Shoots to Kill by Kate Collins Page A

Dave asked. “Your brother and your mother?”
    “Yes. Oliver is my deliveryman and Mummy is my”—she paused as she caught her mistake—“ was my bookkeeper.”
    ”Don’t forget Tilly,” I said, remembering the Grace wannabe.
    “Tilly,” Libby said with disdain. “She was our clerk until Mummy fired her after Tilly stole money from the cash register.”
    “What’s Tilly’s full name, and where can I find her?” Dave asked.
    “It’s Tilly Gladwell. I’ve got her address back at the shop. . . .” Libby’s eyes widened. “What if she killed Mummy for firing her? Tilly did threaten her.”
    “We’ll have to talk to her and see what she says,” was all Dave would say. “Now, you said your mother was your bookkeeper. Was that in addition to running her talent agency?”
    “She doesn’t own the talent agency anymore. She’s just a consultant.”
    Dave paused to write it down. “Okay, Libby, this might be painful, but I have to ask if you’ve had any arguments with your mom witnessed by anyone, or overheard by anyone, that you can remember?”
    “No,” she said forcefully, swiping the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “We were very close. Everyone will tell you that we got along famously.”
    “Did your mom have any enemies that you know of? Anyone she fought with? Anyone who might have had a grudge against her, or was angry with her? In other words, can you think of any reason why another human being would want her dead?”
    “Everyone loved her except for Tilly and one of Mummy’s clients—I think her name was Kayla—who claimed Mummy forced her to have plastic surgery that didn’t turn out the way she wanted. It was a lie, of course.”
    I made a note to tell Dave the truth about the lawsuit later.
    “Do you know who her lawyer was?” Dave asked Libby.
    “No.”
    “Was the suit filed here in New Chapel?”
    “I think it was Chicago.”
    “In federal court?”
    “I don’t know. I was away at school.” Libby began to rub her forehead. “But I should know. I mean, it affected Mummy’s life. I’m sure she told me.” She was so agitated that she pounded her fist against her forehead, then burst into tears. “I’m a terrible daughter!”
    I reached for Libby’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “You weren’t a terrible daughter.” Why had I said that? I didn’t know what kind of daughter she was.
    “I can get that information from the clerk’s office,” Dave assured her. “Now, Libby, I have another painful question, so are you okay with continuing?”
    She gave my hand a quick squeeze back, then nodded.
    “When was the last time you saw your mother?” he asked.
    Her chin started to tremble. “Yesterday, at her house for dinner. We always have dinner together unless she has a late meeting.” Libby let go of my hand to hold the tissue to her eyes.
    “You and your mom?”
    “And Oliver, usually, but he went out last night. He plays war games with his stupid friends. Mummy says if he weren’t such a loser, he’d be dating.”
    Dave looked back at his notes. “You said Oliver is your half brother, right?”
    “We have the same mother, but he has a different father, also a loser, by the way. Mummy had Oliver change his name to Blume so he wouldn’t be tainted.”
    Wow. Delphi sure controlled her children’s lives.
    Dave asked her, “Did your mom seem worried or distracted yesterday, or did she indicate that she was frightened or in trouble?”
    “No. We discussed plans for a new event at the shop. She was in a good mood.”
    Dave jotted more notes, then glanced at me. “Abby, anything you want to ask?”
    He had no idea! But since he probably wouldn’t appreciate me going into a tongue-lashing on the whole identity-theft issue, I kept it short. “Just two. Any progress to report on your stalker case?”
    Libby’s gaze shifted away from me. “I don’t think so.”
    Gaze shifting. Hmm. Wasn’t that a sign of deception?
    “Just one more thing,” I said.