Baker shook his head and shoved Cheryl toward the waiting Sheriff’s Department cruiser and placed a hand on her head as he guided her into the backseat of the car.
“Do you think you can recover the stolen items?” Angelica asked.
“If we can get her to tell us where they are. My guess is, she’s already sold them.”
“What if she put the items on eBay?” Tricia asked.
“I can ask one of the guys to check it out.”
Tricia was about to tell him she’d bought a suspect figurine but decided not to. At this point, she had no clue who the seller was. She’d have to wait a couple of days until the figurine her friend Nancy had bought arrived in the mail. Then she’d know for sure if it was evidence the Sheriff’s Department could use. It could wait.
“How did you come to arrest Cheryl?” Angelica asked.
Baker looked at his prisoner in the car. “We got a tip that someone was trying to break into the Happy Domestic. I wouldn’t be surprised if we find that Ms. Griffin made the call herself.”
“She’s not likely to go to jail for a first offense, is she?” Tricia asked.
“It’s possible—if she has a really crummy lawyer and if she gets a vindictive judge. More likely she’ll be asked to do community service and make restitution.” Just as Tricia had thought. He opened the driver’s door. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said to Tricia, removed his hat, and climbed inside the cruiser.
Tricia bent down to speak to Cheryl through Baker’s open window. “Cheryl, Grace Harris-Everett of the Everett Charitable Foundation has been looking for you.”
“I don’t want charity!” Cheryl declared.
“She may have a job for you at the Stoneham Clothes Closet.”
Cheryl looked ready to cry. “Now you tell me!”
“Have Mrs. Everett call the county lockup. Maybe there’s something she can do for Miss Griffin,” Baker said, and put the cruiser in gear.
Tricia stepped back, and she and Angelica watched as Baker backed the patrol car into the street.
“So much for the great Stoneham robbery,” Angelica said with a shrug.
Tricia shook her head. “Poor Cheryl just hasn’t got a clue.”
“Great name for a mystery bookstore,” Angelica quipped.
“Very funny.”
“It looks like this puts your little investigation right back at square one,” Angelica said, and started walking again.
“I wasn’t investigating anything. I’m just curious about the goings-on here in Stoneham.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Angelica reminded her. “Come on back to my place and I’ll fix you something to eat. Preferably made of leftover turkey.”
That wasn’t exactly what Tricia was in the mood for, but the pickings were even slimmer in her own refrigerator.
She followed Angelica to her loft apartment and settled down at the big kitchen table. She wondered if Miss Marple was sleeping or missing her. If the latter, she knew she would get a stern scolding when she returned home. Angelica’s home seemed so . . . empty without a cat. But it was useless to even bring up the subject of adding a feline friend to the mix. And honestly, Angelica was far too busy to take care of a pet.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Angelica said, taking two wineglasses from the kitchen cupboard.
Penny. That was the name of Frannie’s cat.
“You wouldn’t want to know,” Tricia said as Angelica poured. “It’s too bad I know next to nothing about eBay.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because, I want to find out who’s selling those Dolly Dolittle figurines that were stolen from the Happy Domestic. I’m almost sure they’ve shown up on eBay.” She explained about her research and that she expected to receive one of the figurines in the mail.
“Frannie knows everything about anything,” Angelica said. “Why don’t you give her a call?”
“Do you have her home number?”
“On speed-dial,” Angelica said, and handed Tricia the phone. Angelica turned back to the fridge to rummage, and Frannie answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Frannie. It’s Tricia. I’m sorry to call so late, but do you have a couple of minutes?”
“Penny and I were just watching an old movie, anyway. What do you need?”
“If I wanted to sell something on eBay, and I didn’t have a computer, where could I go to do that?”
“But you do have a computer. I’ve seen you use it.”
“I’m speaking hypothetically,” Tricia said, hoping she’d kept her impatience from her voice.
“There’s a place in Milford that does it. They even pack and ship the items—for a fee, of course. But if you wanted to stay local, I’d send you to Brandy Arkin.”
“Brandy?” Tricia repeated, surprised. An eavesdropping Angelica raised an eyebrow as well.
“She’s a power seller. And since the day care center closed, she’s stepped up her online business. She’s got to keep a roof over her head, you know.”
“I take it you don’t have to upload pictures of the items you’re selling,” Tricia said.
“There’s a cost for everything. But who wants to buy something if you can’t see a picture of it?”
Who, indeed. Cheryl wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, and she was broke. What if she’d asked Brandy to list the Dolly Dolittle figurines but tried to save money by not posting pictures? It would be just like her.
But even if Brandy did post the items for sale, that didn’t mean she knew they were stolen. And even if she suspected it, she probably wouldn’t admit it.
And what good did any of this do, except to help prove Cheryl was guilty of breaking and entering the Happy Domestic and selling stolen items. It sure would help the prosecutor convict Cheryl, which was exactly what she wanted. She’d made a sloppy entry into a life of crime—just as she’d intended. Maybe she wasn’t quite as vapid as everyone gave her credit for.
“You still there?” Frannie asked.
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking. I’ll let you get back to your movie.”
“Nice talking to you,” Frannie said, and hung up.
Tricia handed the phone back to Angelica. “Frannie says Brandy Arkin is an eBay power seller.”
“So what’s that got to do with anything?” Angelica asked. She held a carving knife in her hand, and what was left of the turkey carcass sat on the counter.
“Nothing, I suppose.” Tricia thought back on her day. “Bob still hasn’t returned any of my calls. Why don’t you call him, and then you can pass the phone to me and I’ll talk to him.”
“I am not calling Bob for you.” She hacked off what was left of the turkey’s thigh.
“I know you’re angry with him, but if you want to annoy him, this is the perfect opportunity,” Tricia said.
“If you must know, he’s being punished.” Angelica peeled off a bit of skin, and attacked what was left of the breast.
“By you?”
“Of course by me. I’m waiting for him to call me. Groveling wouldn’t be a bad move on his part, either.” Did she seem just a tad annoyed at what was apparently now her erstwhile boyfriend? Angelica hadn’t turned back, so Tricia couldn’t see her face to judge just how upset she was about her relationship with Bob.
“I thought you guys were finished.”
“Not entirely,” Angelica admitted.
“Maybe you left him hanging for just a little too long,” Tricia suggested.
“I really don’t want to talk about Bob. Now, what do you want to eat? A turkey club or a turkey salad sandwich? Or I could smother it in gravy with some leftover garlic mashed potatoes on the side.”
“Turkey salad is fine. But only if you’re making it with whole wheat bread and light mayonnaise.”
“I do not have light anything in my kitchen, and I only have a baguette from Nikki’s Patisserie in the freezer, but it’ll be better than any sandwich you’ve ever eaten at home.”