And with that, he turned and exited the café, slamming the door behind him, rattling the glass within it.
A squeak issued from the doors to the kitchen and Angelica emerged. “My, my. He was a tad upset.”
Tricia sighed. “He’s just annoyed that I knew more about the inn’s guests than he did.”
Angelica moved closer and placed a hand on Tricia’s arm. “He’s right, though, Trish. Poking around and asking questions could get you killed. Mother and Daddy would never forgive me if I let that happen.”
Tricia doubted that. In the recent past, her parents had rarely ventured north from their South American vacation home to spend quality time with either of their offspring, and they couldn’t even use the excuse of ill health.
She put those thoughts out of her mind. It did no good to dwell on them.
“I’d better go. Pixie is waiting.”
“I have a feeling she’s going to work out just fine,” Angelica said.
“If she doesn’t, I’m holding you to your promise to help me find someone else.”
“I stand by my word. Now, go back to work and stop thinking about Pippa Comfort’s murderer-at least for the rest of the day.”
“With pleasure,” Tricia said, and opened the door to leave. But as she crossed the street to return to her store, she was sure that it was a promise she wouldn’t be able to keep.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Pixie hadn’t lied. No matter what vintage mystery author Tricia threw at her, she came up with at least one title to go with it. Was there actually a chance Pixie might be an asset to Haven’t Got a Clue? Tricia would find out the next morning when Pixie had to interact with real customers.
Tricia also noted how restless Linda had become once all the job-swap arrangements had been finalized. Her gaze kept sliding to the clock on the wall, as though willing it to hurry to closing time so she could be shed of the place once and for all.
“Since you’re starting a new job on Monday, you may as well go home,” Tricia said.
“I wouldn’t feel right about that,” Linda said. “I already feel guilty about leaving you like this.”
Tricia looked around the store, which was devoid of customers. “I doubt anyone else will come by this late in the day.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Linda said, already untying the apron she wore.
“You can go, too, Pixie,” Tricia said.
“Are you going to stay open until six?” she asked.
Tricia nodded.
“Then I’d just as soon poke around, get to know the place. If you don’t mind.”
“Be my guest.”
Tricia watched as Pixie strolled between the aisles of shelves, reading the spines of the books. Occasionally she ran her fingers over a book and smiled.
Tricia turned her attention to the unopened stack of mail that sat on the counter while Linda collected her coat. Bills, circulars-nothing very interesting.
Linda appeared before her. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out as you’d planned, Tricia. But I’ll be eternally grateful for the chance you’ve given me.”
Just go! Tricia longed to say. Instead, she said, “Good luck in your new job. Stop by on Monday and I’ll have your check ready.”
“Thank you.” Linda took one last look around the store, smiled, and left it for good.
Tricia went back to opening the mail. The door rattled. Had Linda forgotten something? No.
“I thought you’d left town,” she told Harry Tyler.
“I just wanted to say good-bye.”
“I thought you’d done that, too.”
“Okay, I came in to buy a copy of Death Beckons. Would you believe it? I don’t even own one.”
“Sorry, we’re all out. For some reason, we had a run on them. What do you need it for, anyway?”
“I thought I’d give an autographed copy to my new agent.”
“Gee, maybe you’ll have to pay full price for a new copy. Do you even have eight dollars?”
“Yeah. I do. But if you want to give me some money, I wouldn’t say no.”
“I don’t think so. And by the way, I spoke to one of the inn’s owners. She told me you were not asked to leave the property. They were willing to let you stay as long as you needed after your tragic loss.”
Harry shrugged. “It’s time for me to move on.”
“That isn’t the only lie you told me. Your alibi is unraveling. Amy Schram swears she wasn’t with you on Monday night.”
“It’s really none of your business.”
“It is when my sister owns a piece of the Sheer Comfort Inn.”
“Ah, now I see why you’re trying to mess up my life.”
“You did that the day you faked your death and walked away from everything you knew and loved-and especially those who loved you.”
He cocked his head to one side and gave her a lascivious grin. “Did you count yourself among them?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she lied.
“What are you going to do now, call your boyfriend and have him come after me?”
“He’s probably already after you, Harry. You were just too arrogant to believe it could actually happen.”
“I did not kill Pippa.”
“Then who did?”
“Maybe it was Clay Ellington. They had a thing for each other all those years ago. Maybe it was that old guy who creeped her out.”
“Chauncey Porter?”
He nodded. “For all I know it could’ve been you or your sister.”
“Don’t make me laugh. We’d only met her a few minutes before she was killed.”
He shrugged. “Go ahead, talk to the cops. They can’t touch me because I’ve got an alibi. And it wasn’t Amy.”
“I suppose you were having more than one fling.” And then she saw in his face that it was true. “Another one of your students?” she accused.
He laughed. “Hey, it turns out teaching is a very powerful aphrodisiac. Why shouldn’t I take advantage of the situation? My wife was as cold a fish as they come.”
Or had she been disgusted by her husband to the point of avoiding his touch?
Tricia shook her head. “What did I ever see in the likes of you?”
“The same thing my students do, what many of my readers did. You wanted to be with someone famous. Someone who could do what you couldn’t.”
“And what was that? Get published?”
Harry nodded.
Tricia had to fight to keep herself from slugging the guy. “Get out of my store.”
“I’m hurt. You never even mentioned the little gift I sent.”
Tricia’s eyes widened.
“I told you we’d meet again.”
“That picture was taken years after I was with you.”
“I told you, I eventually made it back to the East Coast. You were with some joker eating at a sidewalk bistro in Portland, Maine. I snapped your picture. I mailed it last Saturday when I was in Nashua on an errand for the inn. I’d been carrying it around all these years. I thought maybe we could get together again. I didn’t know you’d turned into a bitch.”
That was the second time in two days Tricia had been referred to by the B word. She didn’t like it. Even though he’d been with Amy and some other woman, the rat had still plotted to add her to his stable. She hoped Amy was smart enough to get tested for sexually transmitted diseases. No doubt Pippa had withdrawn her affections once she’d found her husband had no inclination to remain faithful.
“Then why did you disappear when I entered the inn?”
“I’m not stupid. Pippa was my meal ticket. Believe it or not, I didn’t go out of my way to make her angry.”
Tricia didn’t believe it. “And what about the other stuff?”
It was Harry’s turn to look puzzled. “What other stuff?”
“The cocktail napkin and the scarf?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, she believed him.
“I gotta go. I’m packed and ready to meet that agent first thing Monday morning. Look for me on the Times best sellers list in about eighteen months.” He flashed his teeth one last time and sauntered out the door.