'Stoneham's sidewalks roll up at six p.m on a Tuesday. The street was empty, the shops all closed. He could've crossed the street from his campaign headquarters, stabbed her, and fled on foot with the book. It was small enough to hide under his shirt. And he's a known entity with a reason to be on Main Street at that time of night. No one would even think twice about seeing him.'
'Yada, yada, yada,' Angelica muttered, leaning forward and slathering another piece of baguette with creamy cheese.
Tricia folded her arms across her chest in defiance. 'Okay, give me Deirdre's motivation for killing her sister.'
'Money. It always comes down to money, same as you figure for Mike. She inherits her sister's business, life insurance policy-'
'Doris's business was on the downslide. She complained to me that if Bob raised her rent, she'd have to close down.'
'And isn't it amazing that he's backed off that demand-'
'Only for a year, and only because he fears being sued.'
'Every sibling in the world has, at one time or another, wanted to kill his or her sisters and brothers. It's been that way since the days of Cain and Abel.'
Tricia opened her mouth to deny it, but closed it again.
'I pinched you when you were a baby. If I'd been a really rotten kid, who knows what I would've done. Of course, after that one incident I rose above such base instincts.' She gouged another lump of cheese from the rapidly disappearing slab.
Only the threat of being sent to an orphanage had curtailed young Angelica's homicidal tendencies. And while Tricia had often found her sister as irritating as a thorn imbedded in her skin, she'd never actually harbored feelings of fratricide. Not seriously at least.
'The problem is,' Angelica said offhandedly, 'nobody but the two of us is even worried about who killed Doris Gleason, or who might be cheating Grace Harris. And there's really nothing we can do about either situation.'
'I'm not so sure. We just haven't got enough information.'
'And where are we going to find it?'
'I'm going back to St. Godelive's tomorrow to make sure Grace isn't given any more of Mike's cocoa, and I'm going to see what it'll take to get her out of that place.'
'Haven't you forgotten something?'
'What?'
'The sheriff is trying to pin Doris's death on you. You may not have much more time before she decides to come after you. I think you should call an attorney.'
'I've got a business to run-'
'Which you can't do from jail,' Angelica pointed out.
'Then why don't you find me a lawyer? You haven't got anything else to do.'
'In this little burg?'
'It might be better than bringing in some hotshot from Boston. A local guy-'
'Or gal-'
'-might know how to manipulate Sheriff Adams,' Tricia continued.
'Or deliver you straight into her hands,' Angelica warned.
Tricia raised her wineglass to her lips but paused before drinking. 'I'll take that risk.'
Nineteen
Tricia wasn't exactly sure how Angelica ended up in her bed while she and Miss Marple were relegated to the couch, but she vowed it wouldn't happen again. She'd run four miles on the treadmill, showered, and breakfasted before Angelica even opened an eye.
'Coffee,' Angelica wailed, as she shuffled into the kitchen. Her hair stood out at odd angles and Tricia's white terry bathrobe was at least two sizes too small for her. She settled on a stool at the island and allowed Tricia to place a steaming mug in front of her. 'Please, don't ever let me polish off an entire bottle of wine again.'
'I've got to get the store ready for the day. Hang out here as long as you want. I left the phone book over on the counter.'
Squinting, Angelica peered over the rim of her cup. 'Phone book?'
'You said you'd find me a lawyer today.'
'Oh yeah.' She closed her eyes and took a tentative sip. 'I didn't sleep real well last night. Had a lot of time to think. You've got too much going on, what with chasing around and looking for killers, so I've decided the least I can do is help out at Haven't Got a Clue.'
Sudden panic gripped Tricia. If Angelica made herself comfortable in the store, she'd never get rid of her. 'No need. I've just hired Mr. Everett. Between him and Ginny, and me, we're covered.'
'But Mr. Everett has spent a lot of time watching Deirdre, and you've got to go see Grace Harris. And Ginny has to have a lunch break at some point. No, I insist. And I intend to help you as long as I'm here in Stoneham.'
Tricia didn't bother to argue. Instead, she turned and marched down the stairs to her shop. As expected, Mr. Everett was waiting at the front door, with his umbrella in hand. She let him in and he immediately went to the coffee station, pulled out a new filter, and measured coffee for the Bunn-o-Matic.
'You're ready for rain again, I see,' Tricia said and moved to the counter to watch him, marveling at how easily he'd slipped into Haven't Got a Clue's daily routine.
'Doppler radar shows what's left of Hurricane Sheila sweeping through western New York. We'll see it by the afternoon, I'm afraid.'
Tricia nodded. Thinking about the day ahead, she asked, 'Mr. Everett, would you mind keeping an eye on Deirdre again today?'
His brow puckered. 'It's not as interesting as working here, but if that's what you need me to do, I'm happy just to feel useful.'
Time to dig a little deeper. 'Has she…mentioned her sister much?'
Mr. Everett hit the coffeemaker's start button. 'She doesn't really talk to me, except to order me about. I must say I expected her to be a little kinder than Doris. Then again, they are twins.'
Were twins, Tricia automatically corrected to herself. 'I assume you haven't told her that you're on my payroll.'
'Not exactly. I told her that you were concerned about her safety and had asked me to help out.'
That being the case, it wasn't likely she'd say anything of any use in front of Mr. Everett. Still, having a mole in enemy territory could be beneficial.
'What time does Deirdre usually show up at the Cookery?'
He consulted his watch. 'Right about now.'
As if on cue, the white car with Connecticut plates pulled into the parking space in the empty slot between Haven't Got a Clue and the Cookery.
'Why don't you take Deirdre a cup of coffee? And maybe you can find out where she's getting her new stock.'
Mr. Everett smiled. 'Shall I pretend I'm master spy George Smiley?'
'Why not? It may even make your day go faster.'
'I will admit that I'm looking forward to Ms. Gleason reopening her store so that I may come back here and do some real work. Those biographies could still use reorganizing.'
'I'm sure it'll only be for another couple of days. And I really appreciate you helping Deirdre out like this. I'm fairly certain she won't voice her gratitude to us directly.'
Ginny arrived as Mr. Everett departed. 'Grab my coat when you hang up yours, please.'
Ginny did as she was asked. 'Going somewhere first thing in the morning?'
Tricia finished counting the bills for the cash drawer. 'I've got an errand to run that just won't wait.'
