A Fatal Chapter

by Lorna Barrett

  Tricia took her usual seat at the counter and waited for her customary tuna plate to materialize. After about a minute and no attention from Angelica, she got up and poured herself a cup of coffee, nudged past Angelica, and got her own lunch. She’d already sat down and removed the plastic wrap before Angelica seemed to realize she was even there.

  “Oh. When did you get here?”

  “About five minutes ago. What’s got you so preoccupied?”

  “I’m trying to decide if I should change my standing bread order. But it doesn’t matter right this minute. Can I get you—oh, you already have coffee. Well, I think I’ll join you.” She grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured herself one.

  “I came by early to share my good news.” Tricia laughed. “Actually several pieces of good news.”

  The bell over the door jangled, and Tricia turned to see Christopher enter.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” he called as she crossed the floor to join Tricia at the counter.

  Tricia sighed. Was he ever going to stop bothering her? “Hello.”

  “Have you got anything good left to eat?” he asked Angelica.

  “The grill is closed, but we’ve still got the soup-and-sandwich special: potato and leek, and egg salad.”

  “Sounds great. On rye?” he asked.

  “Coming right up,” Angelica said, put down her cup, and headed for the kitchen.

  So much for Tricia’s good news. She took a bite of tuna.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Christopher said, and smiled.

  “I come here almost every day.”

  “Yes, but today you’re early.”

  Did he keep an eye out for her twenty-four/seven?

  Angelica returned with a cup of soup, a spoon, and a couple of packets of crackers, setting them in front of Christopher. “Your sandwich will be ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  Angelica turned to Tricia. “Now, what were you saying about good news?”

  “I heard from the insurance company. The check is being cut, and I can start repairing my store.”

  Angelica beamed. “That is good news. Congratulations.”

  “Congratulations, Trish. It’ll be good to have you living closer—in case you ever need me,” Christopher said.

  Tricia said nothing and turned back to her sister. “The other good piece of news is that I found your petal pincher.”

  Angelica’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but she quickly recovered, and again beamed. “Who? Who is it?”

  Tricia looked right and left before beckoning Angelica closer. “Earl Winkler,” she whispered.

  Again Angelica’s mouth dropped, but this time she didn’t smile. “Why, that dirty rat!”

  “Funny it should be the rat catcher,” Tricia agreed, and used her fork to rearrange the lettuce on her plate. “I’ll tell you the whole story when there isn’t a crowd listening in,” she said with a quick glance at her ex-husband, “but suffice to say, rather than face the humiliation of public knowledge of his indiscretion, he’s willing to apologize and help restore the silk flowers.”

  “Big of him,” Angelica said tartly.

  “Since the plants themselves weren’t destroyed, that’s about the best you’re going to get.”

  Angelica scowled. “I’ll accept his apology, but that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy on him.”

  Tricia didn’t envy the time Earl would have to spend with Angelica to get the job done.

  A bell sounded from the kitchen. “That’s your sandwich, Christopher. I’ll be right back with it.” Angelica headed for the kitchen.

  Tricia turned her attention back to her lunch.

  The door to the street opened, the little bell jangling as Bob Kelly burst in. His face was flushed, and his eyes were red-rimmed. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He took in the rest of the customers before he reached for the OPEN sign and turned it to CLOSED, then stamped across the tile floor to stand behind Tricia.

  “You had to go nosing around, didn’t you?”

  Tricia’s stomach tightened as she swiveled her stool to face him. “Are you speaking to me?”

  “Who else?” Bob demanded.

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

  “I saw you leave the pub earlier with a big brown envelope. What was inside it?”

  Tricia’s heart skipped a beat. Two people were now watching her every move. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I saw you go to NRA Realty,” Bob continued.

  Oh, no.

  “You know about the cemetery.”

  Tricia swallowed but said nothing.

  “If anyone else finds out, the sale won’t go through.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Christopher asked.

  Tricia ignored his question and spoke to Bob. “Did you also watch me go to the police station?”

  Bob nodded, his expression grave. He unbuttoned his green sports jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed revolver from the waistband of his pants.

  “Bob!” Tricia squealed.

  “Hey,” Christopher protested.

  “Get up!” Bob ordered Tricia, waving the gun.

  “Bob, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” came Angelica’s voice as she pushed through the swinging door from the kitchen, holding the plate with Christopher’s sandwich.

  “Oh my God,” Ginny called, sounding frightened.

  “Everybody, on your feet,” Bob ordered, again waving the gun around for emphasis.

  “What are you going to do? Rob the place?” Christopher asked as he rose from his stool, his hands raised.

  “Take whatever you want from the till and go,” Angelica said.

  Bob shook his head, his smile wolfish. “Oh, no. That would be too easy.”

  “Well, what do you want?” Angelica demanded.

  “You. I want you.”

  “Don’t you mean me?” Tricia said. “After all, it’s me you want to buy your building.”

  Bob shook his head. “It’s too late for that now.”

  “Be reasonable, Bob,” Russ said as he stood protectively in front of Nikki. Thanks to her burgeoning belly, it was going to take some time to extricate her from the tight booth, and it didn’t look like Russ had any intention of doing that.

