typing up sales copy. Second, if she isn’t on duty, Bob’s paranoid-he keeps that place locked up tighter than Fort Knox even if he’s just ducking next door to the Chamber headquarters.”
“Can’t you tell him you’ll only talk to him out on the sidewalk? If you can get him outside and keep his back turned to his office for just five minutes-probably less-it would give me plenty of time to go through all his pockets.”
Angelica looked unconvinced. “Five minutes is a heck of a long time. If the conversation goes bad and he stomps back to his office while you’re still in there, you’d better have a pretty good excuse ready for him. But you know, no matter what you tell him, he’s going to see right through you. Bob may be a jerk, but he’s not a fool.”
“You still care about him, don’t you?” Tricia as much as accused.
“Well, of course I do. Sort of. Despite what you think, Bob’s a complicated person. He overcame adversity-a terrible early childhood-and then put himself through college, not to mention almost single-handedly saving the entire village of Stoneham.”
Angelica sounded like a one-woman Bob Kelly fan club.
“And he cheated on you with a low-class bimbo.” As soon as she said the words, Tricia regretted it. Angelica didn’t need to be reminded of Bob’s betrayal. Still, Tricia had never warmed to the idea of the two of them as a couple and was not unhappy when Angelica’s feelings toward Bob had cooled to almost arctic temperatures.
Angelica removed a large grocery bag from the fridge and set it on the counter. It moved. “Am I supposed to call him? I really don’t want to do that.”
“Then the next time the phone rings…answer it.”
“And say what?”
“I don’t know…that you’re willing to listen to him?”
As if on cue, the phone rang. Angelica glanced at the caller ID. “It’s almost as if you’d arranged this.”
It rang again.
“So answer it.”
Angelica jerked the receiver from the wall. “Hello. Oh. Hello, Bob.”
Tricia gave her sister some privacy and wandered over to the window to look across the street. The lights were now off in Amy Schram’s apartment. She had a good idea why…and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
TWENTY-FOUR
Angelica hung up the phone. “There, happy?” she said, sounding anything but.
“Yes, thank you,” Tricia replied. “What did you tell him?”
Angelica checked on the pot of water, which had come to a rolling boil. “That I would speak to him outside his office tomorrow at eleven o’clock. That means you’ve got to get into position hiding on the north side of his realty office so that when he comes out the door, you can scoot right in.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Once he’s outside, I’ll start wandering south down the sidewalk toward the Chamber headquarters. You’ll have five minutes-no more-to do your dirty work.”
“Dirty work? Bob’s the guilty party here.”
“He’s already angry with me-he’ll be even more upset when he finds out I tricked him into leaving his office so you could go in to snoop.” Angelica took a lobster out of the bag and held it head down over the pot. Tricia turned away.
“You’re a good sister. And a good cook.” Or at least a brave one. Tricia didn’t think she could kill a living thing and then eat it. “When will it be ready to eat?”
Angelica glowered at her. Like Bob, she was no fool, either. “You just want to change the subject.”
“You are so right,” Tricia agreed. “Let’s break open the bubbly and celebrate your good fortune. I’m ready to make a toast.” She stepped over to the champagne bucket and withdrew the chilled wine. Angelica had already removed the foil, and Tricia unwound the wire cap while Angelica gathered up the flutes. The cork popped with a hiss and spray of tiny bubbles and Tricia poured. She took a glass and held it up in salute. “To
“I’ll drink to that,” Angelica said. They clinked glasses and drank.
Now all Tricia had to do was play sleuth and not get caught, because if Bob did catch her he could have her arrested for trespassing, malicious mischief, and goodness only knows what else. And what would Grant Baker have to say about that?
Sleep did not want to come that night. Though Miss Marple never even stirred through the entire night, Tricia tossed and turned, worrying about her plan to invade Bob Kelly’s office the next day. She turned on the light, read her book, turned off the light. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Tricia finally drifted off near dawn and then slept right through her alarm.
Feeling exhausted, she couldn’t even manage a brisk walk on her treadmill before dragging herself to the shower. Next she fed the cat, grabbed a tub of low-fat yogurt, and descended the stairs to Haven’t Got a Clue. Coffee wasn’t going to perk her up. She needed high-test caffeine and headed across the street to the Coffee Bean.
Mary Fairchild was standing in line behind two or three other customers when Tricia entered the store. She loved the mingled aromas of fresh ground coffee, chocolate, and cookies and pastries fresh from the Patisserie. If Nikki refused to sell to her she could always make a deal with the Coffee Bean’s owner, Alexa Kozlov, and pay her a surcharge to get them.
Dressed in her By Hook or By Book apron and a heavy cardigan, Mary stood there, slouching, her gaze unfocused, staring at nothing.
“Hey there, are you okay?” Tricia asked.
Mary seemed to snap to attention. “Oh, Tricia. Yes. I’m fine. I didn’t have a good night. I came in here for an espresso to get me going.”
“Bad nights must be contagious. I’m here for the same thing.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Mary admitted, “and…I’ve decided to leave the Tuesday Night Book Club.”
“Oh, no. Why?” Tricia asked.
Mary shook her head. “I don’t think I can read and enjoy a mystery story ever again. Not now that I’ve actually known a murder victim.”
The man in front of Mary, who’d obviously been eavesdropping, turned to give her a curious look, but she seemed oblivious to him.
“I’m so sorry you feel that way. The books we read
“Yes, but-” She shuddered. “I only knew Pippa Comfort for an hour or so; she seemed like a nice person. For someone to treat her so brutally and leave her lying on the cold damp ground…” She closed her eyes and shuddered again.
Tricia rested a comforting hand on Mary’s arm. “I understand. We’ve enjoyed having you as a member.”
That meant the group had lost two members in less than a week. If any more jumped ship, it wouldn’t be worth holding the meetings. Then again, that would give Tricia more free time to either maintain her website or return to her long-neglected hobby of book repair. Or-and most appealing-give her more time to read! She almost smiled.
“If you have a change of heart, just let me know,” Tricia said.
“I’ll do that.”
It was Mary’s turn to step up to the counter and give her order. Tricia waited patiently for her turn when she felt a pair of eyes upon her. She turned to find Harry Tyler standing behind her. “Good morning. We seem to keep bumping into each other a lot lately.”
“Yes. You’re out bright and early.”
“Actually, I should be back at the inn packing. I’m out of a home and need to find a place to live.”
