like bees to honey.
“Maggie got angry with me and told me to stop being so paranoid. I guess I was a little too emotional that night, too. I lost my temper, something I rarely do. Next thing I knew, I had a butcher knife in my hand and Maggie was on the floor, screaming, and there was blood everywhere.”
The calm, unemotional confession was the eeriest one Savannah had ever heard. Nesta was as matter-of-fact as if she were giving directions. Savannah remembered the coroner’s report. She’d seen classic overkill enough to recognize the pure rage that had ensued during the murder. Eighteen stab wounds to her mother’s chest and torso. Nesta’s “a little too emotional” had put her in a killing frenzy that night.
Telling herself that she could carry on a conversation with her parents’ brutal murderer at gunpoint, Savannah took controlled breaths, searching for and finding the center of calmness that had helped her deal with traumatic events.
“Then what happened?”
“Well, I was horrified, of course. I mean, it’s not like I planned it or anything. She just made me so mad.” She shook her head and sighed. “Anyway, I knew I was going to need help, so I called Harlan.”
“Harlan Mosby, the police chief?”
Nesta nodded. “Few people are aware that we were distantly related. We didn’t care for him, of course. He was from the trashy side of the family, but I must admit, he was extremely helpful.” She grimaced. “He made me call Lamont. Said he couldn’t handle it on his own. I didn’t want to. I knew Lamont would be upset with me. Poor man was in a bar, drowning his troubles because of our fight.” She gave her husband another loving smile. “After the initial shock wore off, he couldn’t have been more supportive.”
“And my father?”
“That was unexpected but ended up working out quite well. Our plan had been for me to go home and clean up, then come back and find Maggie dead. It was going to look like a random burglary gone wrong. But then Beckett came home and caught us. I panicked. There was a heavy crystal bowl on the dining room table. I picked it up and smacked Beckett over the head.”
She sighed. “Such a shame. Anyway, that’s when Harlan came up with the idea. We would make it look like Beckett killed Maggie in a rage and then felt guilty about it all and killed himself.”
“So Harlan and Lamont hung my father?”
“No, dear, you keep acting as if Lamont was involved. He wasn’t. His only crime was loving Maggie. And though it grieved me to lose my best friend, in some ways, I think Maggie brought it on herself.”
“But Lamont was there, wasn’t he?”
“I was there,” Lamont answered in a hollow, sad voice. “I couldn’t do anything but watch. Beckett was unconscious. Harlan strung him up.”
“After it was over, we made a pact to never talk about it.” Nesta’s sweet face went hard. “And we never would have if you hadn’t come back home and started prying into things that weren’t your concern.”
Arguing that the murder of her parents was most definitely her concern would do no good. “And Harlan Mosby? Did you kill him, too?”
Nesta’s eyes gleamed with admiration. “Very perceptive of you, Savannah. I’m impressed.”
“How did you know I was even suspicious?”
“The library, dear. I volunteer there. When I saw what you had been looking at, reading for hours, I knew you’d somehow figured out all was not what it seemed.” She cocked her head. “How did you figure it out, by the way?”
“My grandfather wrote letters to my grandmother. I found them when I started packing. He didn’t believe it was a murder-suicide.”
“Letters to your grandmother?” Nesta shook her head. “Well now, that’s something I never even considered. What did he say?”
“Just that he didn’t believe it was true. What did you and Harlan Mosby do to him?”
“Nothing, of course. Well, almost nothing. A couple of dead animals here and there, some subtle threats from Harlan about you girls. It really took very little effort to keep him quiet.”
That was because protecting his granddaughters had been his top priority.
“And Gibby? Why hurt her?”
“I admit, I panicked a bit. I just didn’t know what she knew. She’d never mentioned her suspicions to anyone but I couldn’t let her talk to you in case she did know something.” A proud gleam entered her eyes as she continued, “I thought it was very inspired of me to stuff our gardener’s shoes