Are you sure this is a good idea?” Pepper asked me later as we drove to Albert Schumer’s house.

Well, actually, no. I wasn’t sure it was such a great idea, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I’d concentrated, tried to distract myself with work, even meditated during my lunch hour—not to mention I chugged enough dandelion tea that day to float a cruise ship—but Albert’s ghost had never reappeared. After what Striker had told me, I had to find out more about that missing letter. Since Grace Schumer had mentioned the letter to Elspeth, it was possible she might have more information.

Pepper, of course, was like the town’s grief counselor, personally visiting each deceased person’s family and bringing them her healing herbal tea. She’d been doing it for years, even before I’d left for college, so it kind of gave us the perfect excuse to go to the Schumer house today, even if my best friend was uncomfortable with my ulterior motives.

“I wonder if Gemma will be there,” Pepper said as we turned onto the side street where Albert had lived.

“Who’s Gemma?”

“Albert’s daughter. She’s married to Desmond Lacroix.”

At her disapproving tone, I glanced over to see her pursed lips. “I take it you don’t care for this person?”

“No, I don’t.” Which was rare where Pepper was concerned. She liked everybody. “Desmond is one of those people who is always trying to get out of their responsibilities. He’s always trying to weasel out of an honest day’s work.”

“Hmm.” I pulled up to the curb in front of the Schumer household and cut the engine. “Sounds like a real prize.”

“Yes, I’m not sure what Gemma sees in him.” Pepper exited the passenger side of my vehicle. I got out and locked up then followed her up to the front door. Grace Schumer answered after one knock, looking understandably sad and tearful. Pepper immediately pulled her into a soothing hug while I stood awkwardly behind them, holding Pepper’s tea cozy for her.

Grace pulled away at last and welcomed us into her home, sniffling as she closed the door. “The police were just here. They informed us that Albert’s death was a murder. Who would do such a thing?”

I handed the tea cozy back to Pepper as Gemma rushed forward to comfort her mother, who was sobbing again. Leaning against the wall of the small living room was who I assumed to be Desmond, looking bored with everything. His expression hovered somewhere between anger and guilt, and his hand was bandaged. My mind, of course, went into overdrive.

Based on what Pepper had told me about him on the way over, it was entirely possible he’d had something to do with Albert’s death. Perhaps he’d thought he’d inherit money or something, though that really didn’t make any sense now that I thought about it. With both Grace and Gemma alive, any inheritance would go to them first. But if Gemma got money, Desmond would benefit, plus I didn’t like Desmond’s attitude. I made a beeline over to him to size him up for myself.

“I’m Willa Chance. I own the local bookstore.” I held out my hand for him to shake, knowing full well he’d have a hard time doing it with his injury.

He held up his bandaged hand and shrugged. “Desmond Lacroix. Son-in-law.”

“How’d you hurt your hand?” I asked, not feeling the least bit bad about my nosiness.

“Carpal tunnel. Just had another surgery to try and fix it.” He shifted his attention to Pepper, who’d just joined us. “Oh, you brought your healing tea,” Desmond said sarcastically, ignoring Pepper’s glare of distaste. “That should do the trick and fix me right up.”

To head off what I sensed would be a stern dressing down from my best friend of the man beside me, I herded Pepper toward the coffee table and helped her set up her tea service. When she was done, she took a seat beside Grace, handing her a cup of tea.

“This tea should help soothe you.” Pepper patted Grace’s hand. “I do hope you’ll let me know if you need more.”

“Thank you, dear.” Grace sipped her tea. “This is all so disturbing.”

“I can imagine,” I said. “I mean it’s one thing to be left without a husband and with the financial burden of a funeral and burial and all, but then to discover it was murder…” I shook my head sympathetically and avoided Pepper’s narrow-eyed glare. I knew my mention of finances hadn’t been very subtle, and Pepper wouldn’t like me interrogating the widow. But money was one of the primary motives for murder, and I needed to know if anyone would benefit from Albert’s death financially.

Grace dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Thankfully, I won’t have to worry about finances. Albert had great life insurance from the post office and a nice pension too.”

“Well, at least that’s something.” I grabbed a scone off the china dish and bit in. It was almond flavored with thin slices of almonds.

“I still can’t imagine who would want my Albert dead,” Grace said. “He was such a sweet, helpful, kind man. It must have been a random killing.”

Desmond gave a derisive snort. “Or he made someone angry.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Desmond’s eyes narrowed, and he shifted position. “Albert was always fighting with Barney Delaney. I saw them myself just the other day, yelling at each other right there on Main Street in front of everyone. If you ask me, Barney’s the one the police should be looking at. If I had to guess, I’d say Barney got sick of arguing with my father-in-law and decided to put a stop to it for good.”