Chapter 8
JUNE
"Did you notice," June began quietly, her voice thoughtful rather than accusatory, "how many people seemed... relieved? Not sad. Just relieved."
She watched her granddaughter process this observation.
She thought about Jerry's blunt admission of not being sorry.
Lucy's defiance. Bob's flush of anger that might have been satisfaction underneath.
Even Judge Melton's contemplative distance looked less like grief and more like.
.. what? Resolution? The end of a long burden?
Sara Lee looked at her grandmother for only a few seconds before blurting out what June had been thinking since she'd first seen Raymond's unnaturally still form on that park bench. "Nana June, you think one of them killed him!"
It wasn't a question. It was a statement filled with shock and surprise.
June shifted in her chair with the careful movements of someone who was still achy from yesterday’s strenuous activity.
"I think," she said carefully, choosing each word with precision, "that Raymond made a lot of enemies in his life.
A number of them happen to be in Meadowlark Creek, where he grew up.
Whether one of them acted on that hatred.
.." She trailed off, stirring her tea thoughtfully, letting Sara Lee draw her own conclusions.
"The Sheriff said it was probably alcohol poisoning. Natural causes." Sara Lee's voice carried the hope that this was simple, that no one they knew had committed murder.
June understood that hope. She wished she could share it.
"I know what the Sheriff said. Gordon is a good man, but he's already decided this was accidental.
" June set down her spoon, meeting Sara Lee's eyes directly.
"I believe Dr. Ward will determine it to be a suspicious death, and then Gordon will have to investigate properly.
But I think I need to find out all I can. "
"You!" Sara Lee's eyes widened, but June could see interest sparking beneath the surprise. "You're going to investigate?"
"I'm searching for the truth," June said firmly. "Whatever that truth is and wherever it leads."
"But... but... Nana June... I don't doubt your intelligence. Lord knows, nobody would. But to investigate a real, possible murder? Shouldn't that be left to the professionals?"
Nodding slowly, June agreed. "For the legalities, absolutely.
But if there are a couple of things I excel at, it's observation and truly listening to what someone is saying, how they are saying it, and the emotions swirling when they speak.
With those traits, I think I have a better chance at learning what happened, and not waiting on the sheriff to get the medical reports first."
She paused, organizing her thoughts, wanting Sara Lee to understand the full scope of what she hoped to accomplish.
"But it's more than just finding out who might have killed Raymond, if anyone did.
Think about all the people he hurt yesterday…
Diane, Lucy, Helena, Jerry, Bob, his brother, and Petunia.
The list goes on. They're all carrying the weight of whatever he said to them, whatever secrets he threatened to expose.
They deserve a chance to be heard. To unburden their fear or anger.
To perhaps obtain some closure about his death. "
June leaned forward slightly, her voice taking on a gentler quality.
"The police are well-versed in investigation, but they can be trapped by legalities, by procedures that are important and necessary.
But the innocent people who are suspects, or who are simply suffering from Raymond's cruelty, need to have their stories told.
They should be safe enough to let their burdens loose.
And those who might not be innocent... well, they need to feel comfortable enough to let their guilt show. "
She picked up her teacup, looking at Sara Lee over the rim.
"I've spent over fifty years as a librarian in this town, sweetheart.
People tell librarians things they wouldn't tell anyone else.
They trust us. They open up to us. And if I can use that trust to help people find peace or to uncover someone with something to hide, then that's what I need to do. "
She watched emotions play across Sara Lee's face, surprise giving way to understanding, understanding giving way to that sense of purpose that June had been hoping to see.
"Where do we start?" Sara Lee asked, leaning forward.
June chuckled. Her granddaughter had a good mind, a compassionate heart, and a strong sense of justice. She would be an excellent partner in this investigation. “We’ve both read enough mysteries to know the answer to that question. With a tea-time clue review, we’ll start with what we saw."
Sara Lee’s eyes widened, and a short bark of laughter fell from her lips. “Tea-time clue review?”
June’s lips curved slightly as she shrugged. “It seemed like an appropriate title for our little sharing sessions of investigation.”
