The Trouble with Turkeys (Zoe Donovan Mystery Book 2) by Kathi Daley Page A

the deaths of Charles and Dolly. It occurred to me that there was a small chance—a very small chance—that the murders of these two individuals might not be related to either the turkey swap or Charles’s will.
    I supposed it was possible Dolly could have had another man in her life who killed both Dolly and Charles in a jealous rage. Dolly was more than forty years younger than Charles, so it made sense that she might have been getting a little something on the side. While this possibility seemed remote, it was worth exploring further. The problem with that complicated scenario was that I was running out of time. Once the heirs completed the meet and complain that was scheduled for the next afternoon, most, if not all of them, would probably leave.
    I had to admit the complicated twists and turns in the investigation were giving my migraine a migraine . If we eliminated the idea of some sort of twisted love triangle, as I’d speculated, we were left with six of the original suspects: Mason Perot, Oliver and Olivia, Peggy and Margaret, and Brent. I had no idea if Mason had a motive, but he’d been acting somewhat secretive since I’d first met him, so I couldn’t quite bring myself to remove him from the list. Oliver, Olivia, Peggy, and Margaret had really good reasons for wanting Charles dead. Brent’s motive was less clearly defined, but I couldn’t help but feel that the journal played into the picture.
    As for opportunity, Oliver and Olivia lived close by, so they could easily have killed Charles and then returned home. Peggy and Margaret claimed they’d arrived after Leroy but could easily have arrived early, killed Charles, left, and then returned. I realized as I pondered the situation that I really didn’t know how and when Brent had arrived, but I knew he had recently met with Charles, so perhaps he’d remained in the area. Zak had mentioned that he didn’t have an alibi, so I’d assume Zak knew the answer to the question. If they all could have done it, how was I going to narrow things down?
     
     

     
     
     
     

Chapter 13
    After completing my work at the farm, I climbed into my truck and headed home. It had been an exhausting day both physically and emotionally. I missed Charlie’s presence in my everyday life and realized that I would be glad when this temporary job came to a close.
    I knew Zak was keeping an eye on the dogs, so I decided to take a few minutes to pop in on my dad. I’d been meaning to thank him for his help on Sunday. I’d thought many times about our conversation, and for the first time in my life, I really understood that my dad had been hurt by my mother as much, if not more, than I had. I’m not sure why this had never really occurred to me before. I guess I was so busy playing the role of the poor, neglected little child that I’d never stopped to consider how my mother’s total desertion of both of us would have affected him as well.
    I slowed as I approached the store my grandfather, Pappy, had built from logs he’d milled himself. The building was dark, indicating that my dad must have closed early. It had been snowing on and off all day, and I imagined Dad had wanted to get home early to take care of any shoveling that might need to be attended to.
    As I passed Donovan’s, I pulled up alongside Trish’s Treasures to say hi to Trish Carson, the middle-aged woman who owned and ran the touristy shop. Trish is considered to be a staple in our community, having lived here for forty-eight of her fifty-two years.
    “I see you’re getting a head start on your village,” I commented to the short, pudgy woman, who was dressed in a dark green sweatsuit.
    “The shop owners’ committee finalized the story and I have the perfect pieces to depict my part. I just couldn’t wait to get started.”
    Every year the shop owners along Main Street get together and devise a story that’s played out through the tiny miniature villages displayed in each store’s front window.