A Killer Edition

by Lorna Barrett

  “Try one,” Donna said, and picked up one.

  Tricia did likewise, feeling a little guilty, but she needed to test the candy to see if it would pass muster. No doubt about it, the little books were not the same quality chocolate as what Donna sold to the Coffee Bean. There was no pronounced snap of tempered chocolate, and in fact the chocolate melted at her touch, but they weren’t any worse than an everyday chocolate bar, either. They would look cute and be an acceptable addition to her cupcake.

  Now she just had to make a final decision on what flavor cupcake to bake.

  * * *

  * * *

  Tricia walked Donna to the door and told her she’d call after the Bake-Off.

  “Good luck,” Donna said as she passed Pixie on the sidewalk.

  “Isn’t that Donna from Shaw’s bakery department?” Pixie asked as she headed for the back of the sales counter to stash her purse.

  “Um, yes. It was. We’re . . . friends.”

  Pixie’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  Tricia moved to stand on the other side of the counter. “You’re a woman with many talents,” she began.

  “Ha! You make me blush,” Pixie said.

  “Have you ever made chocolates?”

  Tricia could almost read Pixie’s thoughts. So that’s what you’re up to!

  “I’m not really into cooking, but when Christmas rolls around, I’ve been known to don an apron and make something totally fattening. My friend Claire, she did some craft shows between stints in the joint. I helped her make some little chocolate pumpkins on a stick and wrap them in cellophane.”

  “Did you use a mold?”

  “Oh, sure. And it was so easy. We put candy melt wafers in a glass bowl in the microwave for like thirty seconds, then stirred them until they were all melty. We used a baby spoon to fill each mold, then shoved them in the fridge for fifteen or so minutes, which gave us time for a coffee break; then we turned them out on a piece of parchment paper. Done!”

  Perhaps Tricia could have just consulted Pixie for candy-making tips and saved a few bucks.

  “Are you making candy?” Pixie inquired.

  “Well . . . sort of. I’m really getting into the whole dessert thing and considering my options for the Bake-Off.”

  Pixie nodded but made no comment in that regard. “What’s on tap for today?”

  Tricia shrugged. “I’m still bothered by Vera Olson’s murder. I need an excuse to go back to Pets-A-Plenty and ask more questions about her. It might be that her fellow volunteers knew her best.”

  “Here’s an idea; why don’t you hit up some of the board members to sponsor you for the Bake-Off?” Pixie suggested. “You said you didn’t have many of them.”

  Tricia’s eyes widened in anticipation. “That’s a great idea. Why didn’t I think of it?”

  “Maybe you’ve been preoccupied.”

  Was it that noticeable?

  “I think I’ll grab my purse and go right now. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  And at that moment, Tricia was entirely grateful.

  NINETEEN

  In no time at all, Tricia had arrived in Milford, parked her car, and headed up the walk into the Pets-A-Plenty shelter. The door opened and a vaguely familiar woman stepped outside with a beagle on a leash. She looked past Tricia and strode right by her.

  “Wait!” Tricia called.

  The woman stopped but didn’t turn.

  Tricia walked over to join her, and the little dog sniffed the grass before squatting.

  “Didn’t you just adopt a dog last week?”

  The woman forced a smile. “Why, yes.”

  “And now you’re getting another one?”

  “No. I’m taking Jasper here for a walk. I’m a volunteer at the shelter.” She wore a T-shirt with the Pets-A-Plenty logo on it but didn’t sport a name badge. “We often take the dogs out for walks. It helps in our evaluations to make sure they’re fully socialized and ready for their forever homes.”

  Jasper pulled at the leash. It was obvious the young dog hadn’t had any kind of obedience training. Perhaps the rescue left that up to the new owners.

  “Do you like volunteering here at the shelter?” Tricia asked.

  The woman looked perturbed. “Of course. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t find the work satisfying.”