“You’re right. I like it.” Sara Lee glanced down at their cups and stood. “I’ll make a pot because I think we’ll need a lot more tea.”
While the tea steeped, June pulled out a small notebook from her apron pocket, one she usually kept on hand to jot down grocery lists or book titles patrons requested.
Deciding she’d rather use a fresh notebook, she walked over to the desk and smiled down at a sleeping Mister Smee.
Opening the drawer, she found a new notebook filled with clean pages just waiting to be used.
Once seated again, she flipped to the first empty page, her pen poised as soon as Sara Lee returned with the fresh pot of tea. "Tell me everything from yesterday. Every confrontation, every reaction, every detail that you remember."
They spent the next hour reconstructing the festival, with Sara Lee describing incidents while June made notes in her precise handwriting. But it wasn't just transcription, because June added context, historical knowledge, and connections that Sara Lee wouldn't know.
"The Judge and Raymond argued about family money," Sara Lee began.
June nodded, her mind already reaching back through decades of observation and accumulated knowledge.
"Raymond was the younger son, and I remember them as children in the library.
As adults, I only knew Raymond from what others said.
Horace worked hard, went to college and then law school.
He returned to Meadowlark Creek and married Petunia.
They made their life here while Raymond flitted between jobs and women.
By the time their parents died, Raymond was long gone from this town. "
She tapped her pen thoughtfully against the notebook. "But here's what's interesting... Judge Melton is the executor of their mother's estate. She passed two years ago, leaving everything in a trust for both men. Perhaps that is more reason to want Raymond dead."
"How much money?" Sara Lee asked.
"Enough to matter, I'd estimate." June made a note in the margin. "If Raymond died before the trust dissolved... well, that would change things considerably."
She could see the chill that ran through Sara Lee at that realization. "So the Judge might have a financial motive."
"Might. Or it could be a simple tragedy and bad timing." June moved on, not wanting to fixate on any one suspect yet. "What about Lucy?"
They continued through the list systematically.
Each incident Sara Lee described, June added layers of context and possible motives.
Jerry's visible hatred of ethnic slurs. Bob's confrontation about old debts.
A taunt thrown out toward Helena's cookbooks, which neither of them could make sense of, or why it produced such a strong reaction from Helena.
"Bob's lumber business nearly went under years ago," June explained, tapping the pen against her chin.
"He took out loans to keep it afloat. I don't know the details, but if Raymond had some connection to those debts, if he was threatening to call them in or expose something about how Bob got that money.
.." She shrugged. "Desperation makes people do terrible things. "
She watched understanding dawn on Sara Lee's face, followed by a horrible realization. "Do you think Barb knows?"
"I doubt it," June said gently, knowing how much Sara Lee valued her friendship with Barb.
"Bill and Bob probably keep their business separate from Barb.
They helped her set up the coffee shop, though, so their money problems must be resolved now.
" She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Which means if Bob did something he's ashamed of, Bill might be the only other person who knows. "
They added more names to their growing list. Ivy's humiliation. Even Petunia’s distress. Diane's terror. He called her Diana… was that a taunt or an error?
"Petunia stands to lose socially, as well as financially," June observed, making notes. "Her husband's reputation, their standing in the community. Maybe even money if Raymond somehow had access to the trust funds. Raymond was a walking scandal. With him gone..." She left the thought unfinished.
Sara Lee looked down at the growing list of names, motives, and secrets with an expression that was part fascination, part horror. "So many names…” she mumbled, her brows raised.
“Remember, they may be a suspect or simply someone now dealing with the emotions from wishing a bully was gone from their lives to no longer having it be an issue.”
“How do we figure out who might be guilty of not just wishing Raymond was dead?"
As if in answer, Mister Smee suddenly woke from his position on the table, stretched with feline deliberation, and then sat on one of the open books, delicately licking his whiskers.
"What woke him up?" Sara Lee asked.
June smiled slightly, standing to walk over to the desk. "You never know with a cat. But they do have a sixth sense. Come on, Mister Smee." She gently moved the cat off the book and looked down.