A Fatal Chapter

by Lorna Barrett

  “Are they the same family that built the building where By Hook or By Book is housed?” Tricia asked.

  “The very same. They’re one of the oldest families still tied to the village.”

  Tricia looked back to the venerable old building before her. “Well, you’ve done a nice job updating the place.”

  “Thank you,” Angelica said with pleasure. “The occupancy rate is up over fifty percent since NRA took over the day-to-day control. It’s been a win-win situation for all involved.”

  She started off, and Tricia fell in step beside her as they approached the inn’s back entrance.

  “And none of the employees know?” Tricia whispered.

  “No. And that’s the way I want to keep it. It’s Antonio’s baby, and he’s done a fabulous job.” They climbed the steps and entered, walking down a well-lit corridor that led to the lobby. They paused at the reception desk, where the new night clerk, Missy Andrews, sat.

  “Good evening, Ms. Miles. How can I help you?”

  “Hello. Tricia and I are having dinner with Mr. Barbero and his wife in the private dining room.”

  “He just stepped out, but he said to expect you.”

  “Would it be all right if we went on ahead and waited for them?”

  “Yes, go right on in,” the pert blonde young woman said, smiling.

  “Thank you.”

  Angelica led the way down the hall.

  “Does this private dining room get much use?” Tricia asked.

  “Actually, yes. It used to be a storeroom, but when we put in the new HVAC system, we found we could use part of the basement instead. It’s worked out well.” The door was ajar, and Angelica strode through it with Tricia following.

  The décor was what Tricia expected: elegant yet understated. The only bling evident were the crystal sconces on the walls around a gas fireplace. The furniture was colonial, and the floor was dark hardwood with a large antique Oriental area rug. A table with crisp white linens and set for four sat in front of a window with sumptuous drapes that overlooked the inn’s side garden. Closer to the door was a seating area that could comfortably accommodate six. Tricia sank into one of the upholstered chairs to wait.

  Angelica hadn’t seemed agitated until they’d entered the pretty private dining room and she’d begun to pace its confines. “You know, I’m much more nervous about how Ginny is going to react to the news about Nigela Ricita than I was about you finding out.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because she and I originally got off to such a rocky start when I first came to Stoneham. It’s taken time to get her on my side. I don’t want to lose that.”

  Tricia shook her head and continued to study the room, which was a delight. The walls were covered in a subtle rose-patterned wallpaper with a beige background, and original oil paintings of stately homes adorned each wall.

  “Did you decorate this room, too?” Tricia asked.

  “Of course. I did the refresh of the lobby and the guest rooms, too. It’s amazing what you can order online these days.”

  Again Tricia shook her head, but this time in . . . wonder? Consternation? She wasn’t sure which. “Will you please sit down?” she implored.

  “My nerves are so jangled. I’m not sure how I can explain it to Ginny. She’s going to hate me, I’m sure of it. I mean, doesn’t everybody hate their mother-in-law?”

  “She’s not going to be happy, but I think hate is much too strong a word to describe her feelings.”

  “You are so optimistic,” Angelica said, her face taut with worry.

  The door handle rattled and Angelica jumped back, startled. The door opened, and Antonio ushered his very pregnant wife inside. “Ah, you’re already here,” he said.

  “Oh,” Ginny said, sounding surprised at seeing the sisters. “When Antonio said we were coming to the inn for dinner, I never expected to see you two.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Tricia said.

  “Oh, no, it’s not that,” Ginny hastily explained, but she didn’t go on. The three women looked at one another, all of them forcing smiles. “So, what’s the occasion?” Ginny finally asked.

  Tricia looked askance at her sister, who stood there with her mouth open but seemed unable to speak. “Why don’t we sit down and have a drink before dinner?” she finally blurted out.

  “Unfortunately, I’m only drinking sparkling water these days, but feel free to go ahead,” Ginny said.

  “Here,” Angelica suggested, gesturing toward the most comfortable chair.

  Ginny shook her head. “I might not be able to get up from there.” She allowed Antonio to settle her at one of the chairs at the table. He then turned and pressed a button on the wall, which Tricia presumed would summon a waiter. She and Angelica seated themselves at the table, as well.

  “How are things going?” Tricia asked, hoping her voice sounded normal, while Angelica continued to wring her hands.

  “I can’t wait to drop this kid,” Ginny said, and exhaled a long breath. “I want my center of gravity back. I want my body and my life back.”

  “Ginny has had a long day,” Antonio explained, looking sheepish.

  “If you don’t want to stay for dinner . . .” Tricia began.

  “Oh, no!” Ginny said. “I’m here and I’m not about to give up a gourmet meal. If we were at home, we’d be having a bowl of soup and a sandwich or takeout.”

  They heard a knock at the door, and a white-coated waiter appeared. “Hello, I’m James and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Can I get anyone a drink?”

  “A dry gin martini with olives,” Angelica said, sounding desperate.

  “I’d like a Chardonnay,” Tricia said.

  “Campari on ice, and a bottle of Pellegrino con gas for my beautiful wife,” Antonio said.

  “Very good, sir. I’ll be right back with your drinks and a selection of appetizers.”

