And who else was talking about it?
Tricia said nothing and turned, starting off for her store once more, leaving Nikki to laugh derisively in her wake. She passed by the Have a Heart romance bookstore but didn’t dare look in the window. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to Joyce, either, and quickened her pace.
Tricia was still feeling shaky as she entered Haven’t Got a Clue. Inside, Pixie and Mr. Everett were standing by the cash desk, sharing a laugh. It was so seldom the older man chuckled that Tricia felt even more disconcerted. They looked up at her entrance.
“Are you all right?” Pixie asked, her humor pivoting to anxiety.
“Why?”
“You’re white as a sheet.”
“I just heard something that kind of shook me.”
Pixie moved from behind the cash desk and grabbed the canvas bag in one hand and Tricia’s arm in the other, leading her to the reader’s nook. “Sit down before you fall down.”
“I’m okay,” Tricia protested, but Pixie insisted. She and Mr. Everett took the other seats.
“Now, what’s wrong?” Pixie asked.
For a moment, Tricia thought she might cry. She had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak. She looked at her employee—her friend—her surrogate father.
“Is it true that the Everett Foundation made the promise of a substantial contribution to the Pets-A-Plenty Animal Rescue on the condition that they appoint me to their board?”
Mr. Everett’s eyes widened and then he quickly looked away. “I—I have very little to do with the actual distribution of funds through the foundation,” he hedged.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Tricia said.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to speak to Grace about that.”
That was just as evasive an answer. Tricia wasn’t sure how she felt about the situation. Did Grace think she couldn’t get the job on her own? Obviously, yes, because she hadn’t been able to get the job on her own, at least not so far.
“Please, Ms. Miles. I know Grace has the utmost respect for you and your abilities. She wouldn’t have done it to hurt you in any way. I believe she only wanted to help you achieve something you wanted to do and would be very good at. She knows how much Miss Marple and Sarge mean to you, and that we wouldn’t have Mikey and Penny if you hadn’t allowed us to care for Miss Marple last year.”
Tricia still wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. Hurt, yes, but she understood the reasoning behind Grace’s actions—kindness—and Tricia wouldn’t fault her for that.
“I understand,” she said simply. But Tricia also knew that if Toby Kingston didn’t like her and merely tolerated her presence, not only would it be detrimental to the shelter, but the tension could impact everyone at the rescue operation. Toby had already made it unpleasant for her. Might he grow even more resentful if she was a permanent member of the board?
Now that she knew, Tricia saw no other course but to ask Grace to withdraw her name from consideration. She also knew it was a discussion that had best be made in person.
“Ms. Miles,” Mr. Everett began once again. “We know how much you wanted to make a difference for poor kitties and dogs that need homes. I assure you that Grace has only your best interests at heart—as do I.”
Tricia tried to smile. “I know that. It’s just . . .” But she couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she stood.
“If you’d like to speak to Grace, she’s working in her office today.”
On a Saturday?
As though sensing her unspoken question, Mr. Everett answered, “It seems Grace’s secretary needs a day off next week, so they decided to put in a full day today.”
“Then I think I’d better go see Grace right now and straighten this out.” Again, Tricia looked at her employees. “Please don’t call her before I can speak to her.” She waited until both Pixie and Mr. Everett had given her their promises, then she headed out the door. Less than a minute later, Tricia entered the second-floor office of the Everett Foundation. As usual, the secretary, Linda, sat behind a computer screen at her desk. “Tricia. This is a welcome surprise. What brings you here today?”
“Is Grace available? I really need to speak to her.”
“As a matter of fact, she is. But she’s with someone right now. Can you wait a few minutes?”
Tricia considered her options: flee and never speak of what she’d learned—which was ridiculous; she’d already spoken to Grace’s husband about it—or put on her big girl panties and let Grace know that her actions were not only out of line, but insulting.
No, she couldn’t be that rude. She knew it was kindness, and probably love, that had caused Grace to intervene on her behalf. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
Tricia sat in one of the upholstered chairs covered in a nondescript gray fabric. The foundation meant for its funds to go to worthy causes—not fancy offices with expensive art and splendid furnishings.
Still feeling shell-shocked, Tricia sat there, trying to come up with the right wording to express everything she felt, and in a nonjudgmental way, when the door to Grace’s office opened and a man in a rather shabby suit walked out. Grace followed.
“Thank you for seeing me and considering my request,” the man said as he headed for the exit.
“Good-bye,” Grace said, and then noticed Tricia’s presence. “Tricia, dear. What are you doing here?” Grace asked, her tone one of delight.
Tricia rose from her seat. “Linda thought you might have a few minutes to spare so we could chat.”
“Of course. Come right in.”
Grace ushered Tricia in and then closed the door to the outer office. Tricia took a seat in front of Grace’s desk, identical to the one she’d just sat on in the reception room. It was just as uncomfortable.
Grace took her seat and leaned forward, her hands folded on the desktop, looking cheerful. “Now, what can I do for you?”
Tricia took a deep breath. “It’s about my being considered a candidate for the Pets-A-Plenty board of directors.”
