At home, they released Pippi into the backyard and let Mister Smee out of his carrier. The cat immediately went to his food bowl, crunching kibble with his usual dignified air, as if he hadn't just spent the afternoon helping investigate a murder investigation.
June made tea, and they settled in the study for theirtea-time clue review, updating their notes with everything they'd discovered.
Sara Lee had to admit that, as gruesome as the task was, she loved the special time spent with her grandmother, both using their minds to sift through everything they were learning.
"Multiple people with secrets Raymond could expose," Sara Lee said, leaning forward to review their list. "Anyone could have obtained poison, but until we know what the poison was, that doesn’t help us much. Multiple people at the festival could have tampered with his flask, although access to his flask wouldn’t have been easy."
"And a newspaper article that could have been meant for any of them," Nana June added. "We need to narrow this down somehow. Find the thread that connects everything."
Sara Lee looked at their suspect list with names, motives, opportunities, and secrets. It was overwhelming. Too many possibilities. Too many people with reasons to want Raymond dead.
"How do we do this?" she asked, hearing the frustration in her own voice. "How do we figure out which secret was the killing one?"
Nana June was quiet for a long moment, sipping her tea, her gaze distant and thoughtful. Finally, she said, "We look for the pattern. The connection between all these secrets. Raymond came back to Meadowlark Creek for a reason. Not just for the festival. He was here to collect on something. Money, revenge, power… something he wanted badly enough to come back to a place he never wanted to call home.”
"Trust money," Sara Lee said. "He was going to get his inheritance next month."
"Yes. But I don't think that was all of it. For some reason, he didn’t think he could wait for his payday. I just don’t know. His motives for coming here are so unclear." June's expression was troubled. "Perhaps he pushed too hard. Threatened the wrong person. And they decided silence was worth more than his life."
Sara Lee thought about that as she headed upstairs to bed that night, Mister Smee following her with his usual proprietary air. Tonight, the cat curled up at the foot of her bed, purring contentedly, while Sara Lee lay in the darkness thinking about secrets and blackmail and murder.
Somewhere in Meadowlark Creek, someone was sleeping with the knowledge of what they'd done. Someone was lying awake, worrying that the investigation would expose them. Someone was planning their next move, their alibi, their defense.
And she hoped no one else would end up in their crosshairs.
14
JUNE
June was born and raised in Meadowlark Creek, and in all that time, she'd learned that sometimes the most direct path was the most honest one. Which was why, the next morning, she found herself walking up the courthouse steps with Pippi trotting beside her on her leash.
Sara Lee had offered to come, but June gently refused. Some conversations require the weight of years behind them, the shared history of having watched children grow into complicated adults. Horace was about the age of her son, Sara Lee’s father. She'd known his parents and had seen him and Raymond as boys before the bitterness set in. This conversation needed to happen between people who remembered when the Melton brothers were just two kids playing in Meadowlark Creek Park.
The courthouse was a stately brick building that had stood on Main Street since 1887, its white shutters gleaming in the morning sun. Inside, the air was cooland hushed, smelling of old wood and polish. The clerk's office was just off the main hallway, and June could hear the rhythmic tap of a keyboard before she even reached the door.
Martha Greenway looked up from her computer, her face breaking into a warm smile. "Ms. June! What brings you to the courthouse today?"
"Hello, Martha. I was hoping to have a word with Judge Melton, if he's available."
Martha's expression shifted, sympathy replacing the smile. "Oh, of course. He's been in his chambers most of the morning. I'm sure he'd be glad for the company. You know the way?"
"I do, thank you."
June climbed the stairs to the second floor, Pippi's nails clicking on the worn marble steps. The judge's chambers were at the end of the hall, the door partially open. She knocked gently on the doorframe.
"Come in," Horace's voice called out, sounding tired.
He sat behind a massive oak desk that had probably been there since the courthouse was built. The walls were lined with law books, framed diplomas, and photographs of his career highlights. He looked older than he had at the festival just days ago. He was dressed in his usual impeccable suit, but his face was drawn, the creases deepened. When he saw June, he rose automatically, years of customary formality and good breeding taking over.
"Ms. June. What an unexpected pleasure." His tone was warm, and his smile seemed sincere.
"I hope you don't mind the intrusion, Horace. Iwanted to offer my condolences in person. I am so very sorry for your loss. And I thought you might need someone to check on you… someone you can talk to."
He stiffened, and for a moment, it appeared he was going to refuse her offer. Then his shoulders slumped as though the weight he carried on his shoulders for years had increased.
"About Raymond’s death, I assume." He gestured to the leather chairs facing his desk. "Please, sit down. Though I should warn you, Sheriff Gordon has already questioned me extensively, and I’m worn out."
June settled into one of the chairs, letting Pippi curl up at her feet. Seeing Horace like this, she decided just talking was the best way to help him process all that had happened as well as gain some insight into Raymond. Looking up, she smiled gently. "I'm just here because I knew your family. Because I remember when you and Raymond were boys."
