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

talk, but as Jeeves was short haired, his regular treatment was simply a shampoo, condition, and toe nail clip.
    “Jeeves looks so happy,” Rebecca said, as she offered me a glass. “I hope you like strawberry lemonade. I found an all-natural recipe I was dying to try out.”
    “Thanks,” I said, as I accepted the glass and took a small sip before setting it down to finish brushing Jeeves. Rebecca was handy with home made things, although I always thought that she might be trying a little too hard to impress. I imagined it got lonely in her big house while her husband was working long hours. “How have things been?” I asked her.
    “Great!” Rebecca said quickly, although she gave a wistful sigh. “I just hope that Jed remembers to take time off for our anniversary next week. He’s always so busy. I really don’t know how he keeps up with it all. It makes my head swim.”
    “I can imagine,” I said with sympathy. “I’m sure he has a dozen reminders around everywhere to take a break for your anniversary.”
    “I’m sure you’re right.” Rebecca chewed on her bottom lip and then gave a dry laugh. “Ah well, just as long as the whole thing with that land development deal doesn’t give him any wild ideas. That man is going to make millions off his wife’s death.”
    “Greg?” I gasped and nearly dropped the expensive bottle of shampoo. I swung around to look at Rebecca in surprise. The woman blinked and gasped as her mind caught up with her chatter.
    “Oh, don’t pay me any mind. I shouldn’t be saying anything about that.” Rebecca waved her hand in a nervous flurry.
    “But how is Greg going to make millions off his wife’s death?” I asked in confusion.
    Rebecca stared at me in fright. “I don’t know any details, Sibyl.” She made a half laughing, half choking sound. “Please, Sibyl, please, please don’t mention anything about it. Everything clients tell my husband is supposed to be confidential. Jed would be furious if he found out that I blabbed. You’re just so easy to talk to and, and, well, I...” Her voice trailed away.
    I waved a hand at Rebecca in reassurance. “I understand. It’s all right.”
    “Thank you, Sibyl.”
    Jeeves whined and started to fidget in the tub, apparently picking up on his owner’s distress.
    Rebecca refused to give any further details, but it was clear to me that there was a lot more to the slip. I tried to piece it together as I finished grooming Jeeves. Why would Greg make millions on his wife’s death? Insurance? That was beyond my comprehension. Even if his wife carried that kind of policy, why would Greg be talking to a small town lawyer about it? Why not his own? I imagined Greg had a whole team of lawyers. Why Jed?
    Whatever was going on, Rebecca had been dying to say something to somebody about it. It sounded like more than an insurance matter to me. But what?
    After I’d finished grooming Jeeves and had left the property, I pulled out my phone and called Blake’s cell phone. To my relief he picked up on the second ring.
    “Hey, Sibyl.”
    “Hi.” I felt sick to my stomach. Perhaps it was simply my imagination, but he had sounded a little annoyed that I had called. “Sorry if I caught you at a bad time, but have you heard that Greg would make millions from his wife’s death?”
    “Say what?” Blake asked in a distracted tone.
    “I heard around town that Greg stands to make millions from his wife’s death. Is that possible?”
    “Sibyl, I’m sorry.” Blake cut me off. “I’ll call you back shortly. Something’s come up.”
    “Oh, oh, right, sorry,” I stammered as I felt my face burn. “Sorry I bothered you.”
    “It’s no bother. Sorry ‘bout this. Talk to you later,” Blake said quickly, and the line went silent as he cut the connection.
    I swallowed, tasting a sour tang in the back of my throat as the drink Rebecca had made me threatened to come back up. Blake and I hadn’t really talked since the incident at the