Read A Devious Lot (Antiques & Collectibles Mysteries Book 5) for Free Online Page B

his notebook, and when she’d finished, he said, “Do you need medical attention?”
    “No. I’ll be all right,” Molly said. In truth, she felt chilled and shaky, but she wasn’t sure if it was from shock or because her jacket was too thin for the cold morning air. She realized she was still clutching Tiffany’s cell phone in her hand. She wanted to call Matt to let him know what had happened, but she didn’t want to use the phone in case the police needed it as evidence. “Do you know how she died?” she asked.
    “A detective and the coroner will be here shortly,” he said, unwilling to voice an opinion.
    She was about to ask if she could borrow his phone when a black four-door sedan pulled into the driveway and parked behind the police cruiser. An older man with thinning gray hair got out stiffly, and Constable Markesan went down to meet him. Molly couldn’t hear what was being said, but the man listened attentively and nodded his head a few times. Finally, he glanced at Molly and walked up the path toward her. She noticed he had a slight limp and favored his right leg. He had a pudgy waistline, a wide nose that reminded her of a bulldog, and on closer inspection, she saw his navy blue suit was wrinkled.
    “Detective Inspector Devon Boyle,” he said, shaking her hand. “Constable Markesan tells me you’re American.”
    “Yes, that’s right,” Molly said. “I’m visiting my great-aunt, Tessa Paulson. She lives down the street at Foxcoat Cottage.”
    “I’m told the deceased is Tiffany Hadley. How do you know her?”
    “Actually, I don’t know her,” she said. “I only met her briefly yesterday. We were invited to tea at Channing Hall. Her cat, Gingersnap, showed up at our front door this morning and led me to her.”
    “Must have been a shock, finding her like that,” he said. “Where’s the cat?”
    Molly was surprised he cared about the cat when there was a dead body in the house. “She ran into the woods when I opened the door,” she said.
    “Well, who can blame her? Poor thing must have been frightened.”
    “She was pretty scared,” Molly said. She didn’t want to admit she was a little scared herself. “I didn’t see any signs of struggle, but I didn’t check the entire house. You should know the back door was open when I got here.”
    He looked at her curiously. “What do you do for a living, Ms. Appleby?”
    “You can call me Molly,” she said. “I write for an antiques and collectibles magazine.”
    “You’re a reporter?”
    “Yes.”
    “Hmm. I thought for a moment you might be in law enforcement.”
    “I’ve had some experience with the police,” Molly said. “I helped out with a few murder investigations.”
    “Writing about antiques? How interesting. Tell me about that.” Molly gave him a brief summation of the cases she’d worked on, and when she was done, he looked at her thoughtfully. “You have experience in these matters. What’s your opinion of what happened? Do you think Tiffany was murdered?”
    Molly opened her mouth and quickly shut it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to give her opinion to a policeman in a foreign country. Could she be in some kind of trouble? He seemed inclined to wait for her to answer, however, so eventually she said, “She seemed healthy when I met her yesterday.”
    Boyle looked at her and nodded. “Wait here,” he said.
    He went into the cottage and returned a few minutes later with his notebook and pen in hand. He surprised Molly when he sat down beside her on the bench.
    “Let’s start at the beginning,” he said, crossing his legs. He wore thick-soled scuffed black shoes and brown socks that clashed with his navy blue suit. “You met Tiffany the first time yesterday at a tea,” he repeated.
    “Yes, we were invited by Brenda Adair. She owns Channing Hall, and she’s friends with my aunt. Her son, Giles, and his fiancée, Penelope Cassidy, were there as well. Giles and Penelope work for Brenda at her antique shop,