The sparkle in Grace’s eyes seemed to wane. “Oh.”
“I heard, via the grapevine, that the Everett Foundation promised a big donation if the shelter were to take me on.”
Grace let out a weary sigh. “I’m sorry you heard about that.”
“No more than me,” Tricia said truthfully. “But I guess it’s better that I did. I’d like you to withdraw my name.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested the idea if I didn’t think you would be fantastic in the job.”
“I know, Grace, but I feel sure that if my presence was forced upon them that I’d never have the respect of the board. Heck, I don’t have Toby Kingston’s respect right now—and I suspect it’s because of my being inflicted upon the organization.”
“Have the others treated you badly?”
“No, but then I’m not sure they know why I was even suggested for the open seat.”
The two women were silent for several long, awkward moments, and Tricia could see that it was hard for Grace to look her in the eye.
Finally, Grace spoke. “I’ll speak to Toby.”
“And remove my name from consideration?”
“Only if he says he hasn’t found you qualified for the job.”
“Grace—”
“I believe in you, Tricia. I think you would be a sensational asset to the shelter.”
“Thank you, Grace.”
“Is there some way I can make this up to you?” the older woman asked sincerely.
Tricia thought about it for a moment. “Well, you could sponsor me in the Great Booktown Bake-Off.”
“Consider it done. And what’s your charity?”
“Pets-A-Plenty.”
Grace nodded. “We’ve donated to them on a number of occasions. They were very helpful when we ado
pted Charlie, Mikey, and Penny.”
“Did you ever meet Vera Olson there?” Tricia asked.
“I don’t believe so. Of course, I knew of her when she was on the school board, but that’s about all.”
Tricia nodded and rose. “I guess I’d better—” She was about to say “get back to work,” but that wasn’t true. “Head back home,” she said instead. She stood and so did Grace.
“My dear, I hope this little misunderstanding won’t stand in the way of our friendship.”
Tricia managed a smile. “Not a chance.” She stepped forward and gave Grace a hug. Though she was nothing like her beloved grandmother, Grace had easily followed in Grandma Miles’s footsteps when it came to dispensing unconditional love.
Grace pulled back. “And I’ll see you at our family dinner tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Tricia said, giving her friend a smile. “Until tomorrow.”
Tricia exited the office and headed for the door.
“Nice to see you again,” Linda called, and Tricia gave her a halfhearted wave.
Tricia hadn’t gone more than three steps down when her ringtone sounded. She decided to answer it in the stairwell rather than face the noise out on the street. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was local. “Hello?”
“Hi, Tricia, it’s Donna North.”
“Hi, Donna. What can I do for you?”
“It’s what I might be able to do for you. I ran into my lawyer at the liquor store this afternoon and we had a little chat. He said it could take up to a year to settle my aunt’s estate. But he also gave me the okay to start disposing of her possessions. I can’t sell the house, but I can sell the contents as long as I put the money in an estate account.”
“Oh.” Tricia wasn’t sure what else to say.
“I can’t touch that money, but if I’m going to open a candy store, I need to get as much of this stuff done before I’m spending fifteen or sixteen hours a day on my business.”
“I see,” Tricia said, although she wasn’t sure she did.
“My aunt had a lot of books. Besides being an advocate for animals, she was also big on reading. I wondered if you could come and look at what she had and maybe buy some and give me some advice on how to unload the rest.”
“Did she read mysteries?”
“Yes—and romances, and she also had a lot of cookbooks.”
Tricia needed no more persuasion. “I’d be glad to. How about tomorrow? Are you free?”
“That would be great. Could you come to her house around ten?”
“Sure. My sister owns the Cookery, which sells vintage cookbooks and kitchen gadgets. Can I bring her along, too?”
“The more the merrier.”
“Fine. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tricia ended the call. Talk about a golden opportunity. Not only could visiting Vera Olson’s home help solve the problem of her dwindling stock, but she might just learn something that could point toward her killer.
Maybe—maybe not. She’d have to wait until the next day to find out.
TWENTY-ONE
When Tricia reentered Haven’t Got a Clue, she could see that Pixie was practically bursting at the seams to know what had gone on during Tricia’s conversation with Grace, but she didn’t ask and Tricia didn’t volunteer the information, either. As Tricia had suspected he would, Mr. Everett made himself scarce and had retreated behind one of the bookshelves so as not to have to deal with what could be an unpleasant situation. He needn’t have worried. As though to avert attention, Pixie asked about the contents of the canvas bag Tricia had brought in earlier.
“The Milford Library had a sale. I picked out the best of what they had in mystery and cooking. Those books are for Angelica.”
“We’ll need more than that to get through the month.”
“I’ve got an appointment tomorrow to look at the books from an estate that will be coming on the market soon.” She decided not to mention to whom the books had belonged.
“That’s good.”
“Would you like me to take the books down to the storeroom, Ms. Miles?” Mr. Everett asked.
She shook her head. “There are only a few. I’ll leave the cookbooks up here and take them over to Angelica after we close.”
