Lorna Barrett - Murder On The Half Shelf

“That’ll be fine. Thank you,” Tricia said and hung up the phone.

Therefore, she was surprised when ten minutes later Grant Baker’s familiar SUV pulled up outside Haven’t Got a Clue.

“Will there ever be a day when you don’t find yourself mixed up in some kind of trouble?” Baker asked upon entering the store.

“Good morning to you, too. Isn’t a shop owner supposed to call the police when she’s been robbed?”

“Robbed of what?”

“Yesterday’s receipts.”

“And how much was that?”

“I’m not quite sure. Now that you mention it, I forgot to run the receipts from the register.”

Baker sighed. Heavily. “Do you keep calling the police just to see me?”

“My, don’t you have an inflated ego.”

“And just who robbed you?”

“My new hire. Her name is Linda Fugitt. At least that’s what she said her name was.”

“How long has she worked for you?”

Tricia felt a blush creep up her neck to stain her cheeks. “A day and a half.”

“And did she break in?”

“No. I…left her here in charge of the store.”

“You left a person you barely know in your store with an open register?”

“I thought Mr. Everett had had a heart attack. I couldn’t get hold of his wife. I had to go to the hospital until I was sure he was okay.”

“And you left this woman alone in the store?”

Tricia hung her head, feeling like a scolded child. “Yes.”

“Did she fill out any paperwork?”

“I tried the number she wrote on her application, but it’s been disconnected.”

Boy, did that sound bad.

“And you left a near-perfect stranger-with a bad phone number-alone in your store with an open register.”

“Will you stop saying that? At the time it seemed a perfectly sensible thing to do.”

Baker did not look convinced. “All right. I’ll write up a report and we’ll try to see if we can track this Fugitt woman down. If that’s her real name. Of course you realize the Stoneham police are very busy right now.”

“Yes. You’ve got a murder to solve. Quite frankly, I’m surprised the dispatcher sent you yet again.”

“I heard the address on the scanner and I-”

“Took it upon yourself to investigate? Are you sure you don’t keep showing up here just to see me?”

It was Baker’s turn to blush.

The door rattled and the little bell chimed as a breathless Linda burst into the store.

“Oh, Tricia, I’m so sorry I’m late, but my car wouldn’t start and my phone is out of order and I had to cancel my cell phone after my unemployment ran out and you can’t find a pay phone anywhere these days, and I figured you’d be worried since I didn’t know what to do with the money from the register, which I took home with me, and I knew you’d need change this morning and-” She finally ran out of breath as she opened her purse and took out the missing bank pouch. As she went to hand it to Tricia, she suddenly seemed to recognize that it was a uniformed policeman who stood in front of the register.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is everything okay? Did something else happen since I closed last night?”

“Um…no,” Tricia said. She indicated Baker. “The chief and I are friends. He just dropped by to say hello. Didn’t you, Grant?” she said, her eyes imploring him to agree.

“Yes. Hello, Tricia,” Baker said in a clipped tone. “Well, I guess I’d better be off.”

“So soon?” Linda asked, and unbuttoned her coat.

“I’ve got an investigation to get back to.” He nodded at Tricia. “I’ll be seeing you.” It almost sounded like a threat.

Tricia watched him go as Linda headed toward the back of the store to hang up her coat. The SUV was pulling away from the curb when Linda returned, tying on a Haven’t Got a Clue apron.

“How’s Mr. Everett?” she asked.

Tricia busied herself at the cash desk, neatening a stack of unruly bookmarks. “I haven’t heard from him or Grace yet today, but he was released from the hospital early this morning.”

“Oh, good. I’ve been so worried. He really is a dear sweet man.”

“Thank you for opening the mail yesterday…”

“You’re welcome.”

“-but I really do prefer to do it myself.”

Linda looked unsure of herself. “Oh. Okay. My secretary used to do that for me and it seemed one less burden I had to tackle on any given day.”

“I do wish you’d left a note saying you’d taken the bank pouch,” Tricia said, finding it hard to keep the strain from her voice.

“But I did. It’s right-”

She looked at the shelf behind the register where Miss Marple lay curled up in a ball. “Oh. It’s not there. I put a Post-it note on Miss Marple’s shelf, thinking you’d see it right away. It must have fallen down.”

Tricia cast about and saw a square sheet of yellow paper on the floor in the corner. She bent to pick it up. Sure enough in tight script it said: I wasn’t sure what to do with the money. I’ve taken the bank pouch home. Will try to get in early tomorrow. Linda.

Tricia’s heart sank. She looked up at Linda and opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words so she closed it again.

Understanding dawned. “Oh, Tricia, I hope you didn’t think-”

“I’m sorry, Linda. I didn’t know what to think.”

“That’s why the cop was here. To take your statement that you’d been robbed.”

Tricia wasn’t sure how to interpret Linda’s words-her tone was so neutral.

“It must have been awful for you to think your new employee was…” Linda stopped, as though unable to say the word.

“A thief? I’m the one who should feel bad. I didn’t trust you, and I apologize.”

Linda shook her head and waved a hand to dismiss the notion. “No. It’s perfectly understandable under the circumstances.” She looked up at Miss Marple, who was pretending to be asleep. Her eyes were shut, but her pricked ears betrayed that she’d been listening to the whole conversation. “You’re a naughty cat,” Linda scolded.

“ Brrrpt! ” Miss Marple replied, and still didn’t bother to open her eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Tricia said.

“Why don’t you say, ‘Linda, how would you like to learn to do inventory?’ I think that might be a good start. Mr. Everett was telling me how Ginny took care of that for you, and that you’ve had to do it all yourself since she’s been gone.”

Tricia managed a smile. “Thank you for-”

“Let’s not talk about it any more. But would you mind if we talked about inventory over a cup of coffee? After the morning I’ve put in, I’m pretty stressed. And I’ll bet you are, too. Here, let me get you a cup. You like it with just creamer, right?” And off she headed for the beverage station.

It was then that Tricia was sure she’d found a permanent replacement for Ginny.

Linda didlearn fast. She’d mentioned that Google and Wikipedia had become her new best friends and had spent the previous evening doing research on vintage mystery authors. She was helping a customer, and holding her own in a discussion of Agatha Christie versus Dorothy L. Sayers, when the phone rang. Tricia picked up the receiver.

“Haven’t Got a Clue. This is Tricia. How may I help you?”

“Ms. Miles?” It was Mr. Everett!

“Oh, Mr. Everett, I’m so pleased you called. How are you feeling?”

“Much better today. In fact, I’d like to come back to work this afternoon. If it’s all right with you, that is.”

“Oh, so soon? Shouldn’t you rest?”

“The doctors told me I had an anxiety attack-nothing more serious. I am back in the pink and eager to get back to work. Grace has already gone into the office for the day and I find it quite lonely being here by myself.”