Murder On The Half Shelf

“That’s true.” Ellington sighed, and his gaze drifted to his left as though a melancholy memory had overtaken him.

Tricia wasn’t sure how much of his time Ellington would give her, so she figured it was time to test her budding theory. “Why did you bribe Bob Kelly for a night at the Sheer Comfort Inn?”

That shook him out of his reverie. “Who says I bribed anyone?”

“Bob, for one.” Okay, that was really fudging things, but how was she going to get people to level with her by telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Ellington glowered. Tricia could almost read the thought balloon over his head. The slimy little bastard.

“Mr. Ellington, everyone knows”-except me apparently-“that Chamber members have to be at the meetings to win the monthly raffles. You weren’t in attendance the day the winners of the night’s stay at the inn were drawn. There’s only one way you could have won, and that was if Bob announced your name instead of the card he actually pulled. He isn’t known to be particularly generous.”

Ellington sighed, defeat making the lines around his eyes more pronounced. “I wanted to see the inn-to see what Pippa had done with it.”

“Why couldn’t you just visit?”

“Because her husband is the jealous type.”

Tricia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous?” she asked. That wasn’t the way Harry had described their relationship. He’d said it was essentially platonic.

He nodded. “Pippa refused to come and see me at the resort, and she wouldn’t let me visit her at her inn. All I wanted was an opportunity to talk to an old friend.” He shook his head. “But I figured if I won the raffle, her husband couldn’t complain.”

“He knew you were old friends?” Tricia asked.

“Who do you think got her the job?”

That verified what Frannie had said.

“If that’s the case, I would think she’d be eager to see you-to thank you. Or-” Here came a real leap in logic. “Was she afraid you two might pick up where you left off years ago?”

“I didn’t think so, and neither did Pippa. But I’m afraid my wife thought so.” Had she caught Ellington with his co-worker? If so, she had reason to distrust her husband.

“Why didn’t you bring your wife with you when you went to the inn?”

“As it happens, she’s out of town.”

“If she’s the jealous type, wouldn’t it look suspicious for you to go to the inn to see an old girlfriend-stay the night-without her?”

Ellington frowned. “I’m sorry, Ms. Miles, but you’re getting awfully personal. I allowed you to come in here thinking I might persuade you to stop asking questions, and instead, you’ve crossed the line.”

“I apologize. But we are talking about a murder that’s taken place in Stoneham. In a tourist destination like this, it behooves all of us to cooperate with the police and see that the murderer is quickly found so that our visitors will once again feel safe.”

“I agree. But I don’t know what else I can contribute to the investigation.”

Of course he did-the fact that he’d bribed Bob to give him the free pass to visit the inn. But she wasn’t about to press the issue. If he was the guilty party, he might just come after her. It was time to leave with discretion.

Tricia stood. “Thank you for speaking with me, Mr. Ellington.”

“My pleasure,” he said, but it was obvious he was simply being polite-although that was as far as it went. He didn’t stand to see her out.

“I’ll see myself out,” she said, and turned.

“Why did you come here to talk to me?” Ellington asked, causing Tricia to turn. “You’d be better off talking to Bob Kelly. He’s the one with all the answers.”

Perhaps he was right. But she and Bob weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

She’d have to fix that and quick…unless there was another way, and there was only one person who could make that happen.

Now to persuade Angelica to help.

It was almost five when Tricia returned to Haven’t Got a Clue. Since it was the slow season, she wasn’t surprised to find the store devoid of customers and Linda and Mr. Everett seated in the reader’s nook exchanging a laugh.

“Looks like I’ve missed some fun,” she said.

“We were just talking,” Linda said, and moved to stand, but Tricia waved her back into her seat. She turned back to Mr. Everett. “And she wanted to return the book after she’d dropped it in the bathtub?”

Mr. Everett nodded. “She complained that the pages had swelled to such an extent that it wouldn’t sit well on her bookshelf.”

“And you accepted the return?”

“Ms. Miles okayed it in the name of good customer service,” he replied.

“It paid off in the long run,” Tricia said as she took off her coat, carefully folded it, and laid it over her left arm. “She came back a couple of weeks later and bought more than two hundred dollars’ worth of merchandise.”

Linda shook her head. “I guess I have a lot to learn about the book business.”

“And we shall be pleased to teach you,” Mr. Everett said.

“Have you had many customers since I left?” Tricia asked.

“Two or three,” Linda said.

Tricia frowned. It really didn’t pay for her to have two people on the sales floor when she had a distinct shortage of paying customers coming through the door.

As though reading her mind, Mr. Everett spoke up. “If it’s all right with you, Ms. Miles, starting tomorrow I shall go back to the hours I kept before Ginny left us.” He looked at Linda and beamed. “I know between the two of you that Haven’t Got a Clue will be in good hands when I’m absent.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Tricia said with a grin. Mr. Everett always took everything so seriously.

“And fear not,” he said, joining her in a smile, “tomorrow I will be working at the Happy Domestic for several hours. It will be good to spend time with Ginny again on a regular basis.”

“Oh. With Pixie gone, I thought you might decide to spend some time with Grace at the charitable foundation.”

Mr. Everett’s smile evaporated, and he shook his head. “When I owned my own store I discouraged family members from working together. It made for added tension, which wasn’t good for employee morale-or the morale of the related employees, either.”

“But surely she needs someone right away to keep the work from piling up.”

“I’m afraid she needs more than just a receptionist. She should have hired someone with far more experience who can take a greater role in helping her run the foundation.” And with that, his gaze shifted to Linda, who stared fixedly at the floor.

I will not offer up Linda-I won’t. I need her, Tricia thought, and instantly felt guilty.

Linda said nothing.

“I’d better hang up my coat,” Tricia said.

“And I should get mine,” Mr. Everett said, and rose from his chair.

Tricia waved him to stay put. “I’ll get it.” As she walked to the back of the store, she could feel both pairs of eyes on her. Rats! She’d taken a chance hiring Linda, and although it had been only a couple of days, she seemed to fit in well so far. The idea of going through the whole interview process again did more than depress Tricia.

She returned to the readers’ nook with Mr. Everett’s coat. “I guess we’ll see you on Saturday, then.”

“That you will,” he said as he slid his arms into the sleeves. They watched in silence as he zippered the coat. “Good night, ladies,” he said, and headed for the door. He paused, then looked over to where Miss Marple lay on her perch behind the register. “And good night to you, too, Miss Marple.”

Miss Marple gave a languid “Yow!”

After the door had closed behind him, Tricia tried not to look at her new assistant manager. The quiet was