Book Clubbed

Tricia huddled into Angelica’s too-large cloth coat, which reached her knees, along with a pair of her too-big shoes. Joelle had suffered third-degree burns on her right arm and side, but she would survive. She’d been in shock when she’d given a statement to Chief Baker, corroborating Tricia’s speculation. It was easy enough to find Jerry Dittmeyer—he’d gone straight home to pack a bag and flee, but in his haste he’d run a red light. He was being ticketed by the Milford police when the APB went out on him.

Tricia wondered at the stupidity of some people. There was still so much she didn’t understand about what had happened, but she guessed she would learn in time.

She huddled deeper into the coat and thought back on the rest of the evening.

Angelica was as good as her word and had taken Tricia and Miss Marple in, giving the cat a large selection of goodies to eat, including pâté, shrimp, and small bits of a variety of cheeses. Miss Marple sampled each and looked up at Angelica with what looked like adoring eyes, saying a quiet “Yow” in gratitude.

Still, Tricia and Miss Marple needed to find temporary digs, since Sarge seemed to feel he’d morphed into a greyhound and that Miss Marple resembled a rabbit just perfect for the chase. Both Christopher and Baker had offered their homes to Tricia. She thanked them, but gave each an emphatic no for an answer. Instead, tomorrow she’d call Karen Johnson—and maybe even Bob Kelly—to find an interim place to live. The coming days would be filled with much paperwork and many errands. She’d have to go to Nashua to buy new clothes, too. The entire situation seemed totally overwhelming, and she felt tears fill her eyes once more.

“What are you doing out at this time of night?”

Tricia turned to find Angelica standing right behind her, looking stern. “I needed to see it again, to think about my future.”

“You can rebuild.”

“I know,” Tricia said softly, and sniffed. She really needed a tissue. As though reading her mind, Angelica dug into her jacket and pulled out a pocket pack, peeling out a clean tissue and handing it to Tricia.

“The most important thing is that you’re safe, and so is Miss Marple,” Angelica said kindly.

“Would you have gone back into a burning building to save Sarge?”

“It would be the stupidest thing in the world to risk life and limb for a dog but, yes, I probably would.”

Tears leaked from Tricia’s eyes and Angelica threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “You are made of strong stuff, little sister. You will come out of this a stronger person.”

Tricia let out a shuddering breath. “I sure hope so.”

“Do you want to know what I found out after they took you to the hospital to get checked out?” Angelica asked.

Tricia nodded.

“You and Chief Baker might not be an item anymore, but he still holds you very highly in his regard.”

Tricia sniffed. “Do you think so?”

Angelica nodded. “I know so.”

“So what did you learn and why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“There was no hurry, but if you want to hear it now—out here, standing in the cold—I’ll tell you.”

“Yes, please.”

Angelica turned to stare at the sooty building before them. “Betsy was furious when she’d learned her ex-husband and sister were lovers. Joelle had been thrilled to find out she was pregnant, and the first person she’d shared her news with was her older sister. But instead of joy, Betsy had threatened to cut Joelle out of her will and taunted her with hints of her shameful secret, letting her know that proof of it was hidden in that old family Bible you found.

“Of course, Jerry knew the secret. When their daughter was born with multiple birth defects, the couple had undergone genetic testing. They’d had to face it, and it had nearly destroyed their marriage.”

“But why did they stay together?” Tricia asked, sickened by what she was hearing.

Angelic shrugged. “I guess at first they’d stayed together for the sake of their child, and afterward it was just easier to pretend they didn’t share a parent.”

“How could Jerry do such a despicable thing—knowing what had happened to his own daughter?”

“Denial is a very strong motivator. The guy was no George Clooney. Maybe he wasn’t very lucky in love, either, and when Joelle was on the rebound from Stan she might have gone looking for solace in the arms of someone familiar.”

Tricia shook her head, wishing the odor of burned wood wasn’t so strong.

“Even knowing how his daughter had suffered, that rat Jerry became involved with Joelle and had panicked when she told him she was pregnant. He’d thought she was too old and begged her to get an abortion, but I guess Joelle figured it was probably her only chance to experience motherhood and was determined to go through with her pregnancy.”

“Poor Joelle. What a foolish choice she made to get involved with her ex-brother-in-law.”

“Grant told me that Jerry confessed he’d intercepted Betsy when she’d gone to empty her wastebasket behind the Cookery. She thought she had the upper hand and let him accompany her to the storeroom, where they’d argued. Incensed, he’d chased her around the storeroom and when he caught her, tried to choke the life out of her. He maintained that Betsy had pulled the bookshelf over on herself, and that she wouldn’t have died but for that—something Grant didn’t believe for a second.”

Angelica shrugged. “It seems Betsy had pla

The stupid, stupid man.

“It all seems so pointless,” Tricia said.

Angelica nodded.

Tricia’s gaze returned to the ruins of her once-beautiful store and her throat tightened with despair. All her hard work, all her hopes, all her dreams, had literally gone up in smoke. Insurance would take care of the financial loss, but what about the emotional loss?

Tricia couldn’t tear her gaze from the building’s stone façade that she’d paid so much for and was now a wreck. “I’m so grateful for the invitation, but I can’t stay with you, Ange.”

“I know, but you know you’d be welcome to camp out at my place for as long as you need to.”

“I know.”

Angelica patted Tricia’s back. “Tomorrow we’ll make the rounds. We’ll get you some new clothes, new shoes, and see if we can hunt down an apartment or a sublet. And, most important, we’ll get you to a bookstore that sells mysteries. If I know you, you won’t be happy until you’re surrounded by books once again.”

“And after that, what? How will I spend my days? What will happen to my employees?”

“Fra

“That’s very kind of you. But what about me? What am I supposed to do?”

“You’ll go online, visit thrift shops, and start to rebuild your inventory for the grand reopening of Haven’t Got a Clue. And if you’re willing to pitch in, there’ll be plenty of work at the Chamber to keep you occupied. I’ve got big plans to expand our reach and it’ll take an experienced businesswoman like you to help me set things up. What do you think?”

“It sounds okay,” Tricia said, feeling a tiny bit less stressed.

“This time of uncertainty won’t last forever,” Angelica promised. “Maybe if we sweet-talk Antonio, he’ll get us in touch with the people who helped Nigela Ricita Associates cut through the insurance red tape when they bought the site for the Dog-Eared Page. You might even be back in business in time for the first tourist bus that arrives in May.”

Angelica was being incredibly optimistic, but her comforting words had given Tricia a much needed shot of hope.

“Come on back to my place. I’ve got some homemade cookies stashed away for an emergency—and I’d say this counts as one. I’ll also make you a cup of my super-duper cocoa that’ll have you sleeping like a baby. And when you wake up in the morning things won’t look quite so horrible and you’ll feel a whole lot better. I promise.”