Page 37 of June's First Murder
Now he did turn, his face flushed with anger. "My wife is not a murderer."
"I didn't say she was. But Raymond threatened to expose something about her. You said so yourself."
"Whatever teenage secret Petunia has, it's not worth killing for. And she certainly doesn’t need his share of the inheritance." Fierce protectiveness flickered across his face as he said it.
June stood, and Pippi walked back over, ready to leave. June moved closer to place her hand on the judge’s arm. "Thank you for speaking with me. I know this isn't easy."
"Wait." He crossed back to his desk, opened a drawer,and pulled out a manila folder. "I shouldn't show you this. But you're going to find out anyway, and I'd rather you hear it from me."
He handed her several documents. June scanned them quickly, seeing copies of the Melton Trust requirements, the dissolution schedule, and, most interestingly, a letter from George Smythe to both brothers, dated two weeks ago.
The letter confirmed the date of the Trust’s dissolution, and the amount to be released to each brother.
"If he could have just been patient, he would have inherited a great sum of money," June murmured.
He took the documents back. "Yes. The irony is, if he'd just waited and stayed away from Meadowlark Creek, he'd be alive and have his money soon."
June considered this. "Perhaps he couldn't wait. Perhaps he needed money more urgently."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure yet. But people don't usually come back to places where everyone dislikes them unless they have a compelling reason." June headed for the door, then paused. "One more question, Horace. Did Raymond ever work in Richmond at a loan company, perhaps?"
His expression shifted, first in surprise, then something like recognition. "How did you know about that? Yes, he worked for Richmond Private Lending for several years. Why?"
"Just trying to dust off my old memories." June smiled. "Thank you for your time. And for your honesty."
"June," he called as she reached the door. "Do you believe me? That I didn't kill him?"
She turned back, studying his face, seeing the grief and anger and confusion all tangled together. "I believe you loved your brother, even when you could have hated him. And I believe that kind of love doesn't usually kill. But I also believe that love can make people do desperate things to protect the people they care about.”
15
JUNE
June left him with that thought, making her way back down the stairs and out into the sunshine. Martha Greenway was just returning from her morning break, carrying a coffee from Barb's shop.
"Oh, Ms. June, I'm glad I caught you!" Martha's round face was flushed with excitement. "Wasn't the festival lovely? Well, mostly lovely. Awful about Mr. Melton, of course."
"It was quite an event," June agreed. "You were there, I assume?"
"Oh, yes! I was on the cleanup crew for the evening shift. We worked until quite late getting everything packed away." Martha took a sip of her coffee. "I saw you there during the day, didn't I? At the book sale?"
"You did. I imagine you saw quite a lot, working cleanup."
"Everyone sees everything in Meadowlark Creek." Martha laughed. "I saw a few couples that needed to get a room once it grew dark and the festival was over!”
“Oh… anyone else out late?”
Martha looked down at Pippi and smiled. “There were so many volunteers, all picking up trash. But, now that you mention it, I saw Judge Melton walking his dog late in the evening. Must have been around ten or so. I remember thinking it was nice that he was making time for the poor thing after the festival had taken up so much of his day."
June's mind caught on that detail. "His dog?"
"Oh, yes! A beautiful white Scottie. Or Westie. I can never keep those breeds apart. Beautiful thing. Judge Melton walks it every evening, rain or shine. Very devoted." Martha glanced at her watch. "Oh dear, I should get back to work. Lovely to see you, Ms. June!"
June walked slowly down the courthouse steps, her mind working. Horace had said he went home around six with Petunia. But Martha had seen him walking his dog at ten o'clock… during the time Raymond would have been in the park, drinking from his possibly poisoned flask.
It wasn't necessarily suspicious. Horace could have taken the dog out for its evening walk without mentioning it. It was such a routine activity that he might not have even thought to include it in his account of the evening.