The door opened and a man and woman entered the store, and Pixie went to help them, while Mr. Everett moved to stand behind the register.
Tricia removed the mysteries from the bag and stowed the bag behind the cash desk, then headed for her office-storeroom. Next, Tricia made herself busy by adding the books to her spreadsheet and printing out an inventory sheet. She shelved the books and checked the list against the stock in the basement. Pixie was right. The shelves down in her storeroom were approaching bare.
Tricia thought about all she had learned that day, and one thing stuck out: No matter what happened with Pets-A-Plenty, she at least owed it to the organization to find more people to sponsor her for the Bake-Off.
She sat down at her desk, pulled out her phone, signed in, and was about to tap her contacts button when she paused. Ginny was gearing up for the second annual Stoneham Wine and Jazz Festival. She’d done a splendid job the year before, but she’d found herself working twelve and fourteen hours a day. She often worked Saturdays, too. Tricia could wait a day and ask her at their family dinner but decided it might be harder for Ginny to say no in person if she was so inclined.
Tapping Ginny’s name, Tricia waited as the phone rang.
“Hi, Tricia. What’s up?” Ginny asked brightly.
“Am I calling at a bad time?”
“No. Sofia is down for a nap and I’m sitting on my butt and relaxing for the first time today. All week, really,” she said, and laughed. “I’m so missing our Thursday lunches. I can’t wait until the festival is over and we can resume them once again.”
“I miss our one-on-one chats, too.”
“But that’s not why you called.”
“I have a tremendously selfish favor to ask.”
“You—selfish? I don’t believe it. You’re the least selfish person I know. You and Angelica,” she added.
“I left it rather late to ask people to sponsor me for next week’s Bake-Off—”
“Consider it done. It’s got to be either you or Angelica who wins—at least that’s who I’ll be rooting for.”
“Thanks, Ginny, you’re a doll.”
“Naturally,” she said, and laughed again. “So what else is going on with you?”
“Not much.” And suddenly Tricia felt a tremendous urge to unburden her troubles. “Well, I did kind of . . . find a body on Monday.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ginny said, suddenly sobering. “I heard about that. I meant to call you, but—”
“Don’t worry about it. Since then, I’ve learned some disturbing things about the Pets-A-Plenty pet rescue and just this afternoon something almost equally unsettling.”
“Like what?”
“Like . . . Grace tried to bribe the shelter to give me a position on their board.”
“Oh, Tricia—no! I’m sure you’ve got that wrong.”
“I’ve spoken to Grace about it and it’s true.”
“Oh, Tricia . . . You had to know Grace is one hundred percent behind you. She would never—”
“I know—I know. But I have to admit it kind of hit me hard.”
“What did Angelica say?”
“I haven’t told her yet. I’ll save it for later when we have dinner.”
“What happens now?”
“I’ve asked Grace to withdraw my name from consideration. It’s only decent.”
“I understand how you feel. I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted to be of help to them and all the cats and dogs needing homes.”
And ferrets and guinea pigs, too.
“I’ve got plenty of othe
r things to do.”
“Like win that Bake-Off,” Ginny said encouragingly.
Tricia smiled. “Yeah.”
A cry sounded in the background. “It looks like Sofia is awake.”
“You’d better see to her. And we can talk more tomorrow.”
“I can’t tell you how much I look forward to our Sunday family dinners.”
“Me, too.”
Sofia wailed for her mama.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” Tricia said, and they ended the call.
Tricia set her phone down on the desk. She felt a little better about the whole Pets-A-Plenty mess and decided to dedicate the next few hours to trying to run down upcoming estate sales. She’d missed the boat by not heading out to look for tag sales that morning, so she checked eBay and Craigslist and made a few calls from tips she’d gotten via e-mail, but she wasn’t much further ahead when it came to finding more inventory. Haven’t Got a Clue’s new assistant manager was doing far too good a job at selling the store’s stock. Tricia would just have to hope Vera Olson’s book collection could help her out of this jam.
She winced. Estate sales always made her feel a bit ghoulish—pawing through the possessions of the recently departed. Tricia didn’t even know if Vera had been laid to rest. She should have asked Donna when she’d found out the two women were related.
Meanwhile, Tricia tried not to let her thoughts wander back to Vera Olson’s death, the mess with Pets-A-Plenty, and her fractured relationship with Grace. It was a fact that fractures mended, and she felt sure that this hiccup in their relationship would soon pass.
By the time she finished her busywork, it was just about closing time and Tricia was only too happy to bid her employees good night and head to Angelica’s apartment for happy hour.
“See you on Monday,” Pixie called.
“And I’ll see you tomorrow at noon,” Mr. Everett said.
“Good night.”
Tricia grabbed the bag of cookbooks, turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and locked up. Never had she wanted a martini as badly as she did that evening.
As usual, Sarge was ecstatic to see his favorite auntie, and she tossed him two biscuits—enough to make him happy and not enough to get her in trouble with Angelica. She didn’t need any more strife.
A Killer Edition Page 17