  “Thank you, James,” Antonio said.

  The waiter gave a slight bow and retreated from the room. After he was gone, the four of them looked expectantly at one another.

  “It’s rather a surprise to see the two of you here,” Ginny said again, taking in the sisters.

  Angelica forced a laugh. “Well, we thought you could probably use a break from cooking.”

  “That’s the truth. I don’t think either of us has had a decent meal—unless we’ve eaten here—in the last month,” Ginny said. “And I have a feeling we’ll be eating yet more takeout for at least a week or two after the baby comes.”

  Angelica nodded vigorously, reminding Tricia of a bobblehead doll.

  Nobody said anything for a long awkward minute or so, their gazes dipping to the floor and various corners of the room. Finally, Tricia was about to take the initiative and introduce the subject of why they had gathered, when Ginny spoke. “Antonio mentioned we’d be eating here in the private dining room, so I kind of assumed we were going to have one last romantic evening before the baby arrives. I have a feeling it could be years before that will ever happen again.”

  “Maybe not,” Angelica said. “What you need is a willing babysitter. Someone who loves you and is willing to watch over your little boy or girl as if it were her very own.”

  “Have you got someone in mind?” Ginny said, and laughed.

  Angelica forced yet another smile. “Well, yes. Me.”

  Ginny’s smile faded. “And why would you want to do that?”

  “Because . . . because . . . Because I’m your baby’s nonna.”

  “Nonna? That’s Italian for grandmother,” Ginny said, her eyes practically pinning Angelica to the wall.

  Again, Angelica laughed. “Yes, I guess it is. You see, I’m—I’m—”

  “Nigela Ricita,” Ginny said without batting an eye.

  Angelica swallowed, ob
viously taken aback. “Well, yes. I am.”

  Ginny waved a bored hand and reached for her water glass. “I’ve known that for months.”

  “You—you have?” Angelica practically squeaked.

  Tricia frowned. “Has everyone but me known this not-so-secret secret forever?”

  “Not forever,” Ginny said, “but I was doing the Jumble puzzle one day and somehow the words Nigela Ricita popped into my mind and just unscrambled themselves.”

  “Me, too,” Tricia said.

  “You never said anything,” Antonio said.

  Ginny shrugged. “I assumed you were sworn to secrecy. And I know,” she said, turning her gaze on Angelica, “that people don’t cross Nigela Ricita.”

  Angelica’s lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. Suddenly Tricia felt terribly protective of her older sister. “She didn’t mean any harm, Ginny. Everything she’s done has been for the good of the village and its people.”

  Ginny’s gaze softened. “And us.” She reached across the table, offering her hand to Angelica. “Thank you for taking care of Antonio all these years. You were only his stepmother. Most women wouldn’t have done what you did for him, especially after your marriage to his father broke up.”

  “Well, just like you, I fell in love with him, and I’m very pleased to still be a part of his life.”

  “A big part,” Antonio said, with a wave to take in the inn at large.

  Angelica squeezed Ginny’s hand. “Well, will you take me up on my offer?”

  “To babysit? Have you ever taken care of a baby before?”

  “I have a dog.”

  “It’s not quite the same.”

  “I suspect at this very moment that you and I have the exact same amount of experience when it comes to child care.”

  Ginny’s lips quirked into a smile. “I’ll bet you’re right.”

  “Then perhaps we can learn together.”

  “I’m game,” Ginny said, her grin broadening.

  The waiter interrupted what could have become a love fest by arriving with a cart that not only held the drinks, but the promised appetizers, as well. He served them, pouring Ginny’s sparking water. He handed menus all around. “Just press the button on the wall when you’re ready to order,” he said, and retreated, closing the door behind him.

  Antonio picked up his glass. “To family.”

  “To family,” the women chorused, and they all clinked glasses and drank.

  Ginny set her glass down first. “I’ve been dying to talk to my boss about new opportunities within the NRA organization. Do you think she’d be interested?” she asked Angelica.

  “I think she’d love it!”

  FOURTEEN

  “I’m so happy, I think I might explode!” Angelica gushed as she started her car and put it in gear.

  “Calm down, girl,” Tricia said, and laughed. It was well past eleven. The dinner—and the ensuing conversation—had gone on much longer than Tricia would have expected, considering how close Ginny was to delivering her baby. But everyone had been in such high spirits, no one had wanted the evening to end.

  “I was so worried Ginny wouldn’t accept me as her mother-in-law, and yet now I feel like we’re really a family.” Angelica looked both ways before pulling out of the Brookview Inn’s parking lot, heading east. Antonio’s car had already disappeared from view.

  “Ginny seemed pleased, especially when you answered her question about her taking on more responsibility—and the possibility of opening a new day care center.”

  “A good employer makes sure her people are happy. If we were a bigger company, I’d have on-site day care.”

  “How big do you expect NRA to get?” Tricia asked. Did she have a megalomaniac for a sister?

  Angelica shrugged. “That depends on Antonio and the next generation of Barberos.”

  “Do you want to make NRA a dynasty?”

  “Why not?” Angelica said, and laughed.

  “I hate to shatter your good mood, but we’ve still got to put silk flowers in the rest of the hanging baskets.”