  “Sorry.” Tricia bent down to give the dog a pat on the head. His tail wagged in ferocious little circles as he lapped up the attention.

  “I’d better get going,” the woman said, gave the leash a tug, and started dragging the puppy forward.

  Tricia watched them head down the sidewalk, remembering what volunteer Cori had told her about Monterey Bioresources and the missing animals. Still feeling uncomfortable, she pivoted and started back for the shelter. Inside, the place felt strangely empty. Tricia walked up to the reception counter, where an unfamiliar woman stared intently at a computer screen.

  “Excuse me.” The woman looked up. “I’m Tricia Miles. I’m a replacement candidate for the board of directors. Are any of them on the premises?”

  The woman behind the counter shook her head. The name tag on the polo shirt emblazoned with the Pets-A-Plenty logo said DOREEN. “Sorry, I’m the only one in the building. Everyone else is out to lunch.”

  At eleven thirty? “When will they be back?”

  “After one.”

  Tricia nodded, disappointed. “Then I guess I’ll come back later this afternoon.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Tricia turned and headed for the door, feeling vaguely disconcerted. On all her other visits to the shelter, she’d found the volunteers to be extremely friendly and outgoing. Now she’d met two in the space of five minutes who seemed not only standoffish, but tight-lipped as well.

  As Tricia walked toward her car, she looked up to see the woman with the beagle puppy down the street a ways putting the dog into a crate in the back of a black SUV. She watched as the woman got into the vehicle and took off, heading toward the highway.

  On impulse, Tricia retraced her steps and entered the shelter once more. “Excuse me,” she called, and Doreen the receptionist reappeared from behind the employees-only back room.

  “I met a woman outside who said she was walking one of your dogs, but I just saw her get into a car with the puppy and drive off.”

  “She’s taking him to the vet.”

  “But she just told me she was taking Jasper for a walk.”

  “She did that, too. It’s not at all unusual,” Doreen said blandly.

  Tricia nodded.

  Doreen stood there, looking bored. “I’m sorry, but I really need to get some work done.”

  “Sure,” Tricia said, unsettled that she’d been so bluntly dismissed. She gave the woman a halfhearted smile and retraced her steps to her car. As she pulled out of the empty lot, she looked back and saw Doreen standing at the shelter’s front door, watching her.

  * * *

  * * *

  With no immediate goal and an hour and more to kill, Tricia found herself heading for the Wadleigh Memorial Library on Nashua Street. As it turned out, they were having a book sale. Since the stock was getting low at Haven’t Got a Clue, Tricia took her time perusing the titles, scoring several copies of Agatha Christie reprints and a couple of older cookbooks for the Cookery. After that, she ended up at a small café and bought herself a cup of coffee, taking time to go through one of the old cookbooks, which had probably been a donation, as there were no filing numbers attached to the spine.

  Since she’d taken an interest in cooking, Tricia had come to enjoy leafing through old cookbooks like the ones her grandmother had owned and was sorry she hadn’t shown an interest in food prep until recently. How she would have loved to have quizzed her Grandma Miles on how to make t
hose featherlight biscuits she used to prepare on Saturday mornings or the crusts that topped the from-scratch fruit pies she made during the summer. Angelica had memories of those times, and Tricia vowed she would ask her sister to share some of those stories.

  It was then Tricia remembered her standing lunch date with Angelica at Booked for Lunch. She probably wouldn’t make it if she hoped to talk to some of the board members. Pulling out her phone, she texted Angelica. Sorry to stand you up two days in a row.

  Not a problem. Will get a quick bite and keep working at the day spa. See you tonight.

  Tricia ordered a half BLT sandwich and a cup of vegetable soup and ate them at a leisurely pace. After all, she didn’t have an appointment and wanted to make sure someone from the board would have returned to the shelter. She didn’t want to be disappointed again.

