The Christmas Coroner by Paul Austin Ardoin

Author:Paul Austin Ardoin [Ardoin, Paul Austin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pax Ardsen

Chapter Eight

The young woman knelt on the carpeted floor between two large rows of steel bookshelves, the first marked ‘300’ and the second ‘400.’ The gray plastic cart behind her was half-full of hardbacks, and she tried to squeeze a large bound tome, a plastic cover over its yellow dust jacket, between two equally hefty books on the bottom shelf.

Fenway took a step forward into the aisle between the shelves, holding her badge out. “Ms. Younger?”

The woman flinched, dropped the book, and stared at Fenway. “Oh—uh, yes. I’m Naomi Younger. Can I help you?” She brushed off her hands, picked up the hefty hardcover, and stood. She glanced behind Fenway at McVie, who nodded and took a step back.

Fenway appraised the woman. Naomi Younger was roughly five foot two, dressed in a scoop-neck red sweater with a white button-up blouse underneath, the collar of the blouse over the sweater. Fitted black trousers and black canvas sneakers completed the Christmassy look. Her eyes were large and brown, her skin a light olive tone like her father’s. She wore no makeup.

“I’m County Coroner Fenway Stevenson, and this is Sheriff Craig McVie. Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

Naomi lifted a finger to her lips and motioned them to follow her. They walked through the aisles into a conference room, and Naomi shut the door behind them, setting down the hardback and taking a seat at the end of the table. Fenway and McVie sat across from each other.

“Two nights ago,” Fenway said, opening her notebook. “The twenty-first, going into the morning of the twenty-second. Can you tell me where you were?”

“Where I was? Whatever for?”

“Just need to establish a timeline.”

Naomi crinkled her nose, but then sighed and nodded. “I finished work at five thirty. Drove to the Las Derechas Christmas Tree Farm in Estancia with Mary and Tobias.”

“Sorry—Mary and Tobias?”

“Co-workers. We’re working on a float for the library. I worked until about ten o’clock, then we all drove back to P.Q. Tobias drove us back to the library parking lot, and I got my car and drove to my apartment.”

“Where is that?”

“Nocturne Street, by the Marks-the-Spot.”

“That’s in P.Q.?”

Naomi nodded. “I’d guess I was asleep by eleven thirty.”

“Can anyone confirm you went home after getting dropped off at the library?”

“Well…” Naomi squinted. “What is this about?”

“We had an incident two days ago,” Fenway said. “I’m sorry about the questions, but we’re trying to rule people out.”

“Rule people out of what?” Naomi suddenly gave a jerk of her head. “Hold on. That Photoxio chef who was murdered yesterday?”

“That’s correct.”

“I’ve never met the woman before in my life,” Naomi said. “I knew she was co-hosting the TV coverage of the Christmas parade, but that’s it.”

“Do you follow her on Photoxio?”

“No.”

Fenway glanced up at McVie, who inclined his head slightly: Keep going. She turned back to Naomi. “Your father has the artichoke farm in Estancia, correct?”

“Diamond Hill, yes.”

“Have you spoken to him about what he’s going to do with the farm after he retires?”

Naomi tilted her head.

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