Free Never Say Dye (A Sibyl Potts Cozy Mystery, Book 3) by Morgana Best

Cressida?”
    I scratched my head. “Perhaps Cressida was an accident – she was using Sue’s hair dye, after all.”
    Mr. Buttons agreed. “That does make sense.”
    The car ride home was consumed with us comparing notes and discussing the fact that Dorothy had a temper, and what this meant for our investigation. By the end of the car ride, we had gotten no further.
    “So what's the plan?” Mr. Buttons asked as he turned his car into the boarding house driveway and headed further along to my cottage.
    “All I can do is call Blake and tell him, but he’ll be angry with us for looking into it,” I said, my stomach muscles clenching at the thought of Blake’s reaction.
    “It’s obviously that dreadful, uncouth woman, Dorothy,” Mr. Buttons said. “We should ask Cressida to sack her.”
    I shook my head. “We have no idea, really. We could be wrong about her.”
    Mr. Buttons got out and hurried around the car to open my door. “How could we possibly be wrong? If it were any more obvious, there would be a neon sign over the dreadful woman’s head saying, Here I am; arrest me !” Mr. Buttons gestured dramatically as he said the last part. “Besides, every time I pull a tarot card about her, it’s always The Moon , and that means deception.”
    “Mr. Buttons, what if we ask Cressida to sack her and it turns out that she’s innocent? What if people ask us where she is? Having to say, We falsely accused her of murder and sacked her, wouldn’t go over too well at all.”
    “Is that you, Sibyl?” Cressida's voice called from inside my house.
    “Yes, it’s only us,” I called out, as I unlocked the door. As we made our way inside, two dogs made a mad dash to the door to give us their energetic greeting. I was glad I was taking care of Tiny for Blake while he was out of town. Sandy and Tiny had become firm friends, to the point where they were now inseparable.
    Cressida high stepped and stumbled over the two dogs that were doing their best to stay underfoot. They whined impatiently with their tails wagging in expectation. I leaned over and gave each one an affectionate scratch behind their ears.
    “Certainly lively here,” Mr. Buttons said, as he closed the door behind him. “Good day, Cressida. How are you feeling?”
    I looked up to see Cressida shuffling slowly, wrapped tightly in a bright orange robe, which was enlivened by purple, sequined flowers. Tiny and Sandy scampered off to chase each other around the room.
    My brow creased with concern. “Cressida, you should still be in bed.”
    Cressida smiled, still as pale as a sheet despite the heavy layers of bright makeup. “I can’t stand lying around in bed. You’ll be pleased to know I was lying on the sofa, watching TV. Anyway, how did it go – did you find out anything?”
    “Do you mind if I use the kitchen, Sibyl?” Mr. Buttons said, as he made his way there, already knowing the answer. “Can I make you ladies some tea?”
    “I need coffee,” Cressida moaned.
    “Tea is better for the body and soul.”
    “Coffee is better for my brain and sanity.” Cressida gave a small pout and batted her eyes. One eyelash half fell off and dangled at the corner. Cressida did not seem to notice and I thought it best not to point it out.
    Mr. Buttons smiled. “All right then. Sibyl?” Mr. Buttons turned to me.
    “Coffee for me too, please.” I smiled at his expression. He shook his head in resignation and muttered about uncouth and unseemly Australians preferring burnt coffee beans to an afternoon cup of Earl Grey or Yorkshire tea. It had been a regular discussion off and on throughout the past few months. He was doing his best to convert me, and it was working, at least to some degree.
    “Okay, so spill. What did you find out? Anything useful?” Cressida asked as she leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement.
    I told Cressida everything, and in the retelling, it seemed not as exciting or useful.
    “Ken from the ghost