Page 48 of Murder By the Millions
“There could be. My grandfather was a terrible hoarder. There are dozens of unmarked boxes, which I keep promising to sort through, but I never find the time.” She moaned softly. “I worried something like this might happen to Mr. Gardner. He was making enemies left and right. I hoped the town would see the light and prevent him from getting the properties, and then it would—”
“Cede the properties to the preservation society.”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice. “Who killed him? Do the police know? The vitriol from the likes of Ignatius Luckenbill toward him was intolerable.”
From you, as well,I thought.
“Come with me.” She guided me into the living room and ushered me to the right, out of earshot of anyone who might work at the museum. “I know I was rather vocal about my desires at Ragamuffin on Sunday, and I’m ashamed to say I locked horns with Jason Gardner publicly after that. He’d come into the museum, probing for answers about the Yeagers, the family who previously owned the houses.”
“They owned all of them?”
“All.” She sighed. “He asked direct questions until his curiosity began to irk me. You see, Cora Yeager happened to bemy mother’s best friend. When I asked him why he wanted to know, he shrugged and said, ‘No reason,’ but I could tell he was fishing.”
“She might have been a friend of his parents.”
“I doubt it. They would’ve been at least two decades apart. But possibly she had been his parents’ nemesis. Cora had a way about her, Mother said. She irked a lot of people. I kept thinking Jason might intend to trash Cora’s name, thus pitting the town against the need to protect the properties. If I’m honest”—Reika toyed with the centermost bead of her necklace— “I didn’t want him, in particular, to have the property, because he wanted to build a mall.”
“I know.”
“In fact, I was so dismayed by his plan, I sent him vicious texts and emails.”
Texts and emails didn’t kill people.
“How I wish I could erase them from the stratosphere.” She swiped the air with a hand. “Wouldn’t it be magical if we could? You know the kinds of messages I’m talking about, like the ones you send at two a.m. and rue until the day you die?”
I’d sent a few of those to my ex-fiancé.
“But there are all sorts of people I disagree with,” she went on, “and they’ve received the same kinds of messages from me. I can be quite prickly. At least I’m consistent in that regard.” She shook her head. “Poor, poor Mr. Gardner.”
“Jason,” I murmured. The title Mr. Gardner didn’t fit him. It sounded stuffy.
“Where did he …?” She didn’t finish.
“In his house.”
“When did you …?” She fanned the air, evidently flustered by her own curiosity.
“Around eleven thirty.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why were you there so late?”
I explained.
“Urgent. He wrote it was urgent?” She blinked, as if trying to unearth more from the term. “I wish I could have accompanied you. I was home with my sweet dog, reading an Elizabethan spy novel,The Course of All Treasons.Do you know the book? By Suzanne B. Wolfe? In the story, the royal retinue is thrown into chaos when the queen’s youngest and sweetest lady-in-waiting is—”
“Murdered. Yes, I know. We read the novel in book club last year, don’t you recall?”
Her expression shifted. “Did we? I’ve read all sorts of books multiple times. By the way, you are a gem at the bookshop.” She tapped her temple. “So knowledgeable. So polite.” She clasped both hands. “What has come over me? I’m prattling as if I didn’t have a care in the world. A man, a real man, not a fictional being, has been killed. Do the police have any suspects?”
The door to the museum opened, and Zach strode through. He gawked at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Going over a menu for the tea Reika has hired me to provide on Thursday,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm from the lie. “But I’m leaving. Bye.”
I hightailed it out of there and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER10
“Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead.”
