Chapter 21

21

I sat on the back deck, with a blanket draped over my shoulders, and a glass of pinot noir in hand. As I listened to the sound of ocean waves crashing onto the rocks below, I reminisced about everything I knew about the case so far. The note Whitlock found the night of the murder had been on my mind a lot tonight.

Was it connected to the murder or was I pulling a connection out of thin air because I wanted to believe it meant something when it didn't?

And why was Samantha acting so strange?

Was it paranoia or grief over Cordelia's death?

Or was it something else?

Per my usual at the start of most of my cases, I was left with far more questions than answers. After reading through the dated entries Cordelia had tucked within the pages of the book, I'd started to form new theories. Perhaps one of her neighbors was being abused, as she'd suggested. Perhaps she'd gathered up enough courage to confront the man or the woman or both. If one of them thought there was a chance she'd tell someone else, and they wanted to keep her quiet, it was the perfect motive for murder.

I thought about my earlier conversations with the neighbors. Rosalyn had tried to point a finger at Kayla, and Kayla seemed confused about it all. But was she?

As for either Seth or Eddy being an abuser, Seth was a slender individual, but he was fit, which suited his profession. I didn't know what Eddy looked like, and I also knew nothing of his demeanor, except for what I'd been told. When I'd glanced around their house, I didn't see any photos of the couple anywhere. There had been a collage on one of the walls, but every photo was of their dog.

Giovanni stepped outside, giving my thoughts a brief reprieve.

"Does your wine need to be topped up?" he asked.

I looked up at him and smiled. "I've been so caught up in what happened today, I haven't even had more than a few sips from the first glass you gave me." I lifted the wineglass in the air and shook it. "Still working on it."

He nodded, turned back toward the kitchen, and whistled. Luka, our Samoyed, came trotting outside and nestled across my feet.

Giovanni sat down next to me and wrapped his hand around mine. "Do you feel like discussing your day?"

I did, and for the next several minutes, I did just that. Hearing myself talk about it out loud was therapeutic, and it helped me to piece things together.

When I reached the end, he said, "Of all the people you've spoken to so far, if you had to point the finger at one person right now, who would it be?"

"I don't even feel I can make that call yet."

"Oh, I'd be willing to bet you've leaned on someone as your prime suspect, haven't you?"

He knew me all too well.

"I keep thinking about Eddy, which doesn't seem right, given I haven't even met the guy yet," I said.

"Why him?"

"I have no reason to believe the notes Cordelia took weren't real, which means, someone she was keeping an eye on was getting abused. Seth may have been a jerk to me today, but I don't see him as the type of guy who'd hit Kayla. I could be wrong though."

"Did Rosalyn show any signs of abuse?"

"I noticed a bruise on one of her wrists and a gash over one of her eyes. She told me her shoelace had come undone, causing her to trip. Most of her body was covered up, so I'm not sure if what I saw was the extent of it, or if there was more."

"Did the bruise look fresh?"

I shook my head. "I'd say it was at least a couple of weeks old. Let's say she wasn't lying to me about how she'd sustained the injuries. She still lied to me about other things. Some of her facial expressions were obvious tells. Her eyes would dart back and forth at times when we were talking. And during a few of my questions, she'd flutter her eyelashes—clear tells."

He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair. "If you had to solve the murder tonight, what would you say the motive was for her murder?"

"I'd say Cordelia was keeping tabs on her neighbors, and she either outed herself or she got caught doing it, and she was murdered because of it."

"It's the most obvious reason."

"Almost too obvious. It feels too easy."

"What if it's not? What if you're overthinking it?"

Anyone other than Giovanni wouldn't have gotten away with the suggestion, but he was right. Oftentimes, I overthought everything.

"Let's say one of the neighbors killed her, and let's say it was Eddy," I said. "Why would he go to the library to murder Cordelia when he could have just broken into her house and killed her there?"

"It's never a good idea to murder someone too close to home."

Point taken.

"If Eddy knew Cordelia was going to be working alone in the library, he could have snuck in, waited until everyone left, and then killed her as she was locking up for the night," I said. "Or he could have been following her, waiting for the right moment to present itself."

"Sounds like a decent plan."

"It does, except for one thing."

Giovanni turned toward me. "What's that?"

"The note Whitlock found in the library was a description of a woman. If Eddy had murdered Cordelia, or one of the other neighbors did it, they wouldn't be carrying a note with her description on it. They already knew what she looked like."

"Unless Eddy hired someone to do his dirty work for him."

Another option I'd considered.

Perhaps he'd been lying low until everything blew over and he was sure suspicion wasn't on him. Maybe Rosalyn even knew what he'd done, and she was nervous because she was covering for him. Her story about not knowing when he would return home could have been just that—a story.

Giovanni's cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and then held the phone to his ear. "Yes, Nico, what is it?"

Nico was Giovanni's cousin and worked security at our front gate. As he began talking, I downed the last of the wine and walked to the kitchen for a refill. I'd just stepped inside when I heard Giovanni coming up behind me. He asked Nico to hold on and said to me, "A man just pulled up to our driveway, and he's asking to speak with you."

"What man?" I asked

"I'm not sure. He refuses to give his name or to speak to anyone but you." Giovanni turned the phone toward me. "Take a look. Do you know this guy?"

I leaned over, glancing at the live feed from our security camera. "I know him. Tell Nico I'm on my way."