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

face.
    “We were just seeing what the weather was going to look like for the week,” Cressida said. She wasn’t a good liar, but Greg did not appear to notice.
    “Thanks,” he said as he sat down. “The police held me for hours and hours, asking me the very same things over and over again. It’s all been so overwhelming and intense. Days after I lose my wife, and I’m dealing with all of this craziness. I’m about to lose my mind.”
    “What did they ask you?” Mr. Buttons said.
    “They just kept grilling me about times. What time did I shower that day? What time did I eat? When was the last time I saw Lisa that morning? Just a bunch of those types of things. Oh, and the one thing they really harped on about was a wrench.”
    “A wrench?” Mr. Buttons asked.
    “Apparently a man at that hardware store in town told some people that I was in his store a few days before my wife passed away. The police accused me of buying the wrench used to disable the railing, which ultimately killed Lisa.” He looked into his empty hands and sniffled. “I didn’t hurt my wife. I loved her and I miss her very much.”
    I wasn’t sure what to believe, and by the look Cressida was giving me, I felt we were on the same page. I glanced over at Mr. Buttons and noticed he looked more sympathetic. He probably still thought Dorothy was the murderer. I shook my head at the idea.
    Greg pulled his head from his palms and looked up. “It was just really exhausting, but at least it’s all cleared up.”
    “What?” the three of us asked at once.
    Greg fixed me with a look that I was sure was smug. “The police looked at the CCTV footage from the hardware store. They traced the buyer of a wrench back to a man named Alex Jefferson. He’s a tad older, but to an elderly man like the hardware store owner, he and I looked like twins.”
    “A good thing they caught their mistake before it was too late or something. You poor man,” Mr. Buttons said, with genuine feeling.
    Greg nodded vehemently. “Yes, that’s the only thing that made them let me go home. Once they found out it wasn’t me, they had nothing to hold me on. They still went over a few questions and oddities in the case, but from how they were treating me near the end and such, I feel confident they’ll be looking for the actual killer now, instead of wasting their time barking up the wrong trees.” Greg slammed a clenched fist onto the table in front of him. “I just want to finish this expansion, have the case closed and solved, and get on with my life. Me being here right now is not good for any of us.”
    Greg shot me a look when he said that, and for some reason, I felt it was a threat.
    “I’m going to go rest for a bit and then get back to work,” Greg said. He nodded to us and then left.
    Cressida shook her head. “Can you believe that?”
    “What?” Mr. Buttons said.
    “Was Nathan wrong? It wasn’t even Greg? He seemed so sure,” I said. “Anyway, just as well you handed the footage straight over to the police, Mr. Buttons.”
    We all fell silent as Greg poked his head back around the door.
    “Oh, one more thing,” Greg said. “Have any of you seen a pair of black, high heel pumps? The designer is Burch. They were Lisa’s favorite formal shoes, but I can’t find them anywhere, and I know she brought them for our honeymoon.”
    “Oh, that’s the first I’ve heard of any missing items. I’ll ask the staff if they’ve found any shoes,” Cressida said.
    Greg thanked her and disappeared.
    “It’s kind of weird that he’d even be looking for his wife’s shoes, isn’t it?” Mr. Buttons asked.
    “Not if he just wants to make sure he doesn’t lose anything he has left of her,” I said.
    Cressida left the room in search of the missing shoes, while Mr. Buttons and I went back to googling motives for murder.
    “Would you believe it?”
    I jumped and looked back at Cressida. I hadn’t heard her return to the room. “Lisa’s shoes were sitting