Page 62 of Little Last Words

“There was nothing remarkable about it. I was pulling weeds, and I saw Penelope out front, watering the grass. I walked over, and she didn’t see me at first. Then she did, and I noticed she was on the phone. She held up a finger, indicating I should wait a moment, which I did.”

“Did you overhear the conversation?”

“Just the end of it. She told the person they needed to talk about what happened. Then she said she’d call them back in a few minutes, and she ended the conversation.”

Aaron had seen Penelope kissing a man the week before she died.

Was the mystery man the one she’d been speaking to when Rita walked up?

“How did Penelope seem after the call ended?” I asked.

“A bit flustered. She was nice to me, though. We had a short chat about Aaron, and I thanked her for befriending him. She laughed and said I was lucky to be married to a man like him, and I agreed.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Her phone started ringing again, and she said she had to go. It was the last time I saw her.”

CHAPTER24

Thanks to some quick research Hunter had done on Zachary Sandler, I found him on a stepladder returning fantasy fiction books to their proper locations inside the local library. Zachary was tall and slender, which matched the description Aaron had given me about the man he’d seen with Penelope. I’d also noticed a charcoal-colored Jeep Wrangler parked in front of the library when I drove in.

Zachary turned toward me, smiling as he asked if there were any books he could help me find.

“I believe I’ve located what I’m interested in,” I said.

He glanced at my empty hands and said, “What do you like to read?”

“I’m a fan of the classics …Jane Eyre,Pride and Prejudice,Vanity Fair. I also enjoy a good murder mystery from time to time, though I see enough of it in real life nowadays.”

He narrowed his brow, as if confused. “You see enough murder?”

“I do, and I’m not here to check out books. I’m here to talk to you. You’re Zachary Sandler, right?”

“I am.”

“How long have you worked at the library?”

“A long time. I manage all the libraries in the county.”

“Is there a place we can talk?” I asked.

He stepped off the ladder and said, “Maybe. You still haven’t told me who you are or what you want with me.”

“I’m a private detective. I’ve been hired to investigate the murder of Penelope Barlow.”

“I thought the police were looking into, you know … what happened to her.”

“They are. I suppose you could say I’m giving them a bit of additional help.”

“Who hired you?”

“Angelica DuPont.”

Based on his expression, he wasn’t surprised.

“Is she okay?” he asked. “Angelica, I mean. I heard she shot Dean. Everybody’s been talking about it today.”

“She’s all right,” I said. “So is Dean, if you’re wondering.”