Lorna Barrett - Chapter & Hearse

“Grace, what brings you here this evening?”

“William’s car is in the shop. I’m here to give him a ride—and perhaps convince him to take me to dinner in Nashua.”

“Sounds like a date to me.”

Grace actually giggled. “Marrying William has given me such joy. I do wish we’d done it sooner. You should try it.”

“I still might—but right now there are no likely candidates.”

Grace’s smile faded. “I was so sorry when you and Russ Smith broke up. Do you think there’s a chance you might get back together? I know he hasn’t given up hope.”

Had Russ been confiding in Grace? “I’m afraid not.” Not when she still thought about Grant Baker on a regular basis. Not that she was pining for Baker, either.

It was time to change the subject. “Grace, do you know Jim Roth’s mother?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t. She and Jim only moved to Stoneham about five years ago, when he opened the store.”

Tricia frowned. For some reason, she had the impression—especially after seeing the inside of the Roth home and the wonderful garden—that they had been citizens of Stoneham for a lot longer.

“Mrs. Roth told me she couldn’t afford a funeral for Jim. Frannie’s planning a memorial service. Apparently Mrs. Roth depended on Jim’s income. I wonder if the other booksellers would contribute to a fund for her.”

“I didn’t know Jim well, but I’d be willing to contribute.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Grace opened her purse and took out her checkbook. Using the display case as a desk, she wrote out a check and handed it to Tricia. “I’ve left the pay-to portion blank in case you want to cash it and give Mrs. Roth the donations in a lump sum.”

Tricia looked at the check, and her mouth dropped. One thousand dollars. “Oh, Grace, that’s extremely generous of you.”

Grace shrugged. “My first husband left me well off. I have no one to leave it to. If it can help Jim’s mother, I’m happy to give it.”

On impulse, Tricia gathered Grace into a careful hug. “I’m so glad you’re my friend.”

Grace patted Tricia’s back and chuckled. After a few moments, Grace pulled back, craned her neck, and looked for her beloved. “Where is William?”

“He went up to the storeroom to look for a copy of The Zero Clue by Rex Stout.”

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites.”

“We got a request for it on our Website. He should be down any moment.”

As if on cue, the door to the stairway at the back of the store, marked PRIVATE, opened and both Mr. Everett and Ginny appeared. “Grace, my dear. Is it time to go already?”

“I’m a few minutes early,” Grace admitted, standing on tiptoe to give Mr. Everett a demure peck on the cheek. He blushed as he handed Tricia the book.

“Why don’t you two run along?” Tricia said. “Ginny and I can close up.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to either of you,” Mr. Everett said.

“It’s not like we’ve got anyone waiting for us at home,” Ginny said, rubbing salt into Tricia’s figurative wound.

Grace smiled, and tweaked her husband’s collar. “I hope you realize how lucky you are, William, to work with two such lovely women.”

“Indeed I do,” he said solemnly.

Tricia felt a burst of affection for the old man. She’d never known either of her grandfathers, but she hoped they’d been as sweet as her elderly employee.

“Mr. Everett, I hate to ask, but for the next couple of weeks I’m really going to depend on you and Ginny while Angelica’s away on her book tour. I might be called upon to take care of the café. Luckily, Frannie seems able to manage alone at the Cookery.”

“We have no plans for the next month or so. I’d be glad to fill in as needed,” the old man said.

“Thank you.”

“William, what do you think about a nice steak at Eddie’s Chop House?” Grace asked hopefully.

Mr. Everett’s mouth pursed in disapproval. “Now, dear, you know it’s not in our budget.”

“It’s in my budget,” she said, her voice tinged with strain. Grace clasped her husband’s hand, brandishing a forced smile. “Why don’t we talk about it in the car?” She led him to the exit. “See you soon,” she called. A dour Mr. Everett waved good-bye and closed the door behind them.

“Hmm—think there’s an argument brewing?” Ginny asked.

“It’s none of our business,” Tricia said. She wasn’t about to gossip about her favorite married couple—especially when Mr. Everett had confided his feelings about money to her. She tucked the check Grace had given her into the bottom of the register’s cash drawer. It looked like she was now officially the one to collect money in Jim’s name. Another thing to add to her to-do list.

“You may as well take off, too,” Tricia told Ginny as she gazed around the empty store. “You’ve got things to do as well.”

Ginny’s expression soured. “Packing isn’t my favorite thing. I’ve got an appointment to see another apartment tonight. Who knows—this might be the one.” She grabbed her purse from under the counter, and called a good-bye.

“Wait,” Tricia called, and Ginny turned. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Ginny paused, her expression changing from cheerful to wary in a heartbeat. “What is it?”

Tricia laughed. “Don’t look so worried. This is good news, not bad.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I wondered if you’d like to hear a business proposition I’ve been thinking about.”

“Business?” Ginny repeated. That perked her up.

“Yes. I’ve been mulling over your situation, and I really don’t want to see you lose your little cottage in the woods. What would you think about me holding the mortgage?”

Ginny blinked. “Come again?”

“I could pay off your mortgage, and then we could come to an agreement about repayment. This way you wouldn’t lose your house to foreclosure.”

Ginny was still blinking. “You’d do that for me?”

“I would. I will.”

Ginny’s gaze dipped, and she let out a breath, looking shell-shocked. “Wow. I can’t believe it. I might actually get to keep my little house.” She looked up. “Oh, Tricia, I don’t know how to thank you.” Ginny rushed forward and gave Tricia an enthusiastic hug. Then she pulled back, and actually jumped up and down couple of times. “Oh, wow!”

Tricia laughed. “I was hoping you’d like the idea.”

“I get to keep my house, I get to keep my house!” Ginny sang. Then, just as suddenly, she stood stock still and covered her mouth, as her eyes welled with tears. “Nobody’s ever done anything this nice for me in my whole life. Thank you, Tricia. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll have to speak to Roger Livingston—my lawyer—but according to Billie Hanson at the bank, we could iron out the details in no time.”

“You’ve already been to the bank?”

Tricia nodded.

“Oh, wow,” Ginny said again, and wiped at her eyes.

“Why don’t you go home—and start unpacking?” Tricia suggested.

“You don’t know how huge a weight has been lifted off me. Thank you, Tricia. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You’re the best boss in the world.”

“Go home,” Tricia said and pushed Ginny toward the door.

Again Ginny smiled and sang, “I get to keep my house, I get to keep my house,” as she went through the door.

Miss Marple jumped down from her perch behind the cash desk, and daintily walked across the glass top of the showcase, unmoved by Ginny’s euphoria. She had more important matters to consider, and looked hopefully at Tricia. Tricia looked at the clock and sighed. “Yes, it is almost your dinnertime.” Miss Marple allowed Tricia to smooth her fur, and began to purr. “Well, at least I’ve been able to make two people happy today.”