Page 8 of Murder Will Out
She heard heavy footsteps tromp their way out of the church foyer and outside. Willow waited motionlessly to make sure they were both gone; after a full minute of silence, she slipped down the final two stairs and stepped into the church’s foyer.
And came face-to-face with Geralt Talbot.
CHAPTER SIX
“Eavesdropping on your elders, Sue’s girl?” Geralt asked dryly. “Nasty little habit; you should work on it. Or get better at not getting caught.”
They stood for a moment, regarding each other.
Willow broke the silence. “Who was that?”
Geralt waved his hand airily. “No one you need concern yourself with. Just a local buffoon.” He glanced at her with an insouciant grin. “So, you actually do have some talent on that pipe organ thing. Sue said you did, but I figured she was blowing smoke up our collective behinds. Your playing is a sight better than that Ramsey woman’s, anyway.”
“You knew I was there, didn’t you? And you didn’t say anything.” Willow frowned, puzzled, as she came to the next realization. “And you kept talking, knowing I was listening. Youwantedme to hear.”
As though she hadn’t spoken, he continued breezily, “Everyone pretends she’s worse since she drove her car into a tree however many years ago, but the truth is she was always terrible.” Geralt jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Are we done here?”
“He said, ‘The old lady’s gone and the lesbian’s out of theway,’” Willow pressed, her impatience rising. “So I need to ask you again: How did Sue die?” Her voice was steady, but something inside her quivered violently as she spoke the words. “Did she fall? Or did someone push her?”
The old man’s face darkened. He stepped closer, close enough for her to notice the deep shadows carved out beneath his eyes. “You need to watch your step, girl,” he said quietly, the intensity of his voice belying his earlier careless tone. “This island is a sinkhole of secrets, a tangled mess you haven’t got a prayer in heaven or earth of sorting out. And some of ’em don’t want to be sorted out. Leave them be,” he said, and stepped back as though to leave. “And be careful where you start asking questions. I would recommend keeping your curiosity under your vest.”
Too late for that, she thought, a seed of anger twisting out of the mire of her grief.This has gone way past curiosity.She persisted. “Did that man kill Sue?”
Geralt gave a harsh chuckle. “Him? No, almost certainly not. That idiot doesn’t have the balls God gave a vole—or the vision, for that matter.”
“Was it you, then?” Willow cringed inwardly at her own words;Oh God, did I say that out loud?she thought.
Geralt barked out a single mirthless syllable of laughter. “I knew I liked you,” he said almost proudly, “I liked Susan too; we were friends. And I don’t have many of those.”
There’s a surprise, Willow thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
Geralt’s face turned uncharacteristically wistful. “And no, I would never have hurt her. Not in a thousand years.” He looked back at Willow, almost gently. “It’s good you came back. Susan wasn’t sure you would. But you did. Even if—” He stopped, didn’t go on.
Willow nodded. “Of course I came.” She paused. “Even if what?”
His expression unreadable, he replied, “Nothing. Just… be careful who you trust, that’s all.”
She almost smiled. “And should I trust you?”
“Absolutely not,” he snorted, his face returning to its usual half smirk. “Time to go,” he said breezily, stepping back. “You may love hanging about in churches, but I’m afraid if I stay much longer, lightning bolts will take me out, and the building along with me. Houses of God have little use for me, and the feeling is mutual.” He winked again, resumed whistling, and strolled toward the door.
He seems to be an all-around terrible human being on a lot of levels, Willow thought,and possibly a criminal as well, but God help me, I almost like him too. I’m not sure what that says about me as a person.
He had also, she realized, glossed over one more significant part of the conversation she’d overheard. “And it doesn’t bother you that your friend the vole basically threatened to kill you?” she called after him.
Another snort, a hand waved in dismissal, as he kept walking. She persisted, “Who was he, Mr. Talbot? At least tell me his name. Maybe I’m not the only one who should be careful, you know?” But he was gone.
Willow slowly moved across the village green toward Diana’s Café and Antiques, turning the conversation over in her head. Had Sue’s death been intentional? Surely if there was any suspicion of foul play, there would have been an investigation.
On the other hand, if it had been an accident, someone had clearly found it a very convenient one.
Convenient for whoever it was in the vestibule with Geralt Talbot, her mind whispered to her.Come to think of it, it is pretty convenient for Geralt, the last of the Camerons too. Him and “his” mansion.
Mackenzie Reyes rana tattooed hand through the tousled rainbow of waves on the unshaved side of her head; she hurried back across the green to her mother’s café, knowing her mom would be yelling for her any minute.
Food-laden tables had been set up inside and out; guests chatted and ate as they moved through the rooms. A sign on one of the patio tables invited guests to choose a handmade ceramic cup to drink from and take home as a remembrance from the day. Little knots of people gathered around, examining the variety and choosing their cup with care.
Mac’s stride broke a little when she saw Willow Stone, standing a little apart, as though hesitant to approach the gathered guests.
