his phone.”

Normally, I wouldn’t have been concerned, but someone had tried to choke him. I checked the time. “I’m due to deliver some books. I’ll look in on him in half an hour or so.”

Bob circled the checkout desk and faced me from the other side. “What did you do to Veronica?”

“I didn’t do anything. She just has terrible taste in men. I hope she’s not being mean to you.”

“Eh. I think she’ll be okay once you’re gone.”

I loaded the packages into a bag and felt like Santa Claus when I left the store. Most of the deliveries were close by, so the load lightened fairly fast.

Dolly’s house appeared peaceful. The estate sale items were no longer in the yard or on the sidewalk. I sidestepped the stairs to the main floor and knocked on the basement door.

Edgar didn’t answer. I tried the handle, but it was locked.

I knocked again. “Edgar? It’s Florrie.”

I stood in front of his door and called Eric. “He’s not answering his door.”

“I’m coming over there.”

“You’re supposed to stay off your leg. Besides, what are you going to do, bust the door down?”

“All right. I get what you’re saying. What time are you coming home?”

“Six o’clock.”

“Do you think I could convince DuBois to check on him?”

“I suspect he would do anything for you, but he doesn’t like leaving the safety of the Maxwell estate.”

“How does he get all this food he’s cooking for us?”

“He receives grocery deliveries at the mansion from stores all over town.”

“No wonder he likes me so much. I’m a captive audience. He must get lonely in that big house by himself.”

“I’ll see you at six.” I hung up and looked around. Out of an abundance of caution, I walked up the steps to the front door of the house. When I tried the door handle, the door swung open just like it always did.

But the house was eerily silent. I walked up to Olivia and Priss’s apartment, and knocked on the door. No one was home.

There was nothing to do but continue with my deliveries and return to the bookstore.

Veronica wasn’t speaking to me. I could only hope the police would arrest Percy soon.

When six o’clock finally rolled around, I was relieved to go home.

Until I got there.