“Then what? He would have shot himself in front of me?” Tricia asked, anguished.
Adams shook her head. “No. He planned to return to the place where he’d dumped Greenwell’s body.”
That wasn’t a much better solution. Then some hapless hiker would have found him and been just as distraught as Angelica had been after seeing his lifeless corpse.
“The gun he used . . . it wasn’t his own, was it?” Tricia asked.
Adams shook her head. “It was registered to Marshall Cambridge.”
As she’d suspected, Baker had taken it when he’d searched Marshall’s apartment.
“I believe it may have been used to kill Joshua Greenwell, too,” Tricia said.
“We’re having it tested, but Chief Baker confessed he did use it for that purpose. He’d originally planned to dispose of the gun, but as the incidents mounted, he apparently changed his mind.”
The deaths of five people were being described as mere incidents?
“What happens now?” Tricia asked.
“It’s pretty much an open-and-shut case. We tie up the loose ends and go about our business,” Adams said succinctly.
As though Grant Baker had never lived.
Tricia was pretty sure business as usual was going to be pretty hard to replicate in the coming weeks.
Adams stood and reached out a hand to touch Tricia’s shoulder. “I know you once had feelings for Chief Baker. I’m sorry it had to end this way.”
“Thank you.” What more could she say? She stood and walked Adams to the door. “Good-bye, Sheriff Adams.”
“Good-bye, Ms. Miles.”
Tricia closed the door behind the sheriff and headed back to her seat in the reader’s nook. She was about to sit down when the little hinged brass flap marked LETTERS on her door opened and the daily mail was dropped inside. Tricia turned to retrieve the stack of envelopes. It consisted of bills, the usual junk mail, but one letter was addressed to her with no return address, although the handwriting was hauntingly familiar.
She tore open the envelope and sat down to read the letter.
Dear Tricia,
If you’re reading this, I’m now dead. Hopefully you will have heard about it from some other source and so this letter won’t be a shock.
I just wanted to let you know how much I love you. I had to break off my engagement with Diana because she was no match for you.
I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you and was too stupid and pigheaded to see that having you by my side would mean more than my career aspirations. Christopher realized it too late, and so did Russ Smith, and, I’m sure, Marshall Cambridge, too.
I’ve left instructions but wanted to let you know that I’ve taken care of both you and Mandy.
His ex-wife.
Above all, I want you to be happy. Find someone to love who will truly appreciate you, because I sure failed you.
All my love,
Grant
Tricia wiped a tear from her eye and set the letter on the coffee table.
Love? she thought bitterly. The man hadn’t known the meaning of the word. If he had, he would never have put her through the terrible shades of negativity that now burdened her soul.
So, he’d taken care of her in his will. She guessed he hadn’t noticed that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t want his money, but she knew of plenty of charities who could benefit from such a gift.
Clearing her throat, Tricia retrieved the letter and stuffed it back into its envelope. Then she picked up her phone, tapped her contacts list, and made a call.
“Hi, Ange. It’s me, your sister. How would you like to take a magical mystery vacation?”
“I can be packed in twenty minutes.”
THIRTY-SIX
Although Thanksgiving was still a week away, the Brookview Inn was already decorated for Christmas, with a twelve-foot faux fir tree in the center of the lobby, laden with sparkling gold ornaments and twinkling white lights.
Members of the Stoneham Chamber of Commerce had filed in almost an hour earlier and enjoyed the inn’s spectacular continental breakfast, which included six different pastries, coffee, tea, cocoa, and juices, all courtesy of Nigela Ricita Associates. Leona Ferguson and Terry McDonald had been drafted to run for Chamber president, and the ballots had already been passed out, the voting completed, and collected once again. Mary Fairchild and Dan Reed had retreated to the back of the room to tabulate the votes. As much as Tricia liked Leona, she thought Terry seemed to have better managerial skills. He would need them to pull the Chamber out of its financial hole.
The preceding weeks had been quiet, which was fine with Tricia. But life had gone on in the village, despite the events of October. Becca had taken up part-time residence in the village, splitting her time in a condo she’d rented in Milford and her home outside of Boston. Ava had become her biggest fan, and she seemed to be getting the hang of running a retail establishment. She’d even joined the Chamber.