  “I’ll go along with whatever you say, Bob, just leave everyone else alone,” Tricia said, hoping to spare her friends, but Bob shook his head.

  “Oh, no. I’m not leaving any witnesses.”

  Tricia’s mouth went dry. She took a breath. “You haven’t got enough bullets in that gun to take us all out.”

  “Oh, yeah? How would you know?”

  “Because I read mysteries, and I know a gun like that only holds six bullets,” Tricia said. And she hoped to heaven he was bluffing about it even being loaded.

  “I only see six people,” Bob said, his voice level.

  Stay in the kitchen, Pixie, Tricia thought.

  Bob motioned for Angelica to step forward, but before she could, Christopher lunged in front of her and the gun exploded.

  Christopher shoved Bob backward, and Ginny cracked him over the head with one of the café’s heavy china plates, the remnants of her lunch flying into the air. Bob fell and the gun exploded again.

  Tricia jumped forward as the two men hit the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

  “Christopher!” she hollered, but instead of going to him, she saw that, although Bob was groggy, he still held the gun in his hand. She kicked it several times until he let go, and it skittered across the tile. Bob groaned, but Christopher hadn’t moved.

  Suddenly, the room seemed to be teeming with people. Angelica and Russ hauled Christopher’s dead weight off Bob. They rolled him over onto his back, and his chest, awash in scarlet, heav
ed as he tried to catch his breath. Russ turned his attention to Bob as Ginny did a fast waddle around them heading for the lunch counter, while in the background Tricia could hear Nikki shouting into her cell phone.

  “Christopher!” Tricia practically screamed as she fell on her knees beside him, grabbing his left hand in her own.

  Angelica was on her feet again, helping Russ shove a dazed Bob onto the seat Ginny had vacated only seconds before. “Sit on him. Don’t let him up!” Russ ordered, and Angelica practically jumped onto Bob’s back. Russ handed her the plate that Ginny had hit Bob with. “Use this again if you have to.”

  She nodded, looking pale and scared.

  Tricia turned her attention back to Christopher. His eyes fluttered open and he grimaced in pain. “Don’t move,” she told him, feeling more frightened than when she’d faced the fire in her shop and had desperately tried to save Miss Marple.

  “Nobody . . . nobody ever warned me how much . . . how much it hurts to get shot.”

  “Don’t talk,” Tricia said, and placed the index finger of her free hand across his dry lips.

  Russ took the wad of clean dishrags Ginny handed him and pressed them against the seeping wound on Christopher’s chest. “Did anyone see what happened to Pixie?”

  “She went out the back to get help,” Angelica said.

  Christopher’s hand tightened around Tricia’s, and he stared into her eyes. She had always loved his mesmerizing green eyes. “I want you to promise me something,” he said, his speech breathy.

  “Anything, anything at all,” Tricia said.

  “That after this is all over you’ll marry me again.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Tricia said, hoping with all her heart that she was right.

  “I know it . . . that’s why I want you to promise me. If you do, then I know I’ll be okay, because I already told you . . . we are destined to be together for all time.”

  Tricia shot a look over her shoulder at Angelica, who was nodding vigorously. She looked back down at Christopher, who was deathly pale.

  “Y-yes. Of course, anything you say.” The wad of dishrags beneath Russ’s fingers was sodden.

  Christopher closed his eyes and a faint smile crossed his lips. “Good . . . good. You can . . . go back . . . to . . . wearing . . . your . . . engagement . . . ring.”

  Tricia looked down at their clasped hands. Christopher was wearing his wedding band once again.

  “Oh my God,” Ginny cried, “my water just broke.” She stumbled backward and sat down on one of the stools.

  Nikki was still on the phone but no longer shouting. “Yes, he’s subdued. Please, please hurry!”

  The café door burst open, and two of Stoneham’s finest darted inside, their service revolvers drawn. “Nobody move!” Hanson shouted.

  “Put those things away,” Angelica ordered. “I’m sitting on the jerk you want.” She struggled to her feet. “Get him out of here!”

  They hauled a dazed Bob out of the booth and hustled him out the door. Chief Baker suddenly appeared.

  “Get the paramedics,” Tricia implored, and Baker pivoted, talking into the microphone attached to his uniform blouse.

  “Tricia, he’s not breathing,” Russ said gently.

  “We’ve got to do CPR,” Tricia cried.

  “Tricia, he’s gone,” Russ said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  Tricia started down at Christopher, choking back a sob.

  Suddenly Angelica was there at Tricia’s side. “You can let go now,” she said gently.

  Tricia stared at her, not comprehending.

  Angelica stared down at Tricia’s hands tightly clasping Christopher’s. Tricia’s gaze followed. Wonderful memories from years gone by suddenly bubbled up. Their first date. The first time they made love. Their wedding day. At that moment, she couldn’t even remember why they had ever parted. All she remembered was the love.

  Angelica placed a hand on Tricia’s. “Let go,” she said again.

  Silent tears trickled down Tricia’s cheeks, but she allowed Angelica to disentangle her fingers from Christopher’s and pull her onto her feet.

