Lorna Barrett - Sentenced to Death

“The last few days have been a nightmare. I saw Bob Kelly this morning about putting my house up for sale. After what happened the other night, I don’t feel safe here in Stoneham anymore.”

“Then you don’t think it was an accident?” Tricia asked.

“I most certainly do not. That car came straight at me and Davey.”

“But why?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Who knows why crazy people do what they do.”

Crazy people. Like Cheryl Griffin? “So you didn’t see who was behind the wheel?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“What were you doing walking down Main Street at that time of day, anyway?”

“I’ve been going back to the village park. I feel close to Deborah in the place where she died. Or at least I wanted to believe I would feel close to her. But she’s not there. And for all I know, David dumped her remains in his garbage can. I must admit, I’ve thought about looking there. But their trash day was yesterday. If he disposed of her ashes that way, there’s no way I’ll ever find my baby’s final resting place.” A single tear cascaded down her cheek. She brushed it aside.

Davey pounded a picture of a Dalmatian with his chubby index finger. “Doggy, doggy!” he insisted.

“These past few days you’ve seen the worst of me,” Elizabeth continued, “and learned the worst of Deborah. I’m her mother. I know she was no saint, but she was my daughter and I loved her unconditionally. Isn’t that what a parent is supposed to do?”

“I always thought so,” Tricia said quietly. She didn’t want to think too hard on that statement. It was too painful a place for her to go.

Another tear leaked from Elizabeth’s eye and she dabbed at it with the knuckles of her right hand. Tricia reached under the counter and brought out the tissue box, which seemed to be getting quite a workout this week.

Elizabeth took one and blew her nose.

“Where will you go?” Tricia asked.

“Back to Long Island. I have friends there, and my other girls aren’t far away. Somehow Davey and I will build a new life.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “We’ve got no other choice.”

“Nana, Nana! Doggy,” Davey insisted with the joy that only a small child can experience.

There didn’t seem to be much else to say, so Tricia began with, “Good luck. If there’s anything else I can do for you before you go, please let me know.”

“I’ve already abused the friendship you had with Deborah.” She took a deep breath and looked toward the door. “I’d best be going. I’m heading to the liquor store in Milford to see if I can scrounge up some boxes. I may as well start packing today.” She grabbed the handles of the stroller and headed for the exit. She opened the door. “Wave good-bye to Tricia, Davey.”

Davey looked up from his book, raised his hand, and opened and closed it several times. “Bye-bye.”

Tricia waved back. “Good-bye, Davey.”

Elizabeth gave Tricia a parting smile and left the store.

Miss Marple appeared at Tricia’s elbow, giving her a loving head butt. “That was unexpected.”

Miss Marple said, “Yow!”

The bell tinkled again as the shop door opened, but instead of a customer it was Angelica.

“Good morning, good morning!” she chimed, sporting a jubilant grin. As usual, she was dressed in her waitress uniform, but she carried two cups from the Coffee Bean. Unfortunately, Tricia was feeling coffeed out.

“You seem unusually happy,” she said.

“I’m celebrating this morning. I’ve just come from the post office where I sent off my manuscript to my editor.”

“I thought you still had a few weeks.”

“When you’ve accomplished perfection, there’s no reason to hang on to it a second longer.”

“Perfection?” Tricia asked skeptically, accepting her cup.

“Of course, darling.”

“Post office? I thought most authors turned in their manuscripts electronically these days.”

“My contract says hard copy, and you know what a stickler I am for following the rules.”

Tricia laughed, glad she hadn’t had a mouthful of coffee when she heard that one. Snorting coffee was not a pleasant experience.

“Well, you’re not the only one with good news. Someone’s already claimed Elaine Capshaw’s dog,” Tricia said.

“Claimed him? I thought you were responsible for him.” Angelica said.

“So did I. But when I called to check up on him this morning, they said he’d been claimed. Probably by a neighbor. I never even got to ask Mr. Everett if he wanted a little doggy friend.”

Angelica shrugged. “It’s probably for the best.”

Tricia nodded. “More news. Elizabeth is leaving town and taking Davey with her.”

“I thought I saw her leaving your store. Well, you won’t see me shed a tear.”

“She came here to apologize.”

“It would have been nice if she’d apologized to Ginny and me, too,” Angelica said in a huff.

“It was a blanket apology I’m supposed to pass on,” Tricia fibbed.

“Oh, well, then all is forgiven. Did she have any idea who tried to run her down on Tuesday night?”

“No.”

“It was probably just an accident,” Angelica said, and sipped her coffee. She glanced up at the clock, and nearly choked. “Is that the time? Good grief. The lunch crowd will be over at Booked for Lunch any moment now.”

“What crowd? It’s been dead around here, thanks to the Founders’ Day celebration being canceled.”

“I know. You’d think we would’ve had at least the usual amount of tourists. It’s like some kind of retail curse has been put on the entire village. But it can’t last for long,” she said, regaining her cheer. “Now don’t forget, we’re meeting Michele Fowler for drinks later.”

“It looks like it’ll be the highlight of my day,” Tricia said.

“Now, now,” Angelica admonished. “Let’s not be bitter.”

Tricia sighed. “I’ll try.”

Angelica turned for the door. “See you,” she called, and as she left the store, Grace Harris-Everett entered. So far, not one paying customer had entered Haven’t Got a Clue that day.

Still, the sight of Grace brought a smile to Tricia’s lips. She’d lost her grandmother too many years ago, but she counted her friendship with Grace as in the same league, and hoped Grace somehow did the same.

“Hello, Tricia,” Grace said. “And hello to you, too, Miss Marple.”

Miss Marple jumped down from her perch behind the register to accept Grace’s attention. She purred effusively and head-butted Grace’s chin with almost wild abandon.

“My, my,” Grace said, enjoying the feline attention. “I can see I must come and visit more often.”

“What brings you here today?” Tricia asked.

“William tells me you’ve held the fort for two days now. It must be terribly lonely for you—both of you.”

“I’m afraid he’s right. I miss both him and Ginny terribly. I thought I’d found a wonderful replacement in Elaine Capshaw. . . .”

“Yes,” Grace said, turning somber. “I’ve heard. But soon William will be back to Haven’t Got a Clue. He does love working here, you know. Although no one has hounded him for his lottery winnings since he’s been at the Happy Domestic.” She leaned forward and whispered, “He thinks it’s due to his new moustache.”

Tricia tried to stifle a smile, with poor results. “I love having him work here,” she said. “But you still haven’t told me what brought you in today.”

“I understand you’ve been collecting money for Deborah’s son’s education fund. The Everett Charitable Foundation fund would like to make a contribution.” She dipped into her purse and withdrew a check.

“Thank you, Grace. That’s very sweet of you both.”