Murder On The Half Shelf

attend one meeting. And now even her husband was scarce, determined to spend with her whatever time she could spare him.

Tricia drifted around the store, setting out the folding chairs, straightening stock, and eavesdropping on the various conversations. She thought the voices sounded a little lower this evening and, dare she even think it, a bit conspiratorial? She shook the thought away and was about to interrupt and begin the evening’s discussion when the door to Haven’t Got a Clue opened yet again, this time admitting a harried-looking Ginny Wilson.

Tricia crossed the store to meet her. “Hey, stranger,” she called with real pleasure. “Glad you could make it.”

“I heard through the grapevine that you’ve got another new hire?” Ginny said with a giggle, and shrugged out of her jacket.

“I’ll bet the grapevine had a Poirot mustache and kindly blue eyes, too.”

“As a matter of fact, he did. Mr. Everett called and asked if I could use some part-time help at the Happy Domestic.”

“And you said,” Tricia prompted.

“Yes. I lucked into a niche market here in Stoneham. The locals seem to support the Happy Domestic far better than they do the rest of the booksellers, thanks to all the cutesy knickknacks and such that I stock. Business has been good and will probably pick up once the tourists come back next month. But I’m hoping things will even out with Grace and she and Mr. Everett will get to spend more time together.”

“Me, too. As for my new hire…why don’t we go to lunch in a day or so and I’ll let you know how Linda is working out. That’ll give her time to shine.”

Ginny cocked her head and met Tricia’s gaze. “You think she’s the one?”

“She could be.”

“Well, now that I’ll have Mr. Everett covering for me, I think a lunch break now and then away from the store would be heaven.”

“Ahem!” Frannie cleared her throat, diverting their attention to her. “Hi, Ginny. Um, Tricia-shouldn’t we get started?”

“By all means.” Tricia directed Ginny to one of the open chairs and took a seat next to her. She preferred to sit rather than stand over the group. She found it made the conversations more open and intimate. “I’m glad you all could make it tonight. Before we get started on our current read, let’s recap what we agreed on at our last meeting.”

“I’d rather talk about what’s happening here in Stoneham,” Donna said, her eyes wide and trained on Tricia. “A real-life murder and you found the body.”

On second thought, maybe she should stand. Tricia wasn’t keen on opening up her own personal life to the group-especially on the topic of Pippa Comfort’s death.

“My sister’s dog found the body,” she clarified. “And I’ve been asked by the Stoneham Police Department not to talk about the crime.” That last part wasn’t exactly true, but she hoped it would shut down that topic of conversation. Donna frowned and looked away.

“Mary was also at the inn the night it happened,” Frannie pointed out. “Did you see anything suspicious before the killing?”

Mary’s mouth dropped open, and she quickly turned to Tricia as though looking for backup. Tricia could only shrug.

Mary’s cheeks colored. “I was in my room for quite some time before Mrs. Comfort was found dead.”

That wasn’t quite true.

“Did your room overlook the backyard where the poor woman died?” Frannie pressed.

Eyes widening, Mary suddenly looked frightened. “I didn’t see anything. If I had, I’d have told the police-not all of you.”

Frannie shrugged. “Sorry, Mare. I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers. But you have to admit, it’s scary and exciting all at the same time.”

“Scary is right, and I really don’t want to talk about it,” Mary said, her voice shaking and her cheeks going pinker.

“And I think we should respect Mary’s wishes,” Tricia seconded, glad to put the subject behind them. “Now, we agreed we’d select the three books we’d like to read before we take a break for the summer. We decided we’d tackle one classic and two contemporary mysteries and narrowed it down to three authors and six titles. They are: No Love Lost or The Tiger in the Smoke by Margery Allingham; Patricia Cornwell’s The Scarpetta Factor or Port Mortuary, and Fade Away or Back Spin by Harlan Coban.” Tricia had already read every one of them, but the nominations had been a group decision. “Shall we vote by a show of hands?”

Julia raised her hand, but not to vote. “I’d like to add one more title to the mix. Harrison Tyler’s Death Beckons.”

“Oh darn,” Frannie cried, “that was going to be my suggestion.” She eyed Tricia with glee. “Especially since we now know the author lives right here in town and that Tricia is his ex-lover.”

Tricia winced at that descriptor, true though it might be.

“What was he like in bed?” Donna asked, leaning in for the juicy details.

Tricia cleared her throat. “We won’t be going there,” she said with authority. At least Donna had the good grace to look embarrassed.

“Were you starstruck when you met Mr. Tyler?” Frannie asked. “And how did you meet him?”

Everyone’s eyes were now focused on her face. Tricia felt heat move from her neck to her cheeks. They weren’t going to let this go. Perhaps if she answered the most innocent of their questions, they’d leave it at that. She sighed. “I was fresh out of college, and a voracious mystery reader. Mr. Tyler gave a talk at a bookstore near where I worked. We had coffee afterward and ended up closing down the cafe.”

“Sounds romantic,” Julia said wistfully.

It had been.

“That was a long time ago. I’d much rather talk about our next book selection,” Tricia said firmly.

“Let’s vote on Death Beckons. All in favor?” Frannie said.

Everyone except Ginny voted for the book.

“Terrific,” Frannie said, sounding satisfied.

“Have any of you ever read the book?” Tricia asked.

“When it first came out, but that was a long time ago,” Julia admitted.

“I haven’t read it,” Frannie said. “And I’d especially like to get your take on it when we discuss it,” she said, again staring right at Tricia.

Ginny, who had been silent during the whole conversation, lifted a hand to gain the group’s attention. “I think we ought to consider Tricia’s feelings on this. Perhaps she wouldn’t like to lead the discussion on this particular book.”

“I could do it,” Donna volunteered. That was a first. If the monthly book held no sex scenes, she was usually content to sit back, drink the shop’s free coffee, and nibble on the complimentary cookies.

“I agree with Ginny,” Nikki said. “We haven’t considered Tricia’s feelings.”

“But the book is back on the New York Times best sellers list,” Donna insisted.

That wasn’t true. While the book had never gone out of print, it would be weeks before it could possibly show up on any of the major book lists. And Tricia hadn’t even considered ordering additional copies. If memory served, she had one or two used paperbacks in the bargain section.

Right now all she wanted was to put this whole mess behind her. That wasn’t going to be possible if the group insisted on reading it. And maybe she should just let Donna lead the discussion. The group could meet at the store and she could stay behind the cash desk and catch up on her paperwork.

“Death Beckons it is,” Tricia said without enthusiasm. “Now how about the other titles?”

Thankfully, Tricia was able to keep the remainder of the meeting focused on the discussion of The Goodbye Look, although Donna seemed bored by the conversation and kept staring off into space. She wasn’t fond of older mysteries, which made Tricia wonder why she remained part of the group.