Murder On The Half Shelf

to work. Grace has already gone into the office for the day and I find it quite lonely being here by myself.”

“Then by all means come back to work. Linda and I will be waiting for your return.”

“Do you think she’s working out?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, I do.” And she wasn’t going to mention her fears of earlier in the day-to anyone.

“That’s very good,” he said, but he didn’t sound enthusiastic. She’d mention to him that Ginny at the Happy Domestic was looking forward to sharing his work time with Tricia. It was a win-win situation for all, really.

“Is everything all right between you and Grace?” Tricia asked, feeling terribly nosy.

“We had a long talk. I believe things will be different from now on. Better.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“I shall report for work at my usual time,” Mr. Everett said, regaining control of the conversation. He didn’t like to talk about personal things, after all.

“Very good. I’ll see you then. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.”

As Tricia hung up the phone, she decided she should get some of Mr. Everett’s favorite thumbprint cookies as a welcome-back gesture. And she’d buy an extra dozen or so to make sure that he could take some home to enjoy later, too. She liberated a twenty-dollar bill from the till and approached her new assistant.

“Linda, I’m heading over to the Patisserie for some cookies. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Sure thing,” Linda said, and went back to her conversation with the customer.

Since it wasn’t a long walk and it was a sunny day, Tricia left Haven’t Got a Clue without a coat and hurried down the sidewalk. Now if only Nikki still had the cookies on hand. Mr. Everett was particularly fond of the thumbprints with raspberry jam but would happily accept any other kind.

She’d timed it right and there were no other customers in the bakery when she arrived. Charging in, she called a cheerful hello but was greeted by a stony-faced Nikki. “Can I help you?” she said coldly.

For a moment Tricia wasn’t sure who Nikki was speaking to, and she looked behind her to see if she’d missed seeing someone else in the bakery’s small waiting area. But as she’d already noted, there was no one else around. “Um…have you got any thumbprint cookies today? Mr. Everett is coming back to work after his scare yesterday and they’re his favorites.”

“Yes,” Nikki said. “How many did you want?”

“How many do you have?”

“Four dozen.”

“I’ll take them all. Whatever my customers don’t eat, Mr. Everett can take home. I assume they freeze well.”

“Yes, they do.” Nikki turned away and filled a bakery box with the cookies. She closed and tied the box with thin white string and rang up the sale.

Tricia gave her the twenty and then accepted the change. “Is anything wrong, Nikki? You don’t seem especially happy this morning.”

“Then I’ll cut to the quick. I don’t appreciate you visiting Russ at his office. You two are no longer together, as if I had to even say it.”

Tricia blinked. “But we’re still-” She gulped. “Friends.” Okay, that was pushing it.

“It’s me he chose, not you. I think you should just back off.”

“I assure you we didn’t talk about anything personal,” Tricia said, finding it hard to believe Nikki could possibly be jealous of her recent conversation with Russ.

“Stay away from my man,” Nikki said bluntly.

“Believe me, I have no romantic interest in Russ. Remember, he dumped me.”

“He still talks about you-way too much.”

“I can’t help what he says,” Tricia replied, feeling defensive. “I only went to his office to ask him what he knew about Pippa Comfort’s murder.”

“Why is it whenever somebody dies here in Stoneham, you’re always involved? You really are the village jinx.”

Not that again!

“Nikki, how can you say such hurtful things? We’re friends.”

“Not anymore. I’m sorry, Tricia, but I really don’t want you to patronize my store.”

“But Mr. Everett loves your cookies. All my customers do.”

“Then if you wish to continue to offer my products, you can send Mr. Everett in to get them.”

“Nikki-” Tricia began, feeling incredibly hurt.

“It goes without saying that I will no longer be a member of the Tuesday Night Book Club. And you are definitely not invited to our wedding.”

Tricia felt hot tears fill her eyes. What had Russ told Nikki after their brief meeting the day before? Had he boasted to her that Tricia still needed him for information? Had the louse lied and said that she’d made a play for him? The doors to his office had been open. Patty Perkins had probably heard their entire conversation and could vouch that nothing untoward had gone on between them. But somehow Tricia doubted that Nikki would believe her-or Patty.

There were other, deeper ties that Tricia had believed bound her and Nikki together as friends. Had Nikki decided that was worth nothing, too?

Tricia’s lower lip trembled, but somehow she managed to speak. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Nikki. I’ve tried to be a good friend to you. How could you even think I’d betray…”

“Please leave,” Nikki said, her face rigid with disdain.

Tricia’s fingers clenched the bakery box and her throat constricted. It was just as well; she couldn’t think of anything to say to sway Nikki’s resolve.

She turned and left the Patisserie, perhaps for the very last time.

TWENTY-ONE

“So, did you hit on Russ?” Angelica asked, looking at Tricia over the top of her sunglasses. Despite the fact they were inside Booked for Lunch, sitting in the back booth, Angelica insisted on wearing the glasses and a headscarf. She said she wanted to keep a low profile.

“Of course not,” Tricia answered, and poked at the lettuce on her tuna plate. “You know I’m involved with Grant. Well, sort of. After he figures out who killed Pippa Comfort, we’ll be back together again,” she said confidently.

“Are you sure you want him back?” Angelica asked. “After all, he considers you a suspect in Pippa’s death.”

“It was me who found her,” Tricia said reasonably. “Well, Sarge and me. And I did have a relationship with Harry-albeit twenty years before. Of course he has to officially consider me a suspect.” She pushed the plate away. After her altercation with Nikki, she didn’t have much of an appetite.

Angelica shook her head sadly. “How long have you two been chums? Eighteen months and he still doesn’t know you well enough to realize you could never hurt-let alone kill-someone?”

Tricia’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought of the situation in quite those terms.

Angelica sighed. “What is it about us that we accept bad behavior from men and excuse them for it?”

“Not all men are rats. Daddy never cheated on Mother.”

“That we know of,” Angelica countered.

“Mr. Everett would never cheat on Grace.”

“No, but he’d prefer to find her at home making him a casserole instead of managing the charity they set up with his lottery winnings.”

“He’s just worried she’ll overdo it. He’s also from a generation where the man went to work and the woman kept the home fires burning.”

“Nonsense,” Angelica said. “Women have always worked. It’s just that they were ashamed to admit the family