The next day, Cooper was doing yard work around the house and Willie was helping him. I had actually offered to help, but both of them said they didn't need me, and I wasn't going to offer twice. I had called Katy and asked her if she wanted to meet up for coffee, but she was at the salon doing a deep clean. Which reminded me that I had to tackle a deep clean at Petal Pushers myself before my mom came home.
Even though Petal Pushers was officially and legally mine, I knew when my mom came home after being gone so long, she would do a walk-through in the shop doing a white glove test. Probably not literally, but she didn’t need white gloves to check up on my cleaning.
I decided I should stop by Dale's and talk to him first. I wanted to talk about what I'd heard about the insurance policy. I thought about calling him but didn’t want to give him a chance to say no. He still hadn't told me when the funeral was happening, and it had been almost a week since I had last talked to him. I headed to Betty’s, not wanting to show up at Dale’s empty handed. When I got there, I parked and grabbed my wallet. Luckily, there wasn’t that long of a line, considering it was Sunday and people often came in after church.
"Good morning, Presley," Betty said from behind the counter with a big smile on her face like she always did. "The usual?"
"Yes, but also, do you have any idea what Dale Meriwether drinks? Does he ever come in?" I couldn’t imagine someone not wanting lattes and pastries from Betty's, but I was sure it happened.
"He gets a large coffee with a splash of cream and two sugars, and he loves my blueberry scones."
"Who doesn’t love your blueberry scones?”
“True. They are delicious.”
“I’ll take a scone as well.”
Betty nodded and rang me up. As she swiped my credit card, she gave me a knowing look.
"Are you trying to figure out who killed Susan?" she asked as she handed me my credit card back and started making my latte.
"I'm just helping, that's all."
Betty snorted. “Does Sheriff Blackford know you’re helping?"
"Well, as a matter of fact, he does. He actually came into the shop and asked me what I had heard."
"Are you sure he didn't just do that because he knows you are nosy?" she teased.
"Okay, that might be part of it, but maybe he's finally realizing I can be a very valuable asset."
"Then maybe you should apply to the police academy and not work at the flower shop."
"Tempting, but that wouldn't go over well with Cooper. And believe it or not, I'm enjoying the flower shop a lot more than I expected."
"I'm sure your mom will be happy to hear that since she’ll be back soon."
I didn't even ask Betty how she’d heard that, because I knew that my mom talked to people in Hunter's Hollow and the news would've made the rounds. Betty finished making my latte and Dale's coffee and put our pastries in a bag to go.
"Thanks, Betty," I said.
"If I was a betting woman, I would put my money on one of those moms she turned in to CPS. Don’t mess with someone’s kid or mama bear comes out.”
"You heard about that?"
"Honey, I hear about everything. You should know that by now."
"Good point, Betty. Have a great day," I said and headed out with the goodies.
A few minutes later I was knocking on Dale's door. He flung the door open, a sour look on his face.
"Oh, Presley. I didn't expect you to stop by,” he said, trying to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
"I hope it's okay I didn't call first. But I did bring you coffee and a scone from Betty's," I said, seeing his eyes light up as he eyed the bag of goodies.
"A blueberry scone?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Those are my favorite. Come in, come in," he said.
He led me into the living room, which was done in a loud floral pattern, probably circa nineteen ninety-something. It was a little loud for my tastes, but it was pretty. The floral pattern didn’t surprise me.
We set our things on the table and Dale took a scone out of the bag. He picked up his coffee, leaning back on the couch opposite of where I was sitting in an overstuffed recliner.
"What brings you by? I'm sure it wasn't just to bring me my favorite pastry."
"No, it wasn't," I answered honestly. I was pretty sure that no matter how I brought up why I had stopped by, he was going to be angry, or at least defensive. There was no good way to bring up something like this.
"Dale, I heard through the grapevine that you and Susan had taken out life insurance policies on one another."
"So? What’s your point? We are of a certain age and people take out life insurance policies all the time."
"That's true. But you and Susan each took out two hundred and fifty thousand dollars policies and then you went back and upped Susan's to one million dollars." I took a sip of my latte, letting that sink in for a minute.
Dale didn't respond right away but I could see his face turning red, and I wasn't exactly sure if it was because he was angry or nervous. Probably both.
"I don't know what you are trying to get at, Presley," he said in a clipped tone.
"I'm not trying to get to anything. I'm just saying in light of some of the financial issues I heard you were having, it just seems interesting that you took out seven hundred fifty thousand dollars more on her than she had on you, and two weeks later she turned up dead.”
"Is that what people are saying? That I killed Susan for the insurance money?"
Of course people were, but before I could say anything he jumped up, his coffee sloshing over the side a little bit.
"I loved my Susan," he said, stabbing his finger in my direction. “I would never do anything to her."
"You can admit it does look a little suspicious," I had to say, because it did. There were many Lifetime movies that would tell you that. "Tell me, why did you take out that extra insurance money? Did Susan even know?"
"I am not even going to answer that. How dare you come into my house and accuse me of killing my wife for insurance money?"
"Dale, I'm just trying to help. If there is a legitimate reason that you did that, just tell me. I can help spread the word when people bring it up,” I said in a soothing tone to try and keep him calm.
Dale seemed to calm down just a little, and I was even more curious as to why he would have done that and why it seemed like such a big deal to answer. He had to know it would come up. The police might have already asked him this same question.
I thought if I waited him out, he would tell me, but it didn't happen.
"Presley, I think you need to leave."
"Dale, I'm just trying to help."
"Well, you're not. Please leave and don't come back."
As he ushered me out of the house, I couldn't help but think I originally didn't think Dale had done anything to harm his wife, but for him not to want to come clean as to why he’d increased her life insurance that much, put him right in the number one suspect spot.