Free A Matter of Wife and Death (A Sibyl Potts Cozy Mystery, Book 4) by Morgana Best

silently rebuked myself. Blake wasn’t anything like that man. It was my own fault for making assumptions about an imaginary chemistry between us.
    “Are sure you’re okay, Sibyl?” Cressida asked with concern.
    “I’m okay. It’ll all be fine,” I said, as I waved my hand gently. “It just threw me off. It’s all good,” I lied.
    Cressida persisted. “They really are just friends.”
    “I’m happy they were able to stay friends,” I said quickly. It truly wasn’t any of my business. The last thing I wanted to do was get my friends worried about me, especially when friendship was probably all Blake and I would have as well. I thought back on the times when he’d rushed to my rescue. He’d looked so angry when I’d been arrested by mistake. He’d always gone out of his way to see if I was okay.
    In hindsight, that’s what friends do. I was sure Blake would have done the same for Mr. Buttons or Cressida. It was just how he was. It was my own imagination fooling me into thinking it was turning into more than that.
    “Our food will be out in about fifteen minutes,” Mr. Buttons said, as he returned to his seat after ordering. He shot Cressida a pleading look. “Dear Cressida, for all that is good and right in the world, take something before you eat those macadamia nuts. You’ll love it so much less by dinner. I beg you to take appropriate measures.”
    Cressida sighed dramatically and dug through her bag for the pills for her heartburn, which had been flaring up quite a lot lately with all the stress. “All right. But only because you are begging.”
    Mr. Buttons grinned at her. “I could beg on my knee if it will make you take it that much faster.”
    Cressida laughed. “Go for it.” Her eyes widened in alarm as he rose and started to drop to the floor, snagging his sleeve. “I was kidding. Kidding. I’m taking it right now, look.”
    “Are you sure?” Mr. Buttons asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I could sing my concerns for you if you like.”
    “I’m taking the medicine - just don’t make a scene.” Cressida laughed nervously as she brandished her heartburn pills. “You’re tone deaf anyway.”
    I found myself muffling a laugh as Mr. Buttons climbed back into his chair, looking pleased that he had taken Cressida by surprise. I loved these two. They always had a way of making me feel better by just being themselves.
    “While we wait on our meals, shall we try to solve the mystery of Lisa’s death?” Mr. Buttons asked, as he leaned back, conveniently blocking my view of Blake’s table.
    That sounded fine to me; I could do with a distraction. I’d sort out my heart and head later in a less public place, preferably over some salted caramel ice cream and a rerun of Monty Python or The Young Ones. I could do with some classic silliness.
    “It had to be Greg,” Cressida said, after she took a sip of her soda to wash down the medicine. “I’m betting his new bride had a really nice life insurance policy.”
    “Oh come now. You’ve seen how broken up he is over the whole thing,” Mr. Buttons pointed out. “Besides, if insurance was his motive, he would’ve waited until they had been married for much longer than a day or two.”
    Cressida looked skeptical. “Money does weird things to people. He didn’t take time off his work to mourn.”
    “People deal with grief differently,” Mr. Buttons said. “He might be burying himself in his work.”
    I bit a fingernail. “Who else would have known Greg’s room number? Or been able to get into the room with no one noticing?” I asked. I had to side with Cressida on this one. Greg’s behavior was indeed strange, even for someone in mourning. He didn’t act like he had lost the love of his life when he was making land deals and chasing off protesters.
    “My money is on our dear Dorothy.” Mr. Buttons grimaced as he brought up the woman’s name. “She knew Greg’s room number, of course. It would’ve been easy to go up