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“Is something wrong?” Tricia asked.
Gi
“Why don’t you hang up your coat, and then come back and have a cup of coffee?”
Gi
“Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Every Friday night I balance our checkbook. Last night was no different. But things just aren’t adding up. Brian works all those extra hours, and it’s not showing up in the bank.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure if I want to know the answer.”
What had Angelica said about rats?
Tricia decided to push. “What do you suspect-that he’s seeing someone on the side?”
“Until last night, I never would’ve even considered he might cheat on me. We’ve been together since high school.”
And maybe that was part of the problem.
“What do you think I should do?” Gi
Tricia chose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted was to give Gi
Oh, yes, she was one to talk. But then, she wasn’t in the dark about where their relationship stood. Russ had made it plain he was moving on.
Tricia took in Gi
Gi
“The break room. It’s finished. Well, almost.”
Gi
“Sure.”
Tricia led the way upstairs to the storeroom. She threw open the door. “Ta-da!”
Gi
“This morning. I got up a little early. The fridge is plugged in, and I even tested the microwave. It does boil water.”
“This is fantastic. Thank you, Tricia. You sure know how to keep your employees happy.”
Tricia glanced at the microwave’s clock. “Oops! We should’ve opened a full minute ago. We’d better go. I hope you won’t sit in your car to eat your lunch anymore.”
“No way. Maybe I’ll bring in my old boom box. That way I can listen to music while I eat lunch or read.”
“Go for it!”
Back in the store, Tricia unlocked the shop door, turned the sign to say OPEN, and headed for the register. Not thirty seconds later, the door opened, the little bell overhead jingling as Joe Hirt stepped over the threshold. He didn’t look happy.
“Hello, Tricia.”
Tricia’s heart sank.
Joe nodded at Gi
“No, you can’t,” Tricia said. “Captain Baker told me I’m not supposed to speak to you.”
“I’ll bet he did. When was that? Right after you gave him Pammy’s diary?”
“I really should go… do something,” Gi
“No, please stay. Joe, you’ll have to leave. I simply can’t speak to you about any of this. I promised Captain Baker.”
“You’re finishing what your friend tried to do-break up my family,” he accused.
“I turned the diary over to the Sheriff’s Department. Anything else would’ve been obstruction of justice-a crime. And I really ca
His arms hung rigidly at his sides as he clenched his fists-not unlike Clint Eastwood in an old spaghetti western, about to draw and fire. “We’ll speak again,” Joe said grimly, then turned and left the shop.
Tricia let out a long sigh and leaned against the counter, feeling drained.
“What’s he so pissed off about?” Gi
“I’m not supposed to talk about it to anyone.”
“Not even me?” Gi
Tricia shook her head. “I’m sorry, Gi
Gi
They both looked up as the shop door opened. This time it was a real customer.
Tricia spoke. “Sometimes the best thing you can do when things aren’t going well is to lose yourself in work. That’s what I’m pla
Gi
Trust Gi
“How about if I do it?”
“That would be great. Maybe later I’ll go upstairs and bring some down, unless you’d like to bring in one of your own from home.”
“I do have a favorite one-it’s got a little gray cat on it. It reminds me of Miss Marple.” At the sound of her name, Tricia’s cat appeared and jumped on the counter, giving a yow! for attention. Gi
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be up here,” Tricia scolded the cat. She picked her up and set her on the floor. Miss Marple walked away with her head and her tail held high.
Gi
Tricia touched her assistant’s arm, and nodded in reassurance.
With Gi
“You didn’t do as I said,” came the voice. “You didn’t give me the diary.”
That damn voice again. And he/she/it had called the shop line, not her personal line.
“How could I? Besides, I told you, Joe, I can’t talk to you. And I’ve told the Sheriff’s Department about these calls. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already tapped my line to catch you.” A lie, but the caller didn’t have to know that.
“You’ll pay for this,” said the voice.
Tricia hung up the phone. She wasn’t about to be intimidated by Joe Hirt. Instead, she picked up the receiver and dialed the Sheriff’s Department. It took five minutes on hold before Captain Baker came on the line.
“I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you again,” he said.
“Neither did I, but Joe Hirt came to my shop this morning.”
“That is a problem,” Baker agreed. “I talked to him earlier, and I told him not to contact you.”
“He also just called me with that stupid voice-altering device. This time on the shop line-not my personal phone.”
“Probably because the caller knew you weren’t in your apartment.”
That was true. She thought about what he’d just said. “You don’t think my caller is Joe Hirt?”
“It could be-but not necessarily.”
“I told whoever it was that you were tapping my phones, and would catch him.”
His only comment was a flat “Hmmm.”
“What do you want me to do in the meantime?” Tricia asked.
“As I told you before; avoid the Hirt family-and keep your curtains closed at night.”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a bored sigh.
“Tricia, I mean it.”
“And I’ll do it.”
“Thank you. And please feel free to call me with any new developments.”