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 did learn 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.”
“Then by all means come back to work. Linda and I will be waiting for your return.”
“Do you think she’s working out?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, I do.” And she wasn’t going to mention her fears of earlier in the day-to anyone.
“That’s very good,” he said, but he didn’t sound enthusiastic. She’d mention to him that Ginny at the Happy Domestic was looking forward to sharing his work time with Tricia. It was a win-win situation for all, really.
“Is everything all right between you and Grace?” Tricia asked, feeling terribly nosy.
“We had a long talk. I believe things will be different from now on. Better.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“I shall report for work at my usual time,” Mr. Everett said, regaining control of the conversation. He didn’t like to talk about personal things, after all.
“Very good. I’ll see you then. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
As Tricia hung up the phone, she decided she should get some of Mr. Everett’s favorite thumbprint cookies as a welcome-back gesture. And she’d buy an extra dozen or so to make sure that he could take some home to enjoy later, too. She liberated a twenty-dollar bill from the till and approached her new assistant.
“Linda, I’m heading over to the Patisserie for some cookies. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Sure thing,” Linda said, and went back to her conversation with the customer.
Since it wasn’t a long walk and it was a sunny day, Tricia left Haven’t Got a Clue without a coat and hurried down the sidewalk. Now if only Nikki still had the cookies on hand. Mr. Everett was particularly fond of the thumbprints with raspberry jam but would happily accept any other kind.
She’d timed it right and there were no other customers in the bakery when she arrived. Charging in, she called a cheerful hello but was greeted by a stony-faced Nikki. “Can I help you?” she said coldly.
For a moment Tricia wasn’t sure who Nikki was speaking to, and she looked behind her to see if she’d missed seeing someone else in the bakery’s small waiting area. But as she’d already noted, there was no one else around. “Um…have you got any thumbprint cookies today? Mr. Everett is coming back to work after his scare yesterday and they’re his favorites.”
“Yes,” Nikki said. “How many did you want?”
“How many do you have?”
“Four dozen.”
“I’ll take them all. Whatever my customers don’t eat, Mr. Everett can take home. I assume they freeze well.”
“Yes, they do.” Nikki turned away and filled a bakery box with the cookies. She closed and tied the box with thin white string and rang up the sale.
Tricia gave her the twenty and then accepted the change. “Is anything wrong, Nikki? You don’t seem especially happy this morning.”
“Then I’ll cut to the quick. I don’t appreciate you visiting Russ at his office. You two are no longer together, as if I had to even say it.”
Tricia blinked. “But we’re still-” She gulped. “Friends.” Okay, that was pushing it.
“It’s me he chose, not you. I think you should just back off.”
“I assure you we didn’t talk about anything personal,” Tricia said, finding it hard to believe Nikki could possibly be jealous of her recent conversation with Russ.
“Stay away from my man,” Nikki said bluntly.
“Believe me, I have no romantic interest in Russ. Remember, he dumped me.”
“He still talks about you-way too much.”
“I can’t help what he says,” Tricia replied, feeling defensive. “I only went to his office to ask him what he knew about Pippa Comfort’s murder.”
“Why is it whenever somebody dies here in Stoneham, you’re always involved? You really are the village jinx.”
Not that again!
“Nikki, how can you say such hurtful things? We’re friends.”
“Not anymore. I’m sorry, Tricia, but I really don’t want you to patronize my store.”
“But Mr. Everett loves your cookies. All my customers do.”
“Then if you wish to continue to offer my products, you can send Mr. Everett in to get them.”
“Nikki-” Tricia began, feeling incredibly hurt.
“It goes without saying that I will no longer be a member of the Tuesday Night Book Club. And you are definitely not invited to our wedding.”
Tricia felt hot tears fill her eyes. What had Russ told Nikki after their brief meeting the day before? Had he boasted to her that Tricia still needed him for information? Had the louse lied and said that she’d made a play for him? The doors to his office had been open. Patty Perkins had probably heard their entire conversation and could vouch that nothing untoward had gone on between them. But somehow Tricia doubted that Nikki would believe her-or Patty.