Bookplate Special

“He’s going to be all right, right?” he badgered.

“His wounds aren’t life threatening,” an EMT told him, “but to be on the safe side, we’re going to take him to the trauma center in Nashua.”

Another Sheriff’s Department cruiser pulled up outside the i

She decided not to wait for the ambulance to take off, and walked purposefully for her car in the back parking lot. If she could arrive at the hospital before the captain, perhaps she could sneak in to see Paige before the sheriff’s deputy could interrogate the philanthropist.

“Tricia, wait!”

She turned and stopped. Russ. Again.

“Tricia!” he called again, and caught up with her. “What were you asking Paige? What’s with the envelope you mentioned?”

So, he had heard her. And, typically, he was more interested in the story than in her. He hadn’t been this interested on Tuesday before he’d dropped his bombshell about leaving Stoneham.

Her anger boiled over. But instead of coming up with a scathing retort, she settled on simplicity. “Leave me alone.”

He reached for her arm, but she wrenched it away. “Come on, we’ve been friends a long time.”

“A year. We were friends for a year. We’re not friends anymore.”

“Tricia!”

She pointed at the crowd still milling around the Sheriff’s Department cruisers and the ambulance. “Go get your story. You need the practice if you’re going to be a big-time crime beat reporter once again.”

Russ glared at her for what seemed like a long time, and then he turned to stalk back down the driveway.

Tricia watched him for a couple of seconds before she started for her car. As she walked, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse, and punched in the preset button to dial Gi

“Gi

“Where are you? The store was supposed to open five minutes ago!”

“I had an errand to run. I’ll be right there. By the way, didn’t you once tell me that Brian has an aunt who works at the medical center in Nashua?”

“Sure. Her name’s Elsie Temple. She works at the reception desk in the ER.”

Bingo!

“Is there any chance you could pull in a favor for me?”

“I can try,” Gi

SEVENTEEN

Brian’s Aunt Elsie wrung her hands nervously. A woman of fifty or so, her neatly coiffed hair was a dull jet black, with not a gray root in sight. “If anyone but Gi

They’d had to meet in a second-floor ladies’ room, well out of the way of any security cameras-just in case. Tricia had no desire to get this nervous wreck of a woman fired.

“If anyone asks who you’re here to visit, say Smith. Seems like we’ve always got at least one in the ER at any given time. And for heaven’s sake, don’t let on who gave you the badge.”

“I won’t. And I promise I won’t cause a disturbance. I only want a chance to talk to Mr.-”

“Don’t tell me the patient’s name. The less I know, the better. Holy smoke,” Elsie nearly whimpered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Tricia peeled off the backing and applied the sticker to her jacket. “I’d better go. Thank you.”

Elsie nodded, grabbing a paper towel from the wall dispenser and soaking it in cold water. She wrung it out before applying it to her forehead.

The ladies’ room door closed behind Tricia, who felt like six kinds of a creep, but she had to get to Paige before Captain Baker did.

Was it possible she could find a dirty laundry bin and rustle up a lab coat? No, without a hospital name badge, she’d be outed in a heartbeat. Playing the visitor card was her best shot to get in and out of the ER without a hitch.

Head held high, Tricia made her way back to the emergency room lobby, looked around, and confidently strode through the doors into the patient-care area.

The ER reminded Tricia of a giant horseshoe, with patient cubicles grouped around center workstations filled with computer terminals. Patient names were written on whiteboards outside each cubicle. It had been at least ten minutes since Paige had been brought in. Since his injuries weren’t life threatening, he wasn’t liable to be rushed into surgery… she hoped.

Thanks to her visitor’s badge, nurses and technicians passed by her without a second glance. Good. She passed the last cubicle on the first side, and started down the row to check out the others. Intent on reading the patient names, Tricia almost bumped into a man in a gray suit. Too late she recognized him as part of Paige’s entourage.

“What are you doing here?” Gray Suit growled.

“I-I…” Caught-and without even finding Paige’s cubicle. “I need to speak with Mr. Paige.”

“Now is hardly the time.” Gray Suit looked around, grabbed Tricia’s elbow, and steered her toward the exit. Now she’d not only be shown the door, but probably be turned over to hospital security.

Gray Suit guided Tricia through the ER lobby, right past security, and out the Emergency entrance.

The cool air felt rather refreshing as Gray Suit kept Tricia moving down the sidewalk and away from the hospital. Finally he stopped and let go of her arm. “Paige won’t tell you anything,” he said at last.

“But you don’t even know what I want to ask.”

“I heard what you said back at the i

“What happened to the envelope?”

“It was turned over to one of Mr. Paige’s attorneys.”

“Does the Sheriff’s Department know about it?”

Gray Suit shook his head.

“Were you aware Pammy Fredericks was murdered?”

Gray Suit looked up sharply. “No, I wasn’t. I don’t pay attention to what happens in hick towns. But that explains why we didn’t hear from her again.”

“Don’t you find it strange that Pammy attempted to blackmail Mr. Paige and then was found dead a day or so later?”

“Not at all. Sounds like she was bad news.”

“A case could be made that someone in Mr. Paige’s organization-say, a bodyguard like yourself-might be responsible for her death.”

Gray Suit laughed. “Hey, lady, I ain’t no James Bond, and I’m definitely not licensed to kill.”

Tricia studied his face. He was probably no older than thirty; muscular, with sandy brown hair and dark eyes. Could he be a reader? No, too young. More likely a moviegoer.

“Now that you know about Pammy’s death, you ought to report receiving that envelope to Captain Baker of the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Department.”

“I’ll consider it.”

At that moment, a Sheriff’s Department cruiser pulled up to the side of the building. Sure enough, Grant Baker sat in the passenger seat.

“And here he is now. I hope you’ll do the right thing,” she told Gray Suit, “because if you don’t, I will.”

Baker got out of the car, making a beeline for Tricia and Gray Suit.

“What are you doing here, Ms. Miles?” he demanded.

“I came to see Mr. Paige after he was shot.” She jerked a thumb in Gray Suit’s direction. “This gentleman works for Mr. Paige. We were just discussing the envelope Pammy Fredericks sent to Mr. Paige last week.”

Baker’s eyes narrowed. “Envelope? What envelope?”

Tricia explained how Lois Kerr had seen Pammy making copies of the diary, and then immediately afterward she’d gone to the post office, where Ted Missile had seen Paige’s name on the envelope.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Baker demanded.

“Maybe if you hadn’t called me a terrier, I would have.”