  “Ginny, will you be okay for a few minutes?” Angelica asked, her voice calm.

  Ginny nodded, wiping tears that cascaded down her cheeks.

  Angelica turned back to Tricia, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and led her toward the door. Outside, the sidewalk was filled with people. Tricia kept her head down as Angelica pushed their way through the crowd and past the police.

  “Not now,” Angelica said fiercely when Baker appeared in front of them.

  He stepped back.

  Tricia heard sirens in the background but didn’t look up, just watched her feet as they crossed the street and approached the Cookery. Angelica opened the door.

  “Angelica—Tricia!” Frannie cried. “What on earth is going on over at Booked for Lunch?”

  “We’ll talk later,” Angelica said. How could she be so damned calm when the world had just turned upside down?

  Angelica led Tricia across the store to the door at the back marked PRIVATE.

  She closed it behind them.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  After the events of the previous day, St. Joseph hospital was the last place Tricia wanted to be, but despite the tragedy she’d experienced, life went on. One life had ended, and another had begun.

  A pasty-faced Ginny sat propped up in her hospital bed, draped in one of those hideous blue hospital gowns, but thanks to her radiant smile, she had never looked more beautiful. Beside her, Antonio beamed like the proud poppa he was.

  “So,” Tricia asked, still finding it difficult to speak after she’d spent so much of the day before crying, “what are you going to name her?”

  “After my mother,” Antonio said in his lilting Italian accent.

  “Sofia? That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” Tricia said.

  “That’s not all,” Angelica said from the end of the bed.

  “Sofia Angelica,” Antonio clarified.

  “Isn’t she the most gorgeous baby you’ve ever seen in your entire life?” Angelica said, nearly bursting with pride.

  She was indeed a beautiful little girl, with a full head of red hair, just like her mother.

  “Thank you for all the flowers, Angelica,” Ginny said, “but you didn’t have to send quite so many.” On every flat surface stood a vase or a pot filled with colorful blooms, some of them emblazoned with pink ribbons saying Baby Girl.

  “Well, I didn’t know what your favorites were, so I just told the florist to send one of everything.”

  “Perhaps we can share some with the other patients,” Antonio suggested.

  “Of course, of course,” Angelica agreed, and laughed. It seemed that nothing could upset her on that beautiful, sunny, late-summer morning. Tricia only hoped she’d tone down her excitement later that afternoon when they went to the Baker Funeral Home to make Christopher’s final arrangements. As he had no close family, Tricia had decided she’d like to have him buried nearby, where she could lay flowers on his grave. Perhaps it would make her feel better. Perhaps.

  She looked down at her hand and the two-carat solitaire diamond ring that once again had taken up residence on her left ring finger. She hadn’t been sure she meant what she’d told Christopher in his last moments. Would she really have married him again? But for now, she would honor his last request and wear the ring he had given her so many years ago at a much happier time in their lives. Their wedding had been lavish—ostentatious, really—and Tricia had already made up her mind that the last ceremony she shared with Christopher would be far more simple and dignified.

  She found her eyes welling with tears once again and tried to blink them away.

  A clatter at the door caught their attention. “Hi,” Nikki called out. She s
at in a wheelchair, with Russ manning the grips behind her.

  “Don’t tell me you’re here to deliver, too!” Ginny cried, grinning.

  “We were just about to check in, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day, and I thought we should pop up here to see you first.”

  “Pardon me if I don’t get up,” Ginny said, and laughed.

  “Can I show her the baby?” Angelica asked. She’d only held little Sofia four times since they’d arrived less than an hour earlier.

  “Of course,” Ginny said, and carefully handed the baby over. Angelica cradled Sofia as if she were a soap bubble as she stepped over to the door. Nikki looked down at the sleeping princess and smiled.

  “Aw, I can’t wait to hold my little bundle of joy.” Then her face collapsed into a grimace, and she bent over as a contraction seized her.

  “Speaking of which,” Russ said. “We’d better get going. Congratulations, Antonio.” He looked at Ginny. “You did great, Mama.”

  “Thank you. Good luck, Nikki. You’ve got a tough day ahead of you, but it’ll all be worthwhile,” Ginny said as Angelica handed the baby back to her.

  Russ gave them a wave as he pushed the wheelchair away from the door.

  “Nikki’s having a boy,” Angelica said. “Wouldn’t it be fun if Sofia and he got married one day?”

  Tricia winced at the mention of a wedding, and Angelica instantly seemed to realize her faux pas. “Oh, Trish, honey, I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “It’s okay.”

  “Would you have remarried Christopher?” Ginny asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tricia said truthfully. “I’ll never know.”

  “What will happen to Bob Kelly?” Antonio asked.

  “I hope they throw him in jail for the rest of his worthless life,” Angelica said bitterly. “And to think I once loved that despicable man.”

  “He’s certainly got a lot to answer for,” Tricia said. “Two murder charges, attempted murder, and assault, not to mention the trouble he was in before all this happened.”

  “And don’t forget desecration of a cemetery,” Angelica said.

  Tricia nodded, appalled that anyone would have the temerity to disturb the dead for their own selfish gain.