Murder On The Half Shelf

The clouds had begun to gather. Tricia left the shop and bent her head to avoid the worst of the wind, hurrying to the Cookery. Frannie was alone in the store and looked up at her arrival, putting an Easy-Does-It Cooking bookmark between the pages of a book before closing its cover. As expected, it was a copy of Death Beckons.

“Where’s Angelica? She just called to ask me to take her to get her car.”

“That was quick,” Frannie said. “Your sister went up the stairs less than ten minutes ago.”

“Did she tell you what happened at the TV station?”

Frannie nodded. “The short version. She promised me all the details later. What a terrible experience. And the station just went on the air, too. I was looking forward to seeing more local newscasts instead of what’s going on in Boston or Manchester.” She shook her head. “Did you see the broadcast?”

Tricia nodded. “It was terrible, but it happened so fast…”

“I DVR’d it, so I can’t wait to get home and see it for myself. I’m just glad Angelica is okay.”

“Me, too.”

“I saw Chief Baker drop Angelica off in front of your store. That sure was nice of him-and to pick her up in his own car instead of using the village’s cruiser, too. That’ll win him points with everybody. I’m sure villagers who voted against reinstating the police force would have kicked up an awful stink if one of our officers used an official vehicle for personal use.”

Would they ever, Tricia agreed, but not aloud. “Is anything else going on in town?” she asked, if only to change the subject.

“Still no word on an arrest in Pippa Comfort’s death, if that’s what you mean. Goodness knows there’re plenty of suspects.”

“Who’s at the top of your list?” Tricia asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Frannie’s eyes narrowed. “Chauncey Porter.”

“Chauncey? What possible motive could he have for killing Pippa?”

“Don’t you remember-Jim Roth and Chauncey were great pals. That’s why I asked him to give the eulogy at Jim’s funeral gathering last year.” And what a fiasco that was, but Tricia didn’t bring that up.

“I don’t see what that has to do with that poor woman’s death.”

“Chauncey recognized Miz Comfort from a spread in Playboy magazine.”

“But that was years ago, Tricia said.

“Jim told me that Chauncey has quite a collection of pornographic magazines and videos, which he has cataloged on his store’s computer. He told Jim they were all e-rot-ic art, but if you ask me, it’s just plain smut.”

Chauncey Porter into porn? Well, it kind of made sense. He wasn’t the most attractive male on the planet. He was overweight and balding, and…no longer young. Perhaps he’d settled on a life of voyeurism rather than pursuing any kind of relationship with a living, breathing woman. Your heart didn’t get broken if you never risked loving someone, but oh what an empty life he must lead. Then again, maybe the love of his life had died or deserted him and it just seemed easier to fantasize than risk being hurt again.

“What are you thinking?” Frannie asked.

“Even if what you said is true-why would Chauncey kill her?”

“Maybe he was jealous. Mr. Comfort had a Playboy bunny all his own. Let’s face it, Chauncey never would.”

“Don’t you think that’s reaching for a motive?”

Frannie shrugged. “I haven’t been reading mysteries as long as you have, but I have to admit, I look at strangers and wonder, Have you committed a crime? Are you capable of committing a crime? I guess reading mysteries has made me a little paranoid.”

Tricia could second that statement.

Thankfully, Angelica burst through the door at the back of the shop marked PRIVATE. Her damp hair hung in ringlets, and she wore slacks, boots, a puffy pink jacket, and a matching purse. This time, she held Sarge like a football under one arm. “Let’s go!” she called, and headed for the back door. “I’m not sure when we’ll be back, Frannie, and we’re hightailing it out the back door. Could you reset the alarm after we’re gone? And please don’t tell Bob Kelly where we’re heading.”

“Sure thing,” Frannie said, and scrambled from around the sales counter to follow Tricia and Angelica to the rear exit.

The door closed behind them and Tricia struggled to keep up with Angelica, who’d already trundled down the steep concrete steps to the alley. “Hurry up, Tricia,” she said, and began to jog.

“Ange, wait!” Tricia called, but when Angelica was motivated, nothing could stop her. That is, until she came to the end of the line of buildings where the alley ran into the Stoneham Municipal Parking Lot. She crept up to the edge of the building and looked around it, quickly retreated, and pressed her back to the brick wall. “It’s Bob!” she squealed, and quickly put Sarge in her purse.

Tricia caught up and poked her head around the side of the Patisserie. Sure enough, coming down the west side of Main Street was Bob Kelly, clad in his beige raincoat and sans a hat, looking like a man with a mission. And as Angelica said-he did not look pleased.

Angelica grabbed Tricia by the sleeve, hauling her back behind the building. “Don’t let him see you!”

“Why are we hiding from Bob? I’m sure he only wants to express his concern over what happened to you at the TV station,” Tricia said, not that she really believed it.

“I don’t think so,” Angelica said. “He’s definitely angry with me.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Your whole relationship with Bob has been complicated,” Tricia pointed out.

“Yes, well…I think he found out something I’m involved in.”

Tricia scrutinized her sister’s face. Not only did Angelica sound guilty, she actually looked sneaky.

“I think you’d better tell me what’s going on.”

Angelica frowned and Sarge popped his head out of her purse, giving a cheerful bark.

“Shhh!” Angelica hissed and pushed the little curly head back into the bag.

“Ange,” Tricia scolded.

Angelica sighed. “Bob’s angry with me for making a certain real estate investment here in town.”

Tricia’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

“It’s not really a big deal, and it’s really nobody’s business but my own, but…I kind of own a share in the Sheer Comfort Inn.”

SIXTEEN

“I don’t think I heard you right,” Tricia said, feeling a bit betrayed herself. She had thought that Angelica told her everything. “What’s going on?”

“I’m a silent partner in the Sheer Comfort Inn.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? And more importantly, why did you let me think the Comforts owned it?”

“I can’t be a silent partner if I go around blabbing about it, now can I?”

“How much of a stake do you have in the inn and who’s your partner?”

“Partners,” Angelica admitted. “It’s a very long story and I’m freezing. See if Bob has passed by and then we can get in your car and drive away.”

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Tricia said.

“All I care about is avoiding him right now.” She pushed Tricia to the edge of the building.

There was no sign of Bob. “The coast is clear. Let’s move,” Tricia said, and the two women threaded their way through the cars until they came to Tricia’s Lexus. She pushed the button on her key fob and the doors unlocked. Angelica opened the door, stuck her big purse on the floor, and jumped inside. Tricia followed suit, quickly buckling herself in.

“Let’s go!” Angelica urged, and Tricia started the car.