  It was 1:10 when Tricia returned to the Pets-A-Plenty site and once again strode up to the reception desk. This time, another younger woman was on duty. She wore the same polo shirt and her name tag said AUDREY. “Hi, can I help you?” she asked brightly, much more friendly than Doreen had been.

  “I was told earlier that one or more of the board members might be available to see me this afternoon. I’m Tricia Miles, one of the candidates for the open board seat.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard your name being mentioned. You own a bookstore in Stoneham.”

  “Yes.”

  “Ms. Shore is in the main office. Let me ask if she has time to visit with you.”

  The woman disappeared and soon came back. “She said come on back.” Tricia followed the woman past the employees-only door.

  The shelter’s main office was really just a large room with several desks with computers sitting on them. Rebecca Shore sat behind one of them with a smattering of printed spreadsheets scattered across the desk.

  “Hey, Rebecca,” Tricia called.

  “Tricia, what a nice surprise. Please, have a seat. What brings you here on a non-meeting day?”

  Tricia settled on the brown-painted metal folding chair beside Rebecca’s desk. “I’m participating in the Great Booktown Bake-Off next week and Pets-A-Plenty is my designated charity. I was hoping I might get one or more of the shelter directors to sponsor me.”

  Rebecca grinned. “Talk about a small world. I’m signed up for the Bake-Off, too—as is Toby Kingston.”

  “Toby is a cupcake baker?”

  “Among his other charms,” Rebecca said sarcastically. “I’m afraid we’ve got the whole place sewn up when it comes to sponsors. In fact, some of the volunteers have sponsored both of us.”

  “Oh, dear.” Tricia looked around the room, finding it unusual that the only paid employee—Toby—wasn’t on the premises. She would have liked to have spoken to him about her earlier encounter with the staff. As he wasn’t all that interested in talking to her during meetings, perhaps it would be better to just confide in Rebecca. But first, she had another question.

  “About Toby . . . Do you know why he’s taken such a dislike to me?”

  Rebecca’s gaze dipped and she shrugged. She knew something, but she wasn’t about to tell. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I think that’s a subject you should take up with him.”

  Tricia nodded. “How did he feel about Vera Olson?”

  “You didn’t hear it from me,” she said, leaning forward and speaking confidentially, “but he thought she had an inflated ego and believed that only she knew how the shelter should be run. On more than one occasion he reminded her—and in front of other staff—that she was only a volunteer and if she continued to be insubordinate, she could be replaced. We lost a few of our helpers because of that.”

  Which helped explain the lack of volunteers two days before. “Did the board call him on it?”

  “We should have,” Rebecca said guiltily. “But then he’s just as likely to take a swipe at one of us. After all, we’re only volunteers, too.”

  “But surely your charter gives you the right to overrule him if he doesn’t act in the best interest of the organization.”

  “We’d be hard-pressed to prove that. Donations are up thirty-four percent since Toby came on board. Our costs have dropped by ten percent, too. It’s hard to argue with those kinds of results.”

  Yes, it was.

  “Did Toby and Vera ever have shouting matches?”

  “A few times, but for the past couple of weeks Vera seemed subdued—and it was after she’d had a private conversation with Toby.”

  What could Toby have said that would have cowed Vera? Was there something fishy going on within the shelter?

  “How often did Vera volunteer?”

  “We have a schedule. Our volunteers sign up and we try to accommodate them, but Vera was like a piece of the furniture. She was here most days of the week—and often came in to feed the animals and clean cages on holidays, too.”

  Tricia frowned. Hadn’t someone said that touching the cats and dogs gave Vera an allergic reaction? Maybe she didn’t actually touch them when feeding or cleaning up after them.

  “Is something wrong?” Rebecca asked.

  “I was just thinking. Which reminds me, I was here during the lunch hour, and something kind of odd happened. I ran into a volunteer who said she was taking a puppy for a walk, but then she loaded the dog into an SUV and drove away with it.”

