There were other, deeper ties that Tricia had believed bound her and Nikki together as friends. Had Nikki decided that was worth nothing, too?
Tricia’s lower lip trembled, but somehow she managed to speak. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Nikki. I’ve tried to be a good friend to you. How could you even think I’d betray…”
“Please leave,” Nikki said, her face rigid with disdain.
Tricia’s fingers clenched the bakery box and her throat constricted. It was just as well; she couldn’t think of anything to say to sway Nikki’s resolve.
She turned and left the Patisserie, perhaps for the very last time.
TWENTY-ONE
“So, did you hit on Russ?” Angelica asked, looking at Tricia over the top of her sunglasses. Despite the fact they were inside Booked for Lunch, sitting in the back booth, Angelica insisted on wearing the glasses and a headscarf. She said she wanted to keep a low profile.
“Of course not,” Tricia answered, and poked at the lettuce on her tuna plate. “You know I’m involved with Grant. Well, sort of. After he figures out who killed Pippa Comfort, we’ll be back together again,” she said confidently.
“Are you sure you want him back?” Angelica asked. “After all, he considers you a suspect in Pippa’s death.”
“It was me who found her,” Tricia said reasonably. “Well, Sarge and me. And I did have a relationship with Harry-albeit twenty years before. Of course he has to officially consider me a suspect.” She pushed the plate away. After her altercation with Nikki, she didn’t have much of an appetite.
Angelica shook her head sadly. “How long have you two been chums? Eighteen months and he still doesn’t know you well enough to realize you could never hurt-let alone kill-someone?”
Tricia’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought of the situation in quite those terms.
Angelica sighed. “What is it about us that we accept bad behavior from men and excuse them for it?”
“Not all men are rats. Daddy never cheated on Mother.”
“That we know of,” Angelica countered.
“Mr. Everett would never cheat on Grace.”
“No, but he’d prefer to find her at home making him a casserole instead of managing the charity they set up with his lottery winnings.”
“He’s just worried she’ll overdo it. He’s also from a generation where the man went to work and the woman kept the home fires burning.”
“Nonsense,” Angelica said. “Women have always worked. It’s just that they were ashamed to admit the family might need money-that one salary wasn’t cutting it back in the good old June Cleaver days.”
“Grace never had to work, but I think she’s enjoying it now.”
“Hey, is that you, Angelica?” a mocking voice called out. “Gonna burn down any buildings today? The fire exit is over here, folks!”
Everybody in the café had turned to look at the man dressed in overalls, a plaid shirt, a brown Carhartt jacket, and tall black rubber boots. Then their gazes followed his to lock on Angelica. She turned in her seat to glare at the fool. “I will not dignify that question, Sully. And if you’re not careful, I will never bring my car to your service station for an oil change ever again-and you will not get free seconds on the coffee the next time you come in.”
The idiot actually looked hurt. “Aw, I was just joking. Everybody could see it wasn’t your fault the TV station burned to the ground. But boy, the expression on your face.” And he laughed.
Big mistake.
Without another word, Angelica pointed to the door, shooting daggers at the guy. He realized his gaffe and seemed to shrink under her unforgiving stare. Meek as a mouse, he shuffled toward the door.
Everybody else in the café found somewhere else to look.
Angelica turned back to Tricia. “Now, where were we?”
Tricia leaned in and whispered. “I can see now why you’re wearing the sunglasses. Have you been getting this kind of treatment all day?”
Angelica nodded, stirring her by-now cold soup with a spoon. “E-mails, phone calls, catcalls on the street. You name it. I’m the brunt of everyone’s jokes. I’ve even heard that your being a jinx has rubbed off on me.”
Tricia cringed.
“Don’t worry, I don’t take that seriously.”
Tricia didn’t want to pursue that subject. “How did the conversation go with your agent?”
Angelica shrugged. “He was more interested in Harry Tyler than talking about my problems.”
“I thought you weren’t going to mention Harry.”
“I didn’t. He did. Haven’t you been reading the Nashua Telegraph? It’s a big deal that your ex-boyfriend has surfaced.”
“I must’ve missed the three-inch headline announcing it.”
“Anyway, Artie asked me for Harry’s number. I didn’t know if you wanted to tell him yourself or if I should just give him a call and give him the number.”
Tricia thought it over. She didn’t particularly want to speak to Pippa’s husband again, but she had a few nagging questions in the back of her mind. “Sure, I’ll give him the message.”
“Fine. I’ll give you Artie’s number before you go back to work.”
“I’m puzzled about something,” Tricia said. Angelica lifted her head enough to look over the top of her shades. “I was looking out my bedroom window last night, watching Grant take off in his SUV-”
“Pining for him, were you?” Angelica asked.
“No. But I must have been lost in thought because I was staring out the window when…I swear I saw Harry walking north on Main Street.”
“Where did he come from?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know. He wasn’t there-and then he was.”
“He’s not a ghost. He can’t just appear and then disappear into thin air.”
“I thought it was strange he was walking the streets of Stoneham so late.”
“Well, Chauncey was walking late. Maybe Harry was trying to get in some exercise, too.”
“He hardly needs it. He’s got abs like a washboard.”
Angelica pulled her sunglasses off. “And when did you see those?” She waggled her eyebrows knowingly.
“Under his shirt. He came to visit me on Monday. And get your mind out of the gutter, please. If you’d been more observant, you would’ve noticed, too.”
“When? I’ve never met the man.”
“You almost did-the night of the murder. I saw him for a brief second before he pulled his vanishing act.” Angelica shrugged. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about that night. We must’ve seen something.”
“What?” Angelica asked.
Tricia shook her head. “Something so insignificant that it meant nothing to us.”
Angelica sighed. “We were inside the front door for all of two minutes before we went up to the suite, and then you and Sarge were only there a couple of minutes before you took him out and found Pippa’s body.”
“That’s true,” Tricia said.
“We didn’t even run into any of the guests.”
“I did.”
Angelica frowned. “When?”
“When Sarge and I went down the back stairs to the kitchen. I saw Mary Fairchild on the landing.”
“What was she doing?”
Tricia thought about it. “Nothing. She was just standing there, holding a couple of glasses of sherry, when I rounded the stairs.”
“Do you think that’s significant?”
Tricia shrugged. “Maybe. But probably not. I mean-this is Mary we’re talking about.”
“I barely know her,” Angelica admitted. “We’ve only spoken a few times at the Chamber of Commerce breakfast meetings.”
“She’s been a member of the Tuesday Night Book Club for a few months now. And now that Nikki isn’t going to be there, we need all the warm bodies we can get. And speaking of Nikki once again, what am I going to do about the cookies?”