Tricia glanced across the room to see that Louise Jameson sat at one of the tables for eight and right beside Becca. It seemed the women had become quite friendly. They’d invited Tricia to several of their coffee klatches, but so far she’d turned them down. She just wasn’t up to socializing. Not quite yet. From what she’d heard, Louise was trying to untangle the financial cat’s cradle her husband had left behind, but rumor had it she’d be successful in getting to copyright her work in her own name. That was one triumph for her.
Ginny and Antonio sat on the other side of the table with Angelica between them. They’d been in animated conversation about the architect’s plans they’d received just the evening before, spreading out the drawings on the table and debating the pros and cons. It looked like Ginny would be the outright winner of that discussion. The original house and property had, after all, been hers.
Tricia and Angelica had not gone to Martha’s Vineyard, but they had traveled to New York, where they’d had tea at the Ritz-Carlton, watched a couple of Broadway shows, and even visited Tiffany’s. It didn’t change what had happened, but it was a welcome respite. And by the time their week of vacation had ended, they were ready to face life in their adopted hometown once again.
Mary had taken Mark Jameson’s place as the de facto head of the Chamber but had confided to Tricia that “I wouldn’t want this job on a permanent basis,” and was eager to hand off the responsibility to either Terry or Leona. She and Dan moved to stand at the front of the dining room, with Mary moving behind the lectern. Neither of them looked happy. Mary called the meeting to order.
“We seem to have a problem,” she began, and adjusted the reading glasses perched on her nose. In one hand she held a piece of paper which she consulted. “It seems we have a tie.”
“Oh, no,” Tricia groaned. The voting the year before had been so close, and now they had a tie!
“How could that happen?” Leona called out.
“We have fifty-two members and forty-eight of us voted today.”
“How do we break the tie? Do we vote again?” Terry asked.
“Well, that all depends if the write-in candidates agree to serve.”
“Write-in candidates?” Leona asked.
“Who are they?” Terry asked.
Tricia felt her whole body sag with dread.
“Angelica and Tricia Miles. They both received twenty votes each!”
“I propose they both serve,” hollered Claire Rawlings from Tails and Tales.
“I second that,” called Billie Hanson from the Bank of Stoneham.
Mary sighed. “Tricia, Angelica—what do you say?”
Tricia glared at her sister, who shrugged—but then grinned.
Tricia stood and gave a weary sigh. “We accept.”
RECIPES
TRICIA’S APPLE CRISP
INGREDIENTS
4 medium tart cooking apples, sliced (4 cups)
¾ cup packed brown sugar
½ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup quick-cooking or old-fashioned oats
⅓ cup butter, softened
¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg
Whipped cream or ice cream, optional
Preheat the oven to 375ºF (190ºC, Gas Mark 5). Grease the bottom and sides of an 8-inch-square pan. Spread the apples in the pan. In a medium bowl, stir together the sugar, flour, oats, butter, and spices until well mixed; sprinkle over the apples. Bake about 30 minutes, or until the topping is golden brown and the apples are tender. Serve warm with whipped cream or ice cream if desired.
Yield: 6 servings
TOMMY’S BEER DIP
INGREDIENTS
2 packages (8 ounces each) cream cheese, softened
⅓ cup any kind of beer or nonalcoholic beer
1 envelope ranch salad dressing mix
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese (mild or sharp)
Pretzels
In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese, beer, and dressing mix until smooth. Stir in the cheddar cheese. Serve with pretzels.
Yield: 3½ cups
GARLIC CHEESE DIP
INGREDIENTS
8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
½ cup mayonnaise
1 cup sour cream
4 heads garlic, roasted
½ teaspoon garlic salt
2 cups freshly shredded mozzarella cheese
½ cup freshly shredded Parmesan cheese
¼ cup fresh minced parsley, plus some for garnish (or 1 to 2 tablespoons, dried)
Toasted bread crostini or crackers
Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC, Gas Mark 4). Grease a small baking dish with nonstick cooking spray. In a medium-sized bowl, beat the cream cheese, mayonnaise, and sour cream with an electric mixer until smooth. Stir in the roasted garlic and garlic salt, then stir in the cheeses and parsley. Pour into a small baking dish. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes, or until the edges are golden brown and the cheeses are melted and bubbly. Garnish with fresh minced parsley and serve with crackers or toasted bread for dipping.
Yield: approximately 3 cups
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lorna Barrett is the New York Times bestselling author of the Booktown Mysteries, including Poisoned Pages and A Just Clause.
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Booktown Mystery 15 - A Deadly Deletion Page 28