Nine Lives (Lily Dale Mystery #1)(52)

“I can feel that Leona is troubled, but it’s tricky when you’re personally connected to someone who’s crossed over so recently. Sometimes your own emotions create a block.”

“Is there anyone you can think of who would want her dead?” he asks.

“No. Everyone here loves her. Everyone.”

“Pandora Feeney?”

“Not her. Everyone else.”

“You’re sure?”

Odelia’s unkempt reddish brows furrow above the rim of her cat eye glasses. “No. I don’t know.”

“What about her nephew?”

“Grant? He’s too fancy for my blood, but I only met him once or twice. And he was good to Leona. He always sent her a huge bouquet of flowers for Mother’s Day, even though she wasn’t his mother.”

Bella gets that. She did the same for Aunt Sophie.

“And Grant was her only heir?”

“Yes—but he has plenty of money.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s a venture capitalist.”

“Times are tough.”

“Have you ever seen the guy? His watch costs more than I make in a year.”

Luther shrugs. “I’ve never met him. Oh, and another thing I learned as a cop—rich people always want to be richer than they already are.”

“Rich people, maybe. But not everyone. Besides, it’s not as if Leona was worth a fortune. As far as I know, all she had was this house—and not even the land it sits on. It isn’t worth much to anyone outside the Dale.”

As they talk on, leaving Bella feeling as though she’s sitting on the bench at a Ping-Pong match, she realizes that Leona, like Odelia, lived quite a modest lifestyle for someone who can—ostensibly—give people a priceless gift. And they’re not the only ones.

Most of the cottages in the Dale are humble. Some could even be considered shabby. The cars parked on their weather-beaten driveways are typically as inconspicuous and unpretentious as the people who drive them.

There must be plenty of gazillionaires out there who would pay a fortune to contact their dearly departed. Orville Holmes is certainly cashing in.

But as far as she can tell, Odelia and most of the others remain committed to the Spiritualist camp’s original mission: to bridge the gap between the living and the dead for the greater good rather than for personal gain. They receive only token payment in return for their service and consider it a donation that allows them to carry on spreading hope and enlightenment.

“If we rule out Grant Everard—not saying that I have—who else might benefit with Leona out of the picture?” Luther looks from Odelia, who shrugs, to Bella.

“I’m afraid I can’t help. I never even met her.”

“Pandora Feeney begrudged Leona this house from the moment she bought it,” Odelia comments. “She thought it was a disgrace to turn it back into a ‘boarding house’—that’s what she calls it.”

How far would she go to get it back? She was insufferable and eccentric, but she certainly didn’t strike Bella as malevolent.

“It could have been anyone, even a total stranger—some random psycho who got angry with Leona and lashed out. Although,” she adds, remembering how quiet the Dale was before the onslaught of summer visitors, “I’m guessing she didn’t cross paths with very many strangers before the season started, right?”

Luther shakes his head. “Not likely. Good point.”

“All of us who live here year-round have our regulars,” Odelia comments. “I know all of Leona’s, and they wouldn’t hurt her in a million years.”

“People do come around looking for readings during the off-season.” Luther’s next words send a chill down Bella’s spine: “This is one of the few places in the world where it’s not just acceptable to open your door to a total stranger and invite him into your home, but it’s expected.”

“That’s true. But business has been slow lately for all of us. And I’ve spent a good part of the past month sitting on my porch, thanks to this.” Odelia gestures at her leg in the cast. “I’ve seen just about everyone who’s come and gone from Leona’s place.”

“What about on that last day?”

“Especially then. I remember because Jiffy only had half a day of school, and he’d come home with a big bag of colored chalk his teacher gave him. He was out there until dark, coloring a mural on the road. I wanted to keep an eye on him.”

Bella bites her tongue to keep from calling their attention to the appointment book.

Luther writes something on his notepad. “You could have missed something. Someone.”

“I could have. But Leona made digital recordings of every reading, and she kept meticulous written records.”

“Where?”

“The audio files would be in her laptop, I imagine, and her notes must be around here someplace.”

“Have you seen them?” he asks Bella. “The laptop, the notes.”

She manages to keep her voice steady. “There’s an appointment book on the table in her study. Is that what you mean?”

“There should be a notebook, too,” Odelia says, shaking her head. “The appointment book just has her schedule.”