Sam nodded.
Dylan said, “What, like someone broke into the shop and killed Margaret?”
Charlotte shook her head.“It sounds like Margaret might have been murdered at the end of book club.That’s right, isn’t it, Sam?”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
Dylan sat down heavily in a chair.“I had no idea.I thought she had suffered some kind of natural death.That was bad enough.”He swallowed.“So the police are involved?”
Sam said, “Yes.I’m sure they’ll probably be speaking with everyone who was at book club.Have they reached out to you, yet?”
“No.”He sighed.“This is awful.I bet the cops are going to focus on me right away.The whole town knows Margaret savaged me in the newspaper after the open mic night.”
Charlotte firmly said, “That’s not true.Not everyone reads the paper.And even the subscribers don’t read every story.”
“Sure, but it won’t take much for the cops to search Margaret’s name and have the article come up.”He paused.“Did the police say how they thought she died?”He frowned.“Or could you tell?Were there, like, marks on her neck or a head wound or something?”
Charlotte shook her head.“I didn’t see anything like that.Did you, Sam?”
“Nothing.”
Dylan said slowly, “So, do they think she was poisoned, then?If she wasn’t strangled and didn’t have any head trauma?”
“I guess that’s something forensics is going to have to determine,” said Sam.
Dylan said, “I wasn’t anywhere around her tea.”
“It was actually coffee,” said Charlotte.
“Whatever.Whatever she was drinking, I wasn’t near it.Like I said, Margaret was pretty challenging.I do my best to just stay away from her whenever I can.So I wasn’t beside her.”
Although Sam did remember Margaret talking briefly to Dylan before the meeting started.He’d looked tense.Had Margaret been holding her coffee then?Had it been unattended?She couldn’t remember.
Dylan continued, “I left right after the meeting was done, too.I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”He gave Charlotte an apologetic look.“Sorry.I love book club.I just wasn’t crazy about Margaret.I went home, and was working on revising my poems until something like two a.m.”
Sam said, “That’s real dedication.”
He shrugged.“I want to prove to myself that I wasn’t what she said I was.That I’m better than just a hack poet.But nobody can confirm that, though, so I won’t have an alibi for the cops.I live by myself in a studio apartment.”He sighed.“I have a hard time thinking of anybody in book club being a killer.”
“What did everyone else make of Margaret?”asked Sam.
Dylan gave a short laugh.“They all liked her about as much as I did.I know Claire can’t stand her, although she’s tried hard to, considering she’s the club president.Gerald always looked kind of sick whenever Margaret was around.He looked especially ill when Margaret talked about writing her memoir last month.”
Sam raised her eyebrows.“Margaret was a writer?”
“Well, she fancied herself one.Considering what a perfectionist Margaret was, I’m not sure how far along she got with her book.Pamela wasn’t fond of hearing about the memoir, either.Maybe she thought Margaret was going to behave even worse at book club if she became a published author.It’s hard toimagineMargaret being worse, but I guess it’s possible.I wouldn’t have liked it, either.I’d love to get a chapbook published.”
Sam said, “Are you able to work on your writing full-time?”She had the feeling this wasn’t the case, but wondered if Dylan’s parents might be playing the role of patrons.
Dylan gave another abrupt laugh.“I wish.I’ve been working at the community center.I teach a beginners creative writing course and a poetry workshop.Aside from that, I get a few hours waiting tables at a restaurant downtown.”
“The workshops sound like fun.Do you enjoy teaching?”asked Sam.
Dylan looked pleased.“I like using my MFA.That’s a Master of Fine Arts.”
“Wow, good for you,” said Sam.“I’ve heard those are tough to get.”
Charlotte gave Dylan a proud look.“He’s even gotten a grant from the local arts council for teaching underserved populations.”
