Bookplate Special

“I think I’ll take out the trash,” Tricia said, and then she thought of Pammy in the garbage cart and winced. Still, the wastebasket under the counter was full.

She picked up the basket and headed for the back of the store, disarming the security alarm before opening the door. The alley that ran behind this side of Main Street was a good five feet lower than the front of the store, and she trotted down the steps to the waiting Dumpsters. Haven’t Got a Clue didn’t really create enough refuse to warrant such large receptacles-one for cardboard boxes only, the other for other trash-and she wondered if she could trade one of hers for Angelica’s two trash carts.

She emptied the basket and turned to head back into the building just as the door to the Cookery slammed shut, giving Tricia a start. With Angelica tied up at her new café, her newly promoted manager, Fra

For the past couple of weeks Fra

Tricia climbed the steps and reentered her store. Gi

The Cookery was quiet, with only one or two customers browsing the bookshelves. Now that Angelica had dismantled the cooking demonstration area, she’d gained more retail space. The store was doing well-too well for just one employee. That was just Tricia’s opinion, of course. Fra

Fra

Tricia gave her friend a genuine smile. “Hey, Fra

“I’m sure surprised to see you… after what happened and all.” Fra

Tricia had momentarily forgotten about Pammy. Fra

“Of course,” Fra

“I was out behind my store a few minutes ago, and I couldn’t help but notice-”

“Please don’t tell Angelica,” Fra

“Pe

“That darling little kitty. She’s the color of a bright copper pe

On the one hand, Tricia wanted to commend Fra

“I won’t tell,” she promised. “But now that you’ve been putting out food, she’ll expect to be fed. If Angelica finds out-”

“I’ve got it all pla

This time it was Tricia who forced a smile as she waggled her fingers in a wave and headed out the door for Haven’t Got a Clue. And true to her word, she had no intention of telling Angelica about Fra

Before she could make it back to the store, Tricia heard her name being called. She looked around and saw Captain Baker hailing her from across the street. He waited for a car to pass before crossing to meet her on the sidewalk.

“Sir, you are guilty of a crime,” Tricia said, straight-faced. Of course, she’d been crossing Main Street at its center for weeks, ever since Angelica had rented her new property.

“I beg your pardon?” Baker said.

“You jaywalked across Main Street,” she explained, huddling to keep warm in the stiff breeze.

“Ms. Miles,” he said, his voice growing somber, “my men found a car several blocks from here, apparently abandoned. It has Co

A wave of fresh grief coursed through Tricia. “I suppose I could look, but I really don’t know what she had, other than the suitcases she kept at my apartment for the past two weeks.”

“Would you be willing to try?”

She stared into his green eyes, and her willpower dissolved. What was the hold men with green eyes had on her?

“Of course. But I need to let my assistant know I’ll be gone for a few minutes.”

Baker accompanied her to Haven’t Got a Clue, where she grabbed her coat and told Gi

Outside, Baker bowed like a gallant knight, and made a sweeping gesture toward the cruiser parked on the opposite side of the street. Then he walked her across the pavement, opened the passenger-side door, and held it open until she’d seated herself, grasping the seat belt and buckling herself in.

As he walked around the car, Tricia took in the police sca

Baker climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He glanced in the rearview mirror before easing the gearshift into Drive and pressing the accelerator.

“You should buckle your seat belt,” Tricia admonished.

“The law here in New Hampshire requires seat belt use only by those eighteen years and younger,” he said with confidence.

“Just because the law doesn’t require you to use your seat belt doesn’t mean it’s not the smart thing to do.”

He tossed a glance in her direction for the merest part of a second, then focused his attention back on the road. “I think I can take care of myself.”