"It's Geraldine Lopez, and my mom's Anita." She flapped a hand in front of her mouth. "I think we might have a couple of overdue books at home."
"Well, considering that the library was closed for a bit, I think that doesn't really matter. But you still haven't told me what I can do for you."
Why did my hands feel so clammy? Maybe because I wasn't used to having to deal with the police.
I once had to recover for a whole weekend after I'd been given a ticket for speeding. We Merriweathers were law-abiding to our core.
Geraldine and Trey both moved a little closer to me—not enough to invade my private space, but enough that it felt a little intimidating. Or did they mean it to be comforting?
Cosmo sneaked closer.
"The thing is..."
They gazed at me.
The detective took a deep breath. "The way things stand at the moment, there's going to be an autopsy on your aunt."
"What? Why?" I asked. Then, I was relieved—at least she hadn’t been buried yet, so there would be no exhumation.
"There's nothing to worry about," Trey said.
Worry. I touched my sweaty forehead. "Would you please tell me what's going on?"
"We had a phone call from a concerned citizen. It's just a precaution," Geraldine added.
"A phone call?"
"You probably have heard about—" She jerked her head toward Jake's place.
“I’ve seen officers coming in and out, yes. But what's my aunt got to do with it?" I asked innocently, only to ask myself if I’d made a mistake denying to have heard any rumors.
"We’re only going to make sure that your aunt's death had nothing to do with the other incident," the detective said.
"I appreciate that," I said.
"I know it's not a nice thought but please be assured that your aunt's body will be treated with the greatest respect."
"A phone call from a concerned citizen," I said. “Who was that? And what were they concerned about?"
"We can't give you any further information, I'm afraid. We just wanted to give you a heads-up." He smiled at me.
"Thank you."
I rose together with them. "I hope I'm not on the list of suspects, " I said in an effort to lighten the mood.
"Oh no," Trey said promptly. "We’ve been looking into your whereabouts, and you’re in the clear."
When they were gone, I poured myself a finger of brandy.
They were going to have my aunt autopsied. But maybe—no, I stopped myself.
Even if I presented them with the killer on a silver platter, they would still go ahead.
Concerned citizen! I was pretty sure our killer had something to do with that. I was also pretty sure I could put a name to them.
Because so far, my witchy intuition—and the lack of an appearance—pointed toward the one person with the biggest motive.
Pamela.
