His voice was like hot butter over fresh biscuits. Downright mouthwatering. But his line of questioning was too practiced. The glint in his eyes too aware. Like a hunter setting a trap for a rabbit. Cordelia’s urge to run kicked up a notch.
“It’s been known to happen a time or two.” Daisy’s voice grew thinner with each word.
Cordelia didn’t like where this was going. Alarm bells were ringing in her ears. “Why are you interrogating Miss Daisy?”
“I’m not interrogating.” He paused, his gaze darting between the two of them. “Yet.”
“‘Yet’?” Cordelia placed her hands on her hips. She’d always channeled the short fuse she’d inherited from her momma into more practical endeavors, such as cleaning the grout in her shower with a toothbrush or balancing her checkbook, but it seemed as though Sarsaparilla Falls brought the spitfire out in her. Must be all that South Texas heat. “What do you mean by ‘yet’?”
Shadows crossed Archer’s expression and Cordelia felt the pinch of regret for being so stern with him. She was protective of Daisy, but he just lost his daddy and deserved a little grace. Cordelia loosened her rigid posture and tried to appear more open and inviting, but when he cocked an eyebrow, she gave up and resumed her natural, straight-faced expression.
“I might as well tell you now.” Archer rubbed his jaw where a thin layer of stubble had started to grow. “We had an autopsy done. My father didn’t die of a heart attack like everyone is saying. He was poisoned.”
Chapter Eight
DAISY WOBBLED AND GRIPPED CORDELIA’S ARM. “NO.THAT CAN’T BEright. I—”
“We’re so sorry for your loss.” Cordelia ushered Daisy into the passenger seat before she could either confess or faint, giving them both away. “If you’ll excuse us, I do believe Miss Daisy has a touch of the heatstroke.”
“Sure thing.” Archer stepped to the side, his gaze steady and unyielding as he watched Cordelia walk around to the driver’s side. “I know you only just got here, but it wouldn’t hurt to remind you it would be a bad idea to leave town right now.”
Cordelia tripped over the heel of her shiny black flats as she stepped off the curb. A betrayal of nerves that damaged her pride more than anything else. Ever since she’d come in second place in the President’s Fitness balance beam exam in the fifth grade—no small feat for a girl who was all limbs and no grace—she’d put clumsiness firmly in the same category as messiness and meanness.
“I have no intention of running.” At least for another week. Cordelia yanked her car door open. “No matter how bad you’re itching for the chase.”
He gave her a full grin, that infuriating toothpick still dangling from his mouth. “It hasn’t been the same around here since you’ve been gone, Delia. I’ll be seeing you.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat. Neither option stopped the goose bumps from raising on her arms. Daisy sat in the front seat mumbling affirmations of encouragement to herself, but Cordelia didn’t want to stay in town trying to sort her out. She’d wait until they got back to the Chickadee before asking her questions about poison.
Once they passed the gas station and hit the dirt road, Daisy seemed to snap out of the catatonic state. She turned her big brown eyes on Cordelia, pleading for her very life in their depths. “I swear, I didn’t poison the pastor.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Cordelia waved her off. She didn’t know Daisy well, but she knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t hurt a fly if it bit her riding horse. “You’re the one who told me not to pay any mind to Edna Abernathy.”
“Yeah, but Archer...” Daisy nibbled on her lower lip as she stared out the window, staining her teeth with her bright-red lipstick. “He knew his daddy was coming to the Chickadee that night. That’s why he stopped over. He’s not going to let this go.”
“He can’t prove anything.” They’d been careful. Cordelia was certain the only person who had seen them had been Corbin, or else the news would’ve been all over town by now. “He can be as suspicious as he wants, but it’s not like he can launch an investigation.”
“Actually, he can.” Daisy tapped her fingernails on the center console in a staccato rhythm. “He’s a detective for the South Texas branch of the FBI.”
“He’s what now?” Cordelia slammed on her brakes hard enough for the seat belt to dig into her chest. Her heart beat wildly against her ribs. “Since when?”
“Since always? He was an early recruit, fresh out of college. His daddy was so proud.” Daisy sniffled as tears began to well in her eyes. “He said if his son wasn’t going to serve God, at leasthe was going to serve the law, which to him was the next best thing.”
“That’s a problem.” Cordelia didn’t mean to sound so insensitive when Daisy was in the throes of an emotional moment, but this wasn’t the appropriate time for reminiscing. “Do you have any idea how the pastor might’ve been poisoned?”
Daisy shook her head.
“Do you think maybe his wife knew he was coming to the Chickadee and put something in his dinner before he left the house that night?”
Daisy gasped. “Stella would never. She might not have loved her husband the way a wife typically does, but she didn’t hate him. And she really didn’t mind him spending his time at the Chickadee. It freed her up to have crochet nights with her gal pal Gladys.”
“I’m just examining the angles, not accusing anyone of anything.” Cordelia backed away from the pastor’s family. She trusted Daisy’s judgment of character, if only because she seemed to dislike the same people as Cordelia. “Did he have any enemies that you know of? Anyone he might’ve mentioned?”
“Oh, no.” Daisy’s eyes widened in horror. “Everyone in Sarsaparilla Falls loved Pastor Reed-Smythe. He was sweet as stolen honey, salt of the earth and all that.”
Cordelia’s momma hadn’t much cared for the pastor, but seeing as she was no longer in Sarsaparilla Falls, she figured Sherilynn didn’t count.
“We ought to make a list.” Cordelia worked best when she had a list to organize her day, and she figured a murder investigation wouldn’t be any different.
