A Manor of Murder. June Shaw

“Can’t he find somebody else to blame? Good grief, you’d think he could come up with someone else in town—or maybe somebody from away from here.”

      “I know. First, we need to bring him all the information we can gather about the subs that we used on the house. And I made notes about all of their helpers I could think of.”

      She was nodding. “Great. I’ll do a printout of their contact info.”

      “I’m also going to let him know about somebody I just learned had a motive to kill our client.”

      “Tell me about it while I gather the other information.”

      The sun was shimmering toward the west when we rode to the station and carried our papers in to the detective. We told him tidbits about people we had worked with on the deceased man’s house and then I gave him the bombshell. “We know all of those men and the few women went around his place sometimes. But what I just found out was a person who could have wanted to kill him.”

      This officer who had made me feel like a criminal earlier today now looked at me with interest. Giving him a person with a motive for murder made him sit straighter, and lift his thick eyebrows at the edges. He wrote and asked questions of me and wrote more. When he inquired about whether Eve had anything to add, she shrugged her trim shoulders. She looked a bit younger than normal with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She still wore her attractive emerald green workout suit.

      “I didn’t see anybody I knew today, but I’ll try to learn more soon,” she said.

      Detective Wilet gave me a nod. “Did this fellow Nelson say what kind of business his cousin had?”

      “No, and I’m sorry I didn’t ask.”

      “But he goes to the gumbo kitchen. I’ll check it out.” The detective set down his pen.

      Relief washing through me, I stood beside Eve. “You know we’re happy to get you any facts that might help solve a case.” What good citizens we were, I told myself, mentally patting my back and my twin’s.

      The detective’s lips formed a half grin. He knew the main thing we were doing was trying to find somebody else for him to blame instead of us for that murder.

      We also cared about who killed our client. “Let’s keep in touch,” I told the stout officer rising from his desk and coming to walk us out of his office.

      Away from his stifling building, we decided a nice trip to visit our mother seemed in order. She had been pleased with us for attending Edward’s funeral. Now she would probably still be in a better mood with us.

      “We’ll be able to decipher whether his murder made her decide to delay wedding plans,” Eve suggested, and I agreed.

      We hurried to the manor, cheerful since we’d shared incriminating information with the detective.

      Not far inside, Mom’s friends sat gathered. Those in the Chat and Nap group who took daily naps must have already enjoyed them, although Mom wasn’t with them yet. These all appeared lively, their chatter echoing through the foyer. We exchanged greetings with them.

      A woman at the outer edge of one sofa wiggled her fingers at us. “Hello, I’m new here. Y’all are so pretty.”

      We both thanked her.

      “I imagine in time I’ll learn which one is which of you. I’m Thelma.”

      “It’s nice to meet you,” Eve and I said.

      “And this is my husband, Bud.” She held up a brown urn I’d thought was her purse.

      I swallowed, not knowing whether I should tell Bud hello. I decided not to, while Eve obviously did the same. “Where’s Mom?” I asked. “Still napping?”

      “She needed to go to her doctor for a checkup,” the pearl lady said. “Mac and his daughter took her.”

      I exchanged a grim look with Eve. Our good moods were dead.