  “Even that boring task couldn’t upset me,” Angelica declared, and she turned left onto Main Street.

  Every other business except the Dog-Eared Page had long since shuttered its doors for the day. The pub’s windows positively glowed, and Angelica slowed the car, hitting the power button on the driver’s window. They could hear music and laughter. “I knew opening that pub would be good for the village,” she said.

  They rolled on past, and a few seconds later she turned right into the municipal parking lot. Angelica parked and they got out of the car. “We’ll change clothes and then get straight to work.”

  But as they walked toward Main Street, Tricia looked toward the gas lamp nearest the entrance and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh, no,” she cried.

  “What?” Angelica asked.

  “Look!” Tricia pointed to the hanging basket. When they’d left for the Brookview Inn, it was resplendent with silk blooms; now only the live greenery remained.

  Angelica let out a breath that sounded like a sob. “No!”

  Tricia snagged Angelica’s arm, pulling her up the street. Every basket they’d worked on the night before had been denuded.

  “How could someone have done this? Why didn’t anyone see it happen?” Angelica cried.

  “It’s too late to call the police,” Tricia said.

  “Grant didn’t take me seriously when I reported the vandalism in the first place—he’s not going to care about the theft of the silk flowers, either.” Angelica’s voice broke on the last word, and tears filled her eyes.

  “There must be something we can do,” Tricia said, looking up and down the empty street. Up ahead and across the street, she noticed a light glowing at the Stoneham Weekly News. “Look, Russ must be working late. Let’s talk to him. Maybe he can put something in the paper about it.”

  “I’ll put a bounty on the head of whoever is responsible,” Angelica threatened, and stalked off in the direction of the weekly newspaper. Tricia had to hurry to catch up.

  Angelica banged on the big glass door. “Russ! Russ Smith! If you’re in there, open the door.”

  It took a few moments, but finally Russ stuck his head out of his office door.

  “Russ!” Tricia called.

  He hurried for the door and quickly unlocked it. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s the flowers! They’re gone!” Angelica cried.

  “Calm down—calm down. Come on in and sit down and tell me what on earth is going on.”

  Angelica was so upset that her explanation made no sense, so Tricia took over.

  Finally Russ waved his hands to end the tirade. “Okay, I got it, I got it. But it’s too late to put an item in the paper. It’s already gone to bed for the week.”

  “Oh, no!” Angelica wailed.

  “Now, now—don’t panic. I’ve got another idea,” Russ said. “You say you’ve still got fake flowers you can put in some of the baskets?”

  Tricia nodded.

  “We can capture the guy on video.”

  “How?” Angelica demanded.

  “Boris and Alexa Kozlov over at the Coffee Bean bought a camera when someone was filling their Dumpsters with trash. I’ll bet if you asked Alexa, she’d be fine with loaning it to you.”

  “She loves the flowers—she’s told me that many times,” Angelica agreed.

  “Maybe she could even get Boris to set it up for you.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Tricia said.

  “I’ll go over to the Coffee Bean the second they open in the morning and ask,” Angelica said.

  “But first we’ve got to beautify all those pots of greenery,” Tricia said, starting to feel weary. Like Angelica, her good mood had evaporated when they’d found the flowe
rs missing once more.

  “There’s no point in replacing the flowers until we get that camera installed,” Angelica said, and stood.

  Tricia and Russ stood as well. “I agree,” Tricia said. She looked at Russ for a long moment. “By the way, what are you doing here at the office so late at night when your wife is about to give birth?”

  Russ shook his head. “Nikki’s not due for at least another week. I waited for her to fall asleep before coming here. If she wakes up, she knows where I am. I can be home in two minutes.”

  Tricia frowned. Two minutes could be a long time if you needed to get to the hospital fast. But that was Russ and Nikki’s decision, and she wasn’t about to voice her opinion on the subject.

  Angelica reached the door and turned. “Thank you, Russ. I was so distraught, I don’t think I’d have ever remembered the Koslov’s had that surveillance camera. But even if they didn’t, I’d pay big-time to get one put up so we could catch the vandal who’s ruining our flowers.”

  “Keep me posted. It might make a fun story for next week’s issue,” he said before closing and locking the door behind them.

  The sisters stood on the sidewalk outside the office. “I’m glad you saw Russ’s light on. Maybe by tomorrow we’ll have this mess with the flowers cleared up.”

  “You mean two days from now,” Tricia complained, and shook her head.

  “At least we’ll get to bed at a halfway decent hour tonight,” Angelica said. “For now, I’m going to put it out of my head and fall asleep and dream about my new grandchild.”

  “You. A grandma. And you look spectacular,” Tricia teased.

  “Don’t I just?” They laughed. It felt good. “Okay, it’s time for us to go our separate ways. I’ll see you in the morning.” Angelica gave Tricia a hug and they split up, with Tricia heading north for the Chamber and Angelica south for the Cookery. Tricia’s footfalls echoed—something she never heard during daylight hours. Main Street was well lit, and she often walked home alone at night from the Dog-Eared Page without fear. But the hairs on the back of her neck prickled as though someone were watching her. She quickened her pace.