Murder At Manningtree: A Veda Wright Historical Mystery by Beth Byers

Author:Beth Byers [Byers, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Vi looked beyond the constable to Jack. He was squatting, taking in something about the body. Vi didn’t want to go closer. She didn’t want the expression of another dead man in her mind. But she did want to help Melody Webster.

“Who is it?” Vi asked.

Melody did not cry prettily. She cried with her heart, with snot, with big galumphing gasps, with shudders, and the whole time, her husband held her as if she were as delicate as a flower.

“Her youngest brother,” Mr. Webster answered for his wife. “That…” he paused, clearly cutting out an insult given his self-reproaching expression. Shaking his head as if to reject what he was going to say, he added, “Harvey.”

“They know the dead man,” Vi told the constable.

His eyes widened and he glanced behind him, shaking his head. “I still can’t let you through.” He looked apologetically to Vi.

Vi wanted to roll her eyes, but she could see this young constable was far out of his depth. Instead, she whistled sharply and Jack’s gaze jerked towards her. She gestured towards the crying woman and the big man, and Vi saw him still.

He was doing the same calculations as she was. The likelihood that this death, if it was murder, was connected to the financial crime was nearly impossible to deny. Vi wanted to walk over to the young man and shake him, lecturing that no amount of money was worth his life.

It was too late, however, for him. But not too late to find the cause of his death and give him justice.

Jack rose, spoke to the detective behind him, and then crossed to them. He bypassed the young constable and looked his question to Vi. Her voice was low when she answered. “It seems that this body belongs to Harvey French, Melody’s youngest brother.”

Jack’s gaze jerked to Mrs. Webster, who nodded while wailing into her husband’s chest. “He was so young.”

Jack disappeared for a few minutes, talking to the police officers. He looked down at something in one of the men’s hands, and Vi watched as her husband’s face stilled. There was something happening there, and she wanted to sidle closer, but when she tried, the uniformed constable blocked her.

“Behind the line, ma’am.”

Vi turned her gaze back to the couple, feeling like a fiend as she was calculating whether Harvey French had been the one who had stolen from the family or if he was the one who’d discovered the theft and been murdered to cover it up. If he were the thief, she supposed he could have also committed suicide from shame, but she didn’t think that most young men would go to that extreme unless their actions had been discovered.

“He wasn’t supposed to be here, right?” Vi asked of the Websters.

“None of them were,” Melody said, sniffling. “Peter and I always come down alone. The next thing we knew, Vincent had a party gathered and nearly the whole family was on their way. Just Grandfather, Mother, and Father weren’t coming.”

Peter grumbled.

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