  “There’s nothing odd about that at all,” Rebecca said flippantly. “We want to make sure all the pets we home are socialized. The puppy went to the Milford Animal Hospital for shots. It’s just standard procedure.”

  “That’s what the woman at the desk said.”

  Rebecca nodded, smiling faintly. “Doreen mentioned your concerns. She said Cheryl was taking the dog to the vet for its shots.”

  “Do you know this woman, Cheryl?”

  Rebecca looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. We have a lot of volunteers—over a hundred, in fact. I’m in and out of here throughout the week, and some of our helpers are only here a couple of hours a month. I’m sure I haven’t met everyone. I’m looking forward to the Mutt Strut as an opportunity to meet not only with the people who’ve given our dogs forever homes but also with members of the staff who are participating, too. You should come with your sister. It’s a lot of fun.”

  Tricia nodded. “Maybe I will.” She stood. “Thanks for taking the time to see me, Rebecca.”

  “You’re welcome here, anytime. And good luck at the Bake-Off—but not too much. I want to win, too.”

  Tricia couldn’t help but smile. “May the best baker win.”

  TWENTY

  Though she’d left Pets-A-Plenty on good terms with Rebecca, Tricia still had a problem. Who was she going to get to sponsor her for the Bake-Off? Perhaps Antonio and Ginny would be willing, but then, they’d probably already sponsored Angelica. Would they be open to sponsoring her as well? She’d give Ginny a call later. And she wondered if the Everett Foundation might be willing to sponsor her, too. She could always ask Grace.

  Angelica probably had asked all the people in her employ to sponsor her—and who was going to say no to her? Not that their jobs would be in jeopardy, but Angelica had a way of finagling everything she wanted.

  Tricia was still pondering the problem of sponsorship when she parked her car in the municipal lot, retrieved the books she’d purchased at the sale, transferring them to a canvas bag that she kept in her trunk for just such purposes, and started back for her shop. Lost in thought, she was startled when the door to the Patisserie burst open and Nikki Brimfield-Smith popped out in a frosting-stained chef’s jacket.

  “I understand you’ve entered the Bake-Off,” she said contemptuously.

  “Uh, yes. I was the last contestant to sign up.”

  Nikki scowled. “What makes you think you’ve got the chops to run up against a trained pâtissier like me?”

  “I’m not
competing against you. Just other talented amateurs.”

  Apparently, that reply hadn’t satisfied Nikki, whose scowl only deepened. “You think you’re so special—that you can accomplish anything.”

  Tricia wasn’t sure to how to respond to that remark, so she stood there, just staring at the woman.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Nikki taunted.

  “What is your problem? If you’re still smarting about your breakup with Russ, don’t blame me for your marital problems.” He was the last man on the planet she’d want to be with—and even Russ understood that.

  “He was never in love with you. He only wanted you because you rejected him.”

  Tricia shook her head sadly. “I wonder what your mother would say about your snide attitude and the terrible things you’ve said to me in the last year or so.”

  Nikki’s eyes blazed. It was Tricia who had engineered a reunion between Nikki and her estranged mother some five years before. Tricia had last seen Fiona Sample eighteen months ago during and after the Authors at Sea cruise, and she couldn’t have been nicer. Nikki had decided to feel bitter toward Tricia despite there being no reason other than pure spite.

  “You won’t win the Bake-Off,” Nikki tried again.

  “You’re probably right, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun during the competition. I doubt you will,” she said, and turned on her heel.

  “Well, you won’t have any fun at Pets-A-Plenty, either,” Nikki called after her.

  Tricia stopped and pivoted, puzzled by the remark. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that the only way you could get on their board was to try and buy your way in.”

  Tricia frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Why don’t you ask Mr. Everett? People in the village are talking about how his charitable foundation has offered Pets-A-Plenty a hefty donation—but only if they take you on.”

  This was news to Tricia. She practically had to bite her tongue to keep from asking for more details. She wasn’t about to give Nikki the satisfaction.