CHAPTER 12
“ S o you think Blythe was murdered?” Magda Cooper reiterates the question as we sit in the café of her boutique grocery store.
My mouth opens to protest, but she waves me off.
“Of course, you do. Your mother told us all about how you were one of the best detectives around. You’re trying to solve her murder.” She gasps. “Oh, good gracious, you don’t think I did it, do you?” Her eyes widen with genuine surprise.
“No, no,” I’m quick with the lie. “I mean, no, I was just—okay. So her death was sudden and, well, everyone said she was in good spirits. I just thought maybe she met with foul play. Did you see her having a disagreement with anyone that night? Anything that might have put her over the edge?”
“Well, to be truthful, Blythe has never seemed happy to me. I knew her way back when, and she was always wanting something for herself that wasn’t hers. She was the type who thought the grass was always greener on the other side—and she always found out the hard way that it wasn’t. She had a hard upbringing. Her mother belittled her and favored her sister over her. Then her sister passed away young and her mother resented Blythe for it. Her father was a raging alcoholic, so Blythe left home as soon as she could. She never went to college. She took on odd jobs, anything to make ends meet. But she did have a strong network of friends.” I’ll never admit to being one of them. She slices a cold glance out the window. “Claudia and Vera. They were very close to her. I was not.”
“I can see that things were complicated between the two of you.”
Her eyes cloud over for a moment. “Well, she was the second wife of my ex-husband,” she says, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Beau and I were married for seventeen years. We built a family. We have three children together. I foolishly thought we’d last forever. Anyway…” She waves it off and blinks the tears from her eyes. “Blythe and I didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but despite our differences, I never wished her any harm.” She gazes out at the frenetic crowd bustling by. “You know, the holidays were always my favorite time of the year, back when my family was still intact.” Her face softens at the mention of the holidays and there’s a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “Thanksgiving was always a big deal for us,” she says wistfully. “Beau loved to cook, and we used to host a big family dinner every year. It was very special.” I thought it would last until my dying breath, and yet the good times seldom do. It was just a small snapshot in time. But I can’t say that to Bizzy. She’s young. I don’t dare populate her thoughts with my negativity. Heaven knows she’ll have enough time to figure that out for herself.
I certainly hope I never find that out. Jasper and I are happy. I can’t wait until we fill our cottage with children. Of course, it’s filled to the brim as it stands. We’d probably have to trade up for a bigger cottage, but still, we’d fill that place to the brim with love.
She shakes her head at me mournfully as if she heard.
Bizzy has no idea how cruel life can be. How cruel so-called friends can be. A dark smile plays on her lips. But life does have its way of righting all the wrongs. Even if on occasion, you have to give it a push in the right direction .
Wow, that was dark.
I offer her a sympathetic smile. “It sounds as if you have more than a few cherished memories. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season this year as well.”
Magda nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Bizzy,” she says quietly. “I appreciate that. Now if you don’t mind, I’d better get back to my post. Please feel free to stop in any time. And if someone out there is responsible for Blythe’s death, I hope you catch them sooner than later.” She offers my hand a quick pat. But you won’t.
She takes off and my mouth falls open.
Now what makes her so sure about that?
What was she thinking, Bizzy? Fish is the first to ask, but before I can get the words out, Candy traipses this way along with Macy and Jordy.
“ Geez , this place is packed,” Macy says, pulling out a seat. “Mind if we sit with you?”
“Only if you share your lunch.”
Jordy hoists a large paper bag onto the table. “I hope you’re hungry because we got enough to feed all of Maine.” He pulls out a bag of doggie biscuits. “And we’ve got enough to feed every dog in this place, too.”
What about me? Fish mewls with far too much hope.
“Don’t you worry, Fish.” Macy gives her a quick scratch. “I’ll share my smoked chicken with you.”
And she does.
And by the way, the smoked chicken is to die for, as are the brisket, the mashed potatoes and gravy with bacon bits, the kale and beet salad, the pecan pie, and the delectable white chocolate chip chunk and macadamia nut homemade cookies.
“I am definitely coming back here,” Macy moans as she holds her stomach.
I glance over at the coffee bar where Magda offers service with a smile.
“I just might be coming back as well,” I say, looking her way.
After all, Magda did admit that I wouldn’t be getting a single straight answer out of her. And I wonder if that’s because the answer is that Magda pulled the trigger herself.