"Yes, I met him, and we began dating, getting married a year later."
"Does he know?" June asked.
"Oh, yes." Helena's voice strengthened slightly. "I told him about the experience when we first started dating."
"How did Raymond fit into this?"
Helena sighed as she rubbed her hand over her forehead. "His company handled bail bonds." Helena's voice went flat, emotionless. "I met him once when he came to the jail to see someone else about bail. Then I was released, didn't need him, and thought that was that."
She paused, her gaze distant. "I had no idea he was from this area until he showed up one day. He recognized me and started to taunt me by saying he’d let my secret out."
"But Pete already knew," Sara Lee said softly.
"Yes, but no one else in town did, other than Lucy." Helena looked directly at them now. "Pete was so angry with him, but we knew that to approach him would make things worse. So we just silently endured his taunts when he was around. He made our lives miserable when he was here, which thank goodness, wasn't often."
She stopped speaking then, looking at them with an expression June couldn't quite read. Defiant? Afraid? Relieved?
"If you think I had something to do with his death, you're wrong!" Helena's voice rose slightly, passionbreaking through her usual calm demeanor. "I disliked him immensely but I’d never take a life."
June reached across the table and covered Helena's trembling hands with her own.
"I admit that I'm glad he can't spread his vitriol anymore, but I never wished him dead,” Helena forced out.
Just then, the front door opened. They heard Pastor Pete's voice calling out, "Helena? I'm home."
Helena's eyes widened, but June squeezed her hands gently before releasing them. “You must tell me about your roses, my dear.” The conversation quickly veered into safe pleasantries about the garden as Pastor Pete entered the kitchen. He smiled widely as soon as his gaze landed on his wife. He greeted June and Sara Lee warmly before he bent to kiss the top of Helena’s head. Soon after, June and Sara Lee said their goodbyes.
They walked home in contemplative silence, the late afternoon sun warm on their faces.
"She didn't do it," Sara Lee said finally, looking at June. “Kill him, I mean… not her.”
June offered a sad smile. "We can’t always determine who is guilty and who is not based on a person’s likability. Or… perhaps someone who loves them." With that, they continued home.
21
JUNE
The morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows as June sat at the table with her notebook open, reviewing everything they'd learned. Sara Lee sat across from her, nursing a cup of coffee, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she hadn't slept well.
Mister Smee wound between June's feet, purring softly, before jumping up onto the table and settling himself directly on her notes. She scratched behind his ears absently, her mind cataloging their suspects.
"Let's go through them all again," June said, picking up her pen. "Helena, Lucy, Jerry, Ivy, Horace, Petunia..." She paused, tapping the pen against her chin before crossing off a name. "Carl… no. He’s off the list."
Sara Lee nodded, relief still evident on her face whenever Carl's name came up. "Helena had a reason to hate Raymond. So did Jerry and Ivy. The Judge and Petunia had financial motives."
June looked at the names written in a column, then sat back, studying them. "There's something that'shovering in the corner of my mind... something that was said in the past couple of days, but at the time didn't register with me."
She closed her eyes, trying to recall. A conversation, a phrase, an action… something that seemed insignificant but now feels important. But the harder she tried to grasp it, the more it slipped away.
Pippi wandered into the kitchen, her long ears drooping slightly as she approached her empty food bowl. She sniffed it thoroughly, then looked up at June with soulful eyes.
"You already ate your breakfast," June told the dog. But Pippi just stared at her, unmoving, her tail giving a hopeful wag.
Sara Lee laughed despite the tension. "She's relentless."
"Fine," June conceded, rising to add a small scoop of kibble to the bowl. But instead of eating, Pippi turned and walked to the back door, whining softly.
"Now you want to go outside?" June shook her head, but moved to open the door. Pippi trotted out into the yard, nose immediately to the ground, following some scent only she could detect.
