Lorna Barrett - Chapter & Hearse

Ginny said nothing. Tricia wasn’t sure she was actually breathing—she looked ready to explode. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be able to carry her share of the conversational load. “What brings you back to town?” Tricia asked Antonio.

“I want to check out the site before my architect comes tomorrow.”

“Surely the sale won’t go through until after the insurance company settles with the current owner.”

“Oh, sì , I know. But my employer wants to be ready to start construction the day after we close on the property.”

“What’s the hurry?” Ginny asked, and then added, “not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Time is money,” Antonio answered. “I will be on the site every day, overseeing the construction.”

“Every day?” Ginny asked eagerly. “And when do you think that will be?”

“Hopefully in the fall. My employer has many friends in the insurance business. I’m sure she can speed up the process. The polizia have already signed off on the cause of the explosion that destroyed the old building.” He shook his head. “My employer wants the new building to have the same character—to blend in with the rest of the street. Of course, it will have many upgrades: insulation, up-to-date HVAC systems. But the turisti will not know it was not there for one hundred years.”

Eugenia arrived with a tray, placed paper napkins on the table, and set the glasses down. She did so with care, and this time when she spoke, her voice held respect. “What may I get you, sir?”

Antonio waved a hand to take in Ginny and Tricia. “Ladies first.”

“I’ll have the house salad with raspberry vinaigrette,” Ginny said politely. So much for a big steak dinner.

“Tricia?” Antonio said.

“I’ll have the strawberry shortcake—with extra whipped cream, thank you.”

“Tricia?” Ginny asked, amazed at her choice.

“Life is short. Eat dessert first,” she said simply.

Antonio frowned, looking like he might have missed something.

“And you?” Eugenia asked, her voice soft—almost soothing—as she clenched her pencil, poised to write down his order. She hadn’t written down either Tricia’s or Ginny’s request.

“Steak, medium rare. Baked potato. And salad.” Antonio collected Tricia’s menu and handed them both to Eugenia.” Grazie. ”

Eugenia looked almost as love-struck as Ginny. She gave a little laugh and said, “No problem,” making Tricia cringe.

Ginny waited for Eugenia to retreat before speaking again. “Do you think you’ll be moving to Stoneham anytime soon?”

Tricia resisted the urge to shake her head, keeping her teeth clenched. Don’t be so obvious, she wanted to warn Ginny, who gazed at Antonio with cow eyes. Either Antonio didn’t notice, or he had chosen to overlook it. He shook his head. “Not until later this summer. I have much business to take care of before I can relocate. And I wish to thank you, Ms. Miles, for giving me the number of the manager at the Brookview Inn. We are speaking tomorrow about a possible alliance. My employer is very interested in investigating the possibilities.”

“You wouldn’t buy the inn outright?” Tricia asked.

“At this point, we are only talking about possibilities. Who knows if we will come to an agreement? I was just telling Bob Kelly—”

“You’ve spoken with Bob?” Tricia asked. “When?”

“About twenty minutes ago.”

“We spent the last hour looking for him,” Ginny said.

“I’m surprised he took your call. He’s been ignoring all mine,” Tricia said. “Did he say where he was or where he was going?”

Antonio shook his head.

“Just that he had business out of town. A mission of mercy, I think he called it.”

Tricia instantly thought of Angelica. If someone was after Bob, could they be after Angelica as well? She thought of all the little accidents and mishaps Angelica had experienced since Wednesday evening, and suddenly they seemed even more sinister.

“I have to go,” Tricia said, grabbed her purse, and struggled to get out of the booth. She paused only long enough to dig into her wallet for two twenty-dollar bills. “You two have fun.”

“Tricia, where are you going?” Ginny asked, concerned.

“I just remembered something I have to do. I’ll see you in the morning, Ginny,” she said, gave a quick wave, and hurried for the door.

“ Ciao, ” Antonio called after her.

Once outside, Tricia pulled out her cell phone and hit autodial for Angelica’s phone. It went to voice mail on the fourth ring. “It’s Angelica. I’m not available right now. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Ange, it’s Tricia. No time to explain, but someone may be after you—the same person who killed Jim Roth. Call me as soon as you get this message, and don’t trust anyone! I mean no one—not even Bob! Call me!”

Tricia flipped the phone shut and broke into a jog, heading for Haven’t Got a Clue, her thoughts racing. Where was Angelica’s next signing? She couldn’t remember. She had printed out her whole book tour itinerary, and a copy was taped to the fridge and another was under the counter at Haven’t Got a Clue.

Tricia was breathless by the time she reached Haven’t Got a Clue. She fumbled with her keys, unlocked the door, and burst inside. Miss Marple was sitting on the sales counter and rose with a sharp “ Yow!”

“No time now,” Tricia told the cat, and practically skidded around the cash desk. “I’ve got to warn Angelica!” She pawed through the stuff littering the shelf under the counter and found the printed sheet, then ran her finger down the page until she found Monday night’s signing in Woodstock. The old rotary phone on the counter was too slow, so she punched in the number on her cell phone.

“Crazy Hermit Bookstore, Martha here. How can I help you?”

“Angelica Miles is supposed to sign her cookbook tonight at your store.”

“That’s right.”

“This is an emergency. I need to speak with her right away.”

“I’m sorry, but the signing ended about half an hour ago. Ms. Miles has already left the store.”

“Did she say where she was going? To her hotel?”

“I think she said she was driving home.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I wish I could help you more.”

“Thank you. You’ve already been a big help.” Tricia folded her phone. What should she do now? If whoever killed Jim and had already gone after Bob was gunning for Angelica, too, she would be the most vulnerable on the road. In fact, every time the person attacked, he or she had targeted Angelica’s car—or targeted Angelica with his or her own car.

Tricia’s mind raced. Angelica had said that whoever chased her on the road the night before had hit a guardrail. Darcy’s car was out of commission and she needed a ride from Jake. Could she have been chasing Angelica?

That didn’t seem likely. Angelica had never mentioned that Darcy knew anyone in Stoneham prior to her taking the waitressing job at Booked for Lunch. But then, why would Angelica discuss her employee in great detail? She certainly hadn’t mentioned Jake’s past.

Darcy had been an acceptable, if annoying, employee. Angelica trusted her with the cash receipts.

Which hadn’t been adding up.

And it had been Jake who’d brought the receipts over for the past two days—not Darcy.

And what about that order of chicken Angelica had known nothing about? Darcy had seemed nervous when Tricia wrote out the check for the deliveryman. Jake had been watching from the café’s small kitchen, and had said nothing. Could he and Darcy be in on all this together?

Tricia didn’t want to believe that. Not with all the faith Angelica